#3K WORDS. MAN.

[pricetagged]

Idk how to label this. Wifehunter John?

The idea of possessive/obsessive John manipulating a situation and stealing a wife for himself struck me, so just coughing the idea up while I sneak away for a coffee before I actually have to start work in 20 mins 💖 entirely unedited, abrupt ending

Masterlist l Part Two

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For someone married to his job, he has put quite a bit of thought into what he is looking for in a wife. Namely, that she's already married.

His reasoning is threefold. He can admit to himself, firstly, that it satisfies his need for control. Competency. He's a busy man with a demanding job. Not quite retired yet, no time to build his own from scratch. With this, he gets a wife boxed up and ready-trained. Broken in.

Secondly, the need for control bleeds into his saviour complex. She'll need a shoulder to cry on, someone strong and capable to get her back on her feet. She'll be feeling a little fragile. Needy. Perfect.

And thirdly, it does something wild to his jealous, possessive streak. The idea of taking something precious, of breaking her bond to another man and tying it to him? Delicious. The idea that she used to be someone else's, that he has to imprint himself onto her knowing that in doing so he is erasing the imprint of another man? It has his teeth aching, grinding even as heat rises in his belly. Stirs at him.

The idea swirls lazily in the back of his mind, never quite finding the right time or right partner. He bats at it a few times, lazy cat playing with the notion, seeing how far it can stretch before it snaps. Eyes up pretty things everywhere he goes, glancing down at their left hands just to check, but nothing quite tugs on that string. Until one day it does when he's outfitting the security system at your house.

It's side work. Cash in hand, word of mouth. Something to keep him busy when on mandated leave. Something to keep in mind as his retirement from active duty creeps closer. And your husband is a real piece of work, all blustering braggadocio energy. Young buck, not knowing his place in the herd. Not knowing that he'd be better scratching his antlers off on a tree than going head-to-head with a gristled thing like John.

It's like John's energy, his presence in the house, sends alarm bells ringing in your husband's mind (Be the man. Don't back down. Puff up your chest and strut). And it plays so perfectly into John's hands because your young buck doesn't realise that what he's really doing is fawning. To John. (Look at me, be impressed by me!) He makes his biggest mistake in putting you down in front of him, trying to sidle up to John and create some kind of desperate camaraderie. Ordering you to bring tea to the men at work. Rolling his eyes at your attempts to talk, to ask questions about the work being done. Waving you off so he can stand and watch the proceedings. Like he could supervise. Like he has any clue what he's doing.

Only the promise of the long game keeps John from levelling him with a hard look, from calling him outblike he'd love to.

He hears you both in the in the other room, having swatted the young buck off like a particularly virulent pest. Noisy and bothersome. Not needed - or wanted- in this home. And entirely too stupid to realise that John wasn't being jocular in his dismissal.

You've been scribbling away for the past few days, something occupying your time, keeping you happy and hidden away in the kitchen.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"Well, yes," he hears the slight quaver in your voice before you find your footing. You've got at least a bit of spine. Good. "You said that I should find an occupation. Not just 'laze around the house playing housewife'. This is what I-"

"Oh come on, I didn't mean- You don't think that this is viable, do you?"

"Well... I love gardening. And I'm good at it. And there's no reason that it can't be more accessible for people, especially with the current economic-"

He cuts you off with a scoff. "Dear, just- I don't want you to be disappointed. I think you don't quite understand the time and effort this will take. And you know nothing of marketing, publishing. Why don't you put that away and start on dinner?"

And oh, isn't that delicious. He can taste it now, that idea that has been swirling. It's thick, almost tangible on his tongue. The tension in the house, the bitter lacryma of stifled tears. The slight acidity of words you left unsaid. It has his mouth watering, pupils dilating.

And when he's packing up that evening, tools and materials tucked in to the heavy workman's case, he swings by the kitchen on his way out. Catches the way something is jutting out slightly from the bin, lid slightly askew. When he pulls it out he realises it's some kind of notebook, carefully (lovingly) bound. Pictures pasted, mindmaps and notes and plans scribbled in the margins. Your gardening tips. Kitchen scraps, window boxes, rooftop plots. Urban gardening. It's deeply thoughtful, well researched.

A labour of love, lying in the rubbish.

Sweet, clever little thing. That just won't do.

He leaves your house with a little piece of you tucked away in his toolkit and a nice plan forming. He'll be back, of course, not quite finished with his work. He'd planted a few little links into the system he'd almost installed, projecting not just to the monitor in your home but also in his. Got to keep his eyes on you, keep you safe and cared for in ways that your useless husband can't.

Finding that book was a boon. He'd say it was divinely ordained if he believed in all that. It weighs heavy in his toolbox as he whistles out the door.

Now, how to get you alone and return it to you..

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This idea may have been done before? I'm not sure, sorry! I've seen a lot of possessive John floating around. Tagging @stellewriites because I said I would last time, and you've been so encouraging of my nonsense.

Anyway I've got like 4 long-form WIPs that I'm working on, so I may never actually write this one but thought I'd share since that image set I just reblogged made me feral 💖

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

You Truly Are A Merchant of Death.

Warning ⚠️; mention of human sacrifice, mention of the future end of the world, blood, grief. 🔞

Pairing; Tony Stark/ Cult!Leader!Male!Reader

Summary; You were an enigma, a mystery that Tony never really understood. That was made your charm. That was what made him fall and allow you to pull him in the dark.

Note; How the hell did I write that Mastodon??? I think that is the longest story I have written until now. I think I am like around 3k words if not more but that is because I love Tony ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~

The coldness was infiltrating the armour and Tony could feel his fingers and toes going numb. His body shivered, trying to keep him warm to no avail. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move. He was stuck in his amour waiting to die.

No one had come for him and Tony doubted anyone would.

That was until he heard his armour cracking as someone tore it open. Tony blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden light when his mask was taken off before his eyes fell on you. Leaning above him, he could see the sparkle of joy in your eyes behind your own mask. Your gloved hand rested on his cheek for a second before you spoke to him.

- “Who did that to you, Tony?”

Your voice was soft, gentle like always but there was an edge to it like you are trying to hide your anger. He tried to talk, to tell you everything, but Tony only managed to cough, his throat way too dry. You hushed him like a scared child, fingers brushing off the blood on his lips.

- “Okay, don’t talk right now. I’ll get you out of that thing in no time, and will speak when you are better.”

Tony wanted to ask you how you were going to free him but never had the chance to open his mouth. With your bare hands, you ripped apart his amour, being so careful around his ark reactor. Once he was free, Tony sat, panting while you petted his back telling him to breathe deeply.

His eyes stared at what was left of his armour and noticed it had corroded as if you had used acid. No, not acid, Tony corrected himself mentally, but magic. How could he forget that you could use fucking magic, something he didn't understand, to do even more weird shit.

Tony had so many questions, among which why were you here? You were his enemy, a villain that he had tried so many times to stop and failed to. You had no reason to help him. But here you were, taking off your ceremonial robe to put it on him. Tony couldn't hold back the sigh of relief when he felt the warmth from your robe enveloping him.

You helped Tony to stand up and he leaned against you, feeling frail. Which wasn't a surprise when he had passed the night in the cold and was probably suffering from hypothermia. Yet, Tony felt his body turn to ice when his eyes landed on the dozen of silhouettes standing around the two of you. They were wrapped in the same kind of ceremonial robes masks, but of a different colour than yours.

Your followers.

The members of your murderous cult.

Tony tensed as he felt your arm wrapping around his waist as you kept him close to you. Your body radiated heat, more than any human should be able to. You looked at him and Tony felt all his fear and worry disappear. He was safe. Which was a weird thought since you had murdered more than a hundred people. Sacrifices for those things you called your Gods.

- “Come on. Let us bring you home, Tony. You went through enough for now, you need to rest so you can tell me all that happened.”

Your velvet voice was hypnotic and Tony found himself nodding before he followed you. Your followers began humming something he couldn't understand as all around you things began to transform. The walls melted and the ground cracked. Slowly, everything transformed and before he knew it, you two stood in his lab.

You helped him sit down before going to grab him a bottle of water. Without thinking about it, he took it from your hands and drank it almost all while you sat by his side. It was the first time you two weren't fighting and Tony didn't know what to think about it. He was supposed to stop you and make sure you couldn't kill more people, but instead here he was, being cared for by you.

Tony groaned when he saw you summon the first aid kit. You patched him up, without a word but your eyes spoke for you. He could see sadness and anger flashing in your eyes. After what felt like an eternity, you were the first to spoke.

- “Tony. What happened?” You asked with a honeyed voice. “Who did that to you?”

- “Roger.” He croaked, his eyes staring at the floor as he felt tears building in his eyes. “It was Roger and Barnes.”

And just like that, he told you everything. From the botched mission in Sokovia to the murder of the Wankada’s king to the Accord, without forgetting the tensions in the team. Tony closed his fists as he recalled Steve’s betrayal and the battle that cost Rhodney his legs. He chocked telling you about the video of the Winter Soldier murdering his parents and then his battle against Steve and Bucky.

He told you how Steve hit him in the chest with the shield and then abandoned him.

You sat next to him, hand gently caressing his back as you listened to his story. You squeezed his shoulder when he finished his story.

- “I am sorry, Tony. Very sorry about your parents, they didn't deserve such an end. You were right to be angry at Steve for hiding it from you.”

Tony could only nod, chasing the tears from his eyes with the sleeves of your robe. It smelled like you with a touch of blood and sea. A bit fishy too.

- “Anyway, how did you find me? Why do you care?” He asked, blunter than he intended, but you only chuckled.

- “The hows aren't a mystery, I simply used magic to localize you. And how couldn't I care? We are friends after all.”

This time it was Tony who laughed. Friends? Friends? He had tried so many times to catch you and even fought you, severing your limbs and hurting you, yet you called him your friend?

He looked at you only to see honesty in your eyes. Gods, you were serious.

He snorted and looked away, wondering how in hell did you managed to see him as a friend after everything. You were sicker than he thought.

- “So what now? You expect me to stop trying to conter your plan of world destruction and just stand watching while you butcher and sacrifice people?” Tony asked, sarcastic, making you chuckle.

- “No matter how hard you try, you cannot stop me Tony. You could throw me in a bottomless pit and the end will still come. The fate of our world was written a long time ago and there is nothing we can do to stop it from happening. If it isn't me who will free Them, then it will be someone else.” Your voice was sweet as you finished cleaning his cheek. “But fear not. You’ll be long dead when it happens. The stars won't align for a few more centuries.”

Tony sighed as he felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Your words sounded like a dead sentence, like there really wasn't anything to be done and that opposing you was useless. So many death. None that could be avenged.

- “I don't expect you to stop, Tony. I know you won't, but I wish you would pour your energy into something more rewarding.” You added when he didn't answer you. “You have the greatest brain I ever met and you put much of yourself into everything you create. You could do so much more if you didn't focus on me.”

Again, you were right. You knew him more than he thought.

Sighing, Tony shook his head, feeling anger rise in his heart.

- “Yeah, and what did it get me? Ultron was a terrible mistake that took too many lives and even destroyed a whole city. The Sokovia Accord? It tore the team apart and got me a fucking shield in the chest!” Tony snapped and threw the empty bottle of water against the wall. He felt tears fill his eyes. “Whatever I do, whatever I make it only leads to destruction.”

- “You truly are a merchant of Death, Tony.”

Your words were like a slap in the face and Tony fought back a sob. No matter what he did, he would always be stuck with that title right? Burying his face in his hands, he ignored yours squeezing his shoulder.

- “Don't be sad, my friend. Some of us are cursed with a terrible fate, it is not your fault.”

- “Shut up. Just fucking shut up! You are not helping.” Tony hissed, fingers digging in his scalp.

And you did. You fell quiet but stayed close and Tony knew it because he felt your eyes on him. He tried to fight it, but failed as tears rolled down his cheeks. He was an idiot. A moron who destroyed everything he touched and always disappointed his friends. He couldn't forget what Barton had told him, couldn't forget Roger choosing his parents’ murderer over him. After everything, he had been thrown away like a dirty tissue.

He sobbed as he felt your arms wrapping around him. His first reflex was to try and push you away but instead melted in your embrace. The warmth of your body sank into his, chasing away the coldness from the hypothermia and your smell was familiar, like stepping on his balcony facing the sea. Except you also smelled like fresh blood.

Tony tensed slightly when he felt one of your hands on his as you slowly forced him to let go of his hair. Then, you passed your finger through them, massaging his sore scalp.

- “Don't hurt yourself, Tony. You don't deserve this, you didn't do anything wrong.” You whispered, making Tony scoff.

- “Everything I do is wrong. I’m a walking disaster.” He hissed, looking away as you held him closer against your chest.

- “That is false and we both know it.”

Tony didn't reply. Instead, he rolled his eyes before closing them, resting his cheek against your chest. He sighed when he felt your chin on top of his head, but decided to allow it. It has been so long since he was held like that and since he felt like someone actually cared for him. Which was weird coming from a psychopathic murderer like you.

But Tony couldn't deny that you never hurt him. No matter how much he wounded you, severing your limbs and tearing you apart with his beams, you never used your magic against him. You would talk, tease him about your immortality and then disappear with your goons and sacrifices. Sometimes you would take the beating while talking about your beliefs and Gods, not caring that Tony had his hand right through your stomach.

You truly were an enigma, a mystery that Tony didn't truly understand and a part of him didn't want to.

After what felt like an eternity, you gently nudged him, forcing him up. Tony didn't have the strength to fight you, so he simply followed as you led him up. He sighed as you pushed him into the bathroom and he understood immediately; that he had to shower.

After you got him clean clothes and left the bathroom, Tony took his shower. He stayed longer than necessary under the warm jet, trying to forget everything that had happened but couldn't. The damn video kept replaying in his mind with such accuracy that he threw up a few times, bile burning his throat. Yet you never intruded on his privacy.

When he left the bathroom, he found you had pulled a chair to face the door. You sat with your legs crossed reading one of Tony’s books about engineering. Behind your mask, he could see your curious eyes moving with each word you read and the joy in them. You were enjoying the book and didn't knew how to feel seeing you so… human.

After a few seconds, you raised your head and Tony threw your ceremonial dress at you. It landed on your head and you laughed, thanking him before putting it back on. He ignored you and went to his bedroom, guessing where you wanted him to go next. His wounds burned as he had taken off the bandages, yet didn't want to go through making them again.

He was surprised when you didn't follow him as Tony had expected you would make sure he was resting. Getting under the cover, he sighed realizing you really weren't going to intrude in his private place. He didn't notice when he fell asleep, but Tony hadn't had such a restful sleep in a long time.

He woke up hearing a soft knock on his door. Blinking, Tony sat on his bed and frowned as silence filled the room. There was no light as night had fallen. Through his window, he could see the moon. Large and round, it was almost hypnotic. He shivered has the knock repeated and coughed as he tried to speak. After a few seconds, he managed to call you in.

You entered, your ceremonial robe dancing around your feet as you walked in the moonlight. Like a cat, your eyes reflected it and for a second Tony thought he was facing a predator.

You sat on his bed and rested your hand on his forehead. Tony slapped your hand away, only making you chuckle softly as you were amused by his childish behaviour.

- “I am happy that you rested, Tony. You look already better, even tho those bruises seem painful.” You said, voice gentle and low, as if you thought speaking louder would give him a headache.

You would be right. His whole body was sore as if he had been hit by a train. Groaning, Tony passes a hand on his face, wondering what you wanted, and why you woke him up. As if you could read his thoughts, you laughed before offering him your hand.

- “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

In the dark of the room, Tony stared at your hand, weighing the good and bad of following you. For all he knew you could lead him to his dead. Maybe you had decided he would be the perfect sacrifice tonight. Maybe you planned on devouring his corpse after stabbing him in your unholy altar of debauchery.

Yet, Tony thought, nothing you would do could be more painful than what he had experimented on lately. With a sigh, he took your hand in his. He almost shivered when you squeezed his hand as you got up, waiting for him to do the same.

Tony wondered if he had lost his mind. He followed you as you led him across his house and then outside. Barefoot, Tony shivered as he felt the cold damp sand against the soles of his feet. The sound of the waves crashing had something calming and eerie at the same time.

You stopped close to the water, close enough for the tide to tickle his toes. Your thumb gently strokes his hand, making small circles before you let him go, entering the sea silently. Tony can do nothing but stare at you. Under the moonlight, your ceremonial robes seemed to glow slightly. The broderies at least. They formed strange designs, some alien to him and others weirdly familiar as if they were memories from a dream he had since long forgotten.

He watched as you pulled out a round piece of golden metal from your sleeve. You murmured something, like chanting, but so low Tony couldn't understand anything, then dropped the piece of metal. The sea swallowed it up and a soft light began to glow from the water. A pulse of energy disturbed the waves and water while a soft buzzing sound rose like a bee flying around his head.

- “Fear not, Tony. I won't let anything happen to you, you are safe by my side.” You said and Tony almost wanted to believe you, even tho he didn't know what you were protecting him from.

In the distance, Tony saw a small boat rocking with the waves. There were flickering lights coming from it and Tony recognized them as coming from lanterns or torches. He opened his mouth, ready to ask some questions, but before he could chants broke the silence. They were loud and made the air vibrate. Turning his attention to you, he watched as you moved your hand. A maelstrom began to form, becoming bigger and bigger until a tunnel formed.

- “I am not bringing you in for the choir, Tony, but for something way more exciting.” You said, offering your hand once more in an invitation to follow you.

For a second, Tony hesitated and almost stepped back, but his feet moved against his will and he grabbed your hand. The sea was cold and he felt the water soak the bottom of his pants. Normally it would bother him, but right now he didn't care. His eyes stared in awe as the tunnel closed between them while the current made them move like a treadmill. They move without walking.

Around them, Tony can see the fish swimming. For a quarter of a second, he even spots a great white shark killing its prey. He is so fascinated by everything that Tony doesn't even realize that time and space fold around them. Before he can understand what is going on, the tunnel comes to an end as everything turn black.

The water took a gloomy greenish tint and seemed to even glow slightly as if a few glowsticks had been thrown in it. Stepping out, Tony realized you had taken him into some kind of cave. But it is not really a cave as he looks up and sees the night sky. No, not a cave at all, more a crater. The moon is hung above them, enormous, so big Tony thought it was about to crash on Earth. The strangest thing was that some stars seemed to be black and yet shined brighter than Northern Star.

- “Where are we?” Tony asked, his voice wavering as he walked around, not looking where he was going occupied he was staring at the weird stars. “I’ve never seen stars like those. How are they black and shining? That doesn't make any sense.”

- “There are things in this world that don't make sense, Tony, and which would make you go mad if you tried to understand them. As for where we are, we are still on Earth. I just took you home.” You replied to him, walking by his side and looking up too. “What you are seeing are the stars of Carcosa.”

- “Carcosa…”

The name rolled on Tony’s tongue, but he couldn't pronounce it right. He heard you clearly yet his tongue refused to cooperate. He frowned as it almost felt familiar. Yes, Tony had heard that name before, he was sure.

- “Along the shore the cloud waves break, the twin suns sink behind the lake, the shadows lengthen in Carcosa. Strange is the night where black stars rise, and strange moons circle through the skies but stranger still is lost Carcosa. Songs that the Hyades shall sing, where flap the tatters of the King, must die unheard in Dim Carcosa. Song of my soul, my voice is dead; die thou, unsung, as tears unshed shall dry and die in Lost Carcosa.” You sang before turning your attention to him and Tony plunged his eyes into yours. “Cassilda’s song describes it pretty well in a beautiful poem. You might have heard it from The King in Yellow, a play from around 1895.”

- “Maybe… I don't know, but the name is familiar.”

Without another word, Tony began exploring the place. There are desks and bookshelves filled with books and scrolls and even school boards covered in a language Tony doesn't understand. It's primitive and yet complex.

Something else caught his attention.

An altar of black-greenish stone covered in offerings of incense and meat surrounding an idol. The thing was made of a green stone and looked terrifying. It had the appearance of a mix between an octopus, a dragon and a parody of a human. Sitting on a throne of the same colour, the creature seemed to be looking directly at him with its many eyes.

- “Cthulhu, Priest of the Great Old Ones, he who sleeps in R’lyeh dreaming, waiting to be free once more.” You said as you walked up to the altar, fingers brushing the idol almost lovingly.

Tony approached as well, his gaze drifting to the mural behind the altar. The gravure represented aquatic creatures as massive as the whales they hunted. They looked oh-so human and yet so far from one. The gravure had the same style as the idol and seemed almost as old.

- “Those… those are the things you are worshipping, aren't they?” Tony asked, feeling sick. How could such abominations exist? How could they be real?

- “Indeed. This mural represents the Deep Ones, inhabitants of the bottom of the seas and oceans and servants of Dagon.” You explained pointing at the creatures. “Sometimes they pass a deal with mortals. In exchange for gold, they get to reproduce with humans. When they reach maturity those offspring then join them underwater where they live and serve Dagon.”

Tony didn't know if he was supposed to be horrified or impressed that people were ready to fuck those things for gold. How far were people ready to go for money and riches? Even he would never stoop so low, not even to save the world.

As if you had read his mind you laughed and shook your head before signalling him to follow you. Again, Tony did. Why? He didn't know, but something, like a little voice in his head, was telling him to just do it. You showed him around, presenting more idols and gravures, even books and scriptures.

Tony’s curiosity and scientific mind won over his disgust and mistrust as he listened to you speak about your cult and its history. You had the books and scrolls to show as proof and Tony felt overwhelmed when you mentioned that your Great Old Ones were extraterrests. Memories of New York flooded his mind and Tony felt dread fill his head. He barely calmed when you rested your hand on his shoulder. Tony grabbed your wrist, holding so tight he knew he was going to leave marks on your skin.

- “Everything is fine Tony. They aren't the same kind and you have nothing to fear from my Gods. They cannot hurt you and I promised you to keep you safe, didn't I?”

But Tony couldn't answer. His lungs refused to work, preventing him from breathing and his heart was racing so fast in his chest that Tony thought he could feel every single piece of shrapnel around it. Gasping for air, Tony fell to his knees, tears threatening to escape his eyes. When you wrapped your arms around his trembling body, Tony grabbed you for dear life. A gasp and whine escaped him when he finally could breathe again.

- “That's it Tony, deep breathe. Do not stop breathing my dearest, you got it. I am right here, you are not alone and you are safe.” You whispered in his ear, gently rocking him and trying to help calm his panicked state.

Your hands on his body burned his skin through his clothes, but Tony didn't care. It had been so long since someone had held him like that and it felt just right. Your body fitted his just perfectly like the missing piece of a puzzle. Closing his eyes, Tony focused on you and your voice.

After what felt like an eternity, Tony finally calmed down. He felt so tired, his body empty of any form of strength or energy. He could fall asleep in your arms if he was given the chance, which was strange because he didn't fully trust you with his life. Even tho you were the only one who never hurt him.

- “If you feel the need to rest, do so Tony. I will carry you back home and lay you to bed.” Your breath tickled his ear and Tony shook his head, not wanting to embrace Morpheus. “Hush now, I won't abandon you my dearest. I will be only a whisper away from you and who knows? Maybe you shall have good dreams tonight.”

Tony rolled his eyes when you called him your dearest. What a flirt you could be some time.

After that, you took him home with the same trick you used earlier, but this time you held him against your chest. Your hand rested on Tony’s hip and he swore it was burning his skin through the pants of his pyjama. The walk back to his place was quiet, but the good kind. Tony didn't feel uncomfortable or anxious, but fine and relaxed.

As he went to bed, he watched you put some books on his desk for him to read later. It was strange how in your place you seemed as if you belonged in his room. Tony quickly chased the thought away as you turned toward him.

- “If there is anything I can do for you, just ask me, Tony. I will happily help you in any way I can.”

Tony looked down, away, almost ashamed of what he wanted to ask. The video of his parents’ murder and his fight against Roger kept replaying in his mind. He couldn't forgive Steve for lying and keeping such information a secret or for choosing a murderer over him. Especially after everything they went through and what Tony did for him.

- “I want Roger… I… I want you to find him and Barnes and bring them back to me.” Tony said, closing his eyes and turning his head away.

Silence fell between the two of you as you took in his request. For a moment, Tony feared you would refuse to help, but then he heard your footsteps then felt your hand on his shoulder.

- “If this is what you truly want, then I will. Rest my friend, I will contact you once I get my hand on them.”

Tony opened his eyes the second you moved your hand away, but you were already gone. He was alone in his room.

The night passed, then days which soon turned into weeks. Tony had no news from you and he didn't dare call or even whisper your name. He regretted asking for Roger and Barnes, not knowing what you were going to do to the two men. You weren't the kind type after all. Well, except with him.

Tony also took the time to read the books you gave him. They were theologic and historical about your cult and its beliefs. Tony was surprised at just how old it was, not expecting it to be as old as the Mesopotamian era. But here it was.

He also had to deal with Ross. Tony didn't want to expose you, to tell the world about your existence and that you stood by his side. It was selfish of him and for once Tony didn't care or feel bad. He didn't even care that Pepper wasn't around anymore, too focused he was on thinking about you.

But Ross bothered him day and night, so Tony finally admitted being in contact with you. Explaining to Ross what you were and your capacities wasn't an easy task and convincing the man that you were on his side was even harder. Yer he managed it. Someone like you was a dream come true for Ross surely.

Then he had the most surprising visitor, someone he never thought he would see again; Doctor Stephen Strange. Unlike before, Strange has changed his tuxedo for weird clothes that reminded Tony of yours. The second Tony laid eyes on Strange, he had a bad feeling.

- “Stark, we need to talk.” Strange had said with such a serious voice that Tony thought he had committed a war crime… again.

- “What do you want, Strange? Money? You clearly must be desperate to come to me wearing that. I pity the poor clown you stole it from!” Tony had replied, unable to content his sarcasm.

He didn't expect anyone to come find him as he admired the sea. Ever since that night, Tony couldn't see the sea or ocean the same. How could it when now he knew what swam deep under the surface?

- “Your friend, that's why I need to talk with you before you do something stupid again. Do you even know what he is? What he plans to do?” Strange asked, voice harsh almost angry as he stepped in front of Tony.

They've just started talking, but Tony already wants to punch the man in the face. Who does Strange think he is to come to his place and talk to him like that? He did nothing wrong. It's not his fault he can't stop you.

- “Yes I know who he is, I know what he can do and what he plans to do. What do you want me to do about it? I literally can not kill him or even cut his limbs, I know I've tried in the past.” Tony snapped, walking away and turning his back to Strange, who kept following him.

- “If you know all that already, then how can you stand there and let it happen? How can you be friends with such a monster?” Strange asked, raising his voice as his anger exploded on Tony.

That was enough for Tony to snap. Before he thought about it, Tony turned on his heels and the next second his fist collided with Strange’s jaw, knocking the former surgeon to the ground. They both groaned in pain and Tony held his hand, massaging his bruised knuckles.

- “Son of a bitch! You know nothing, nothing, about the fucking shit I've been through and why I do what I do! And who the fuck care? It's not like people expect me to do anything else than fuck up and blow shit up! Right?” Tony snapped, kicking a rock with his shoe and sending it flying away. “I just make mistakes and get people killed all the time! That's why they call me the damn Marchant of Death, right? So yeah, I ain't doing shit because it will among to nothing!”

Panting, heart racing in his chest, Tony stared at Strange as the man sat, spitting blood on the floor. God, Tony thought, he really hit the man harder than he wanted. Not that he had wanted to punch him! Yet, Tony didn't regret it.

- “Now, leave me the fuck alone and go back where you come from. I owe you nothing, Strange.” Tony spat before quickly going back to his home.

What wasn't his surprise when he found a letter resting on a tuxedo in his bedroom. It was written by you, an invitation to join you for a surprise. After so long, Tony knew what it was; you had gotten your hand on Steve and Barnes as you had promised. For a second, Tony stared at the letter and the clothes, wondering if he should join you. Why not? He had nothing left to lose and Steve wasn't his friend anymore, the veteran had made it clear.

After changing his clothes, Tony put on his armour and went to the dress you gave him.

The address him at a church facing the ocean. Made out of stone, it seemed to be centuries old and yet still stood proudly. As he landed and approached the doors, the bells began to ring above him as if announcing his arrival. With a deep breath, Tony opened the double doors.

The first thing he saw was you, maskless and standing proudly behind the altar. You opened your arms in an invitation for him to approach, which he did. Every banc inside the church was filled with your followers. All of them had taken off their masks and hoods, some looked at you while others had their head bowed and prayed in a language Tony didn't understand.

Then he saw them.

Steve, Barnes, Natasha and Clint were kneeling, tied with what looked like slimy tentacles and looked beaten up and starving. Roger had lost the spark in his eyes while Barnes had his eyes turned so far away, that Tony wondered if he was still sane.

- “Our most important guest had finally arrived! Welcome, Tony. As promised, I have found your former friends and your parents’ murderer for you.” You said, voice echoing in the church.

His former teammates raised their heads, staring at him in confusion and surprise. Especially Steve who looked both hurt and betrayed. Bastard. After everything, he dares act as if it was Tony who had stabbed him in the back?

Swallowing his anger, he ignored the rest of his former team and turned his attention to you. You circled around the altar and walked up to him, arms still open as if you were going to hug him. Which, thankfully, you didn't. No. You just rested your hands on his shoulders and squeezed them gently.

- “I am happy you joined us, Tony. It wouldn't have been the same without you my friend.”

- “I asked for Barnes and Roger, not Clint and Natasha. What do you want to do with them?” Tony asked without looking at them.

- “Tony, you know him?” Steve’s voice was weak and harsh as if you had him swallow a galleon of sand. “Why…”

- “I haven't decided yet, but after all the pain they caused you? I will find the perfect punishment.” You said as you both ignored Steve.

Your words filled Tony with warmth as he sighed softly. It was still so strange to him that you cared so much about him after everything. You were doing more for him than anyone else ever did, being ready to hurt his former friends just because they hurt him. They were the true heroes, he was just a mistake and yet you choose to stand by his side.

Tony looked at Steve, feeling only anger and betrayal. Gone were his softness toward Captain America, replaced by hate and disgust.

- “My father was your friend, he believed in you and knew you were alive. He tried so hard to find you and how do you thank him? By siding with his murderer. You are disgusting.” Tony spat, voice filled with more venom than he wanted.

- “Tony, you don't understand…” Steve tried to talk, but Tony shook his head, stopping him.

- “I don't care. I don't give a fuck if he was brainwashed, used against his will. He still did it. Why does he is forgiven when none of you ever forgave me even when the same happened to me?”

There were no answers. Of course. What did he expect? They never cared, only saw him as a mistake and a liability, wasn't worth their forgiveness.

He was about to jump on Steve when you squeezed his shoulders again, catching his attention. Your benevolent eyes were filled with compassion as you stared at him and Tony felt like he was about to cry. Why did he find a friend in a fanatic murderer?

He looked away as you touched his cheek before you turned your attention on his former teammates.

- “Shame on all of you for the hell you put your friend through. You who used him like a puppet, like something not alive, see what you did to a man who only tried to do good. Did he make mistakes? Yes. Yet where you can find the strength to forgive a brainwashed assassin, you cannot do the same for a friend.”

- “Tony, what are you doing? Why…” Natasha tried to speak, but the tentacle wrapped around her moved to her mouth, gagging her.

- “Tony, you gotta stop this madness!” Clint snapped as he tried to untie himself only for the tentacle to constrict tighter and tighter around him.

Tony could only remember Clint’s last words, how he was a backstabber. He didn't feel anything toward Clint. Nothing. In fact, as he looked at all of them, he realized he had stopped caring. They meant nothing to him anymore. He was just tired.

- “Why? After all, that all I can do right? Stabbing people in the back once they trust me.” Tony said coldly tilting his head as you cupped it in your hands.

They all looked at him, their face twisted with shock and surprise. All, except Barnes. The man was crying silently, eyes staring absently at the ground.

- “I am… sorry.” Barnes said, voice croaking as he had difficulties talking. “I am so sorry. I never meant to do any of this, but please, take your anger on me, not them. They have nothing to do with us, not even Steve. He is just trying to protect me like I use to do with him.”

Tony didn't know what to say and just looked while Steve argued with Barnes, refusing to abandon him. It filled Tony with pure rage. Why wasn't he worth such love and loyalty too? Why was he always abandoned?

- “Really, what do you have planned for them? Are you going to sacrifice them to your Gods?” Tony asked, ignoring Barnes.

- “My, yes! They would make a great sacrife I think.” You said, letting go of his face.

Tony sighed and shook his head, for once not agreeing. He could accept any other kind of punishment, but death? No. For Barnes, death would be mercy.

- “No. Don't kill them, it wouldn't be a punishment. They are veterans and assassins, they are expecting it.” Tony whispered his eyes on them.

- “What would you have me do then?” You asked softly, taking his hand in yours and kissing his fingers. “Whatever you want, I will do my dearest.”

- “Make them read that cursed book of yours. You have it, don't you? The Necronomicon.”

You fell silent, gently squeezing his hand in yours as his fingers were still against your lips. He felt you sighing before you nodded your head.

- “As you wish, but you must know, Tony, that their mind won't survive it. They will go mad and won't ever go back to normal. That book isn't a toy and even I read it with causion.”

- “I know. That is what I want, that is what they deserve. Except Barnes. Let him watch, let him live with his guilt since his mind had already been destroyed.”

Tony turned his head to look at you. He felt tired, and empty and even revenge wasn't making him feel better, but looking at you did. There was so much understanding in your eyes as if you knew his pain. You had accepted him even with all his flaws and errors, calling him your friend and dearest when he had hurt you horribly. You had forgiven him without him giving any kind of excuses.

You were all he had ever wanted, except for the cult and sacrifice thing, but Tony could look the other way. After all, he too had blood on his hands and he knew that with you, whatever the future held, he was going to be fine. You would keep him safe and sound no matter what.

He didn't care about his former friends pleading. No. The only thing that mattered was the taste of your lips on his as he abandoned everything, choosing you as his future.

[jubmato]

i love that stupid little turtleneck he wore for all of 2 seconds on screen 💛💛💛

[hungrydogs-if]

almost did a huge oopsie by revealing 13's real name in this holiday special. not that it'd matter, it wouldn't come up in the game. probably. maybe.

... i wanna.

[unicornpopcorn14]

My inability to remember including Chuuya's hat in every fic I write is becoming a problem nkfsjbf

[00fairylights00]

bitches become obsessed with a new fictional man, claim they will write fanfiction about him but never post it and then promptly lie.

It's me, I'm bitches.

[tojiscrack]

OMG OMGOKGOKGOGMGKGKGKGMGMGMMGMG MY BRAIN IS SO POWERFUL forst of how are you my munchkin i hope ur doing amazing and that all is well for you LOVE YOU LOTS

So yk that one song thats popular ish (maybe you've heard it maybe you haven't) its the CHERRY BLOSSOM ICE TEA CHERRY BLOSSOM ICE TEA song. ANYWAYS is that not y/n and megumi with their lil barista jobs?!?? CMONN SEE MY VISION ...Ill link it..



HELP I’VE SEEN THIS SONG ON TIKTOK 😭

i’m asking you liars to give me a BREAK, i’m smiling so hard and still haven’t recovered from the malakai-y/n-megumi-triangle-gay debate yet 😭 like CHILL, one at a time pls 😭 (nah i’m jk this is fun send in moreeeeee 😡)

it’s crack, which is so them. it’s a grumpy dude and a sunshine girl, also them. everything is them, i see the vision, except for the fact that megumi would somehow materialise in front of me and throw me up my chimney if i confirmed this as liar, liar canon 💀

[antigonenikk]

instead of smoking out of a pipe modern au eugene has modded his vape pen over the course of his senior year to such an insane degree that no one else at school can figure out how it hasnt given him lead poisoning yet. he exclusively vapes mint-chocolate chip flavor and judges you immediately if you use an ELFBAR. meanwhile modern au snafu exclusively smokes menthol parliaments and laces all of his joints with PCP.

[szollibisz]

been thinking about this a loooot recently (even if my "writing style" annoys the shit out of me now) but yeahw.. my little guy my favourite doomed gay.....

[aocello]

its so fucking annoying when writing the very end of a fic is giving you grief........this is why most of what i write is little scenes/short form stuff man TT i'm no good at longer narratives

[sunboki]

me re-reading the kissing scene in record player lover for the fifth time bc i’m obsessed i-

[deerabigailhobbs]

It's 2am and I'm working on the second chapter for my Adamgail siblings fic because I can't sleep :')

[averycutesalamander]

i don't think i've ever made myself cry with my own writing but this soulmate au drabble might just do it

[obwjam]

Same anon that asked for fandoms here! (first time asking for anything here goes)

Prompt 15. “Shh, don’t wake them, god knows they need their sleep."

With Jamie and Roy from Ted Lasso? (Just incase I had to specify LOL) nws if you don't wanna do it tho! <3

"Shh, don’t wake them, god knows they need their sleep."

excellent first ask. like, truly impeccable choice. this one was PERFECT

from this post

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

"Shh, don’t wake them, god knows they need their sleep."

Roy looked incredulously at Jamie, who was sitting comfortably in Roy’s office with you in his hand. “Did you seriously just fucking say that to me?”

“‘Ey! Did you not ‘ear me? I said quiet.”

Roy grunted, but ultimately didn’t say anything, because that little prick was right. You did need your sleep.

See, your life was turned upside down a few months ago when you were discovered in the vast AFC Richmond complex. Even though the place was crawling with giants, it was so unbelievably huge that it was actually the perfect place for you to be. Everyone was so busy with their daily tasks that nobody had the time to scan the floors for tiny people.

And it would have stayed that way, too, until the club brought in an eccentric new player that noticed right away that something was off. Before you could even blink, you had been lifted into the air and put on display for a room full of bulky, imposing athletes. 

Jamie, who hated Zava with every fiber of his being and relished any opportunity to make him look like an ass, immediately came to your defense, silently vowing to protect you from him. Roy saw right through the whole thing and inserted himself into the relationship, because he sure as hell didn’t trust Jamie to take care of a four-inch-tall being.

So, you were stuck with them.

“I know why you’re doing this,” Roy grumbled. Jamie looked at him expectantly.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that, then?”

“Because you want them to like you more than Zava.”

Jamie made a face and fake laughed. “You’re joking, mate. As if they need my help hating Zava. Don’t you see how terrified they are of him? He fuckin’, plucked them up off the ground,” he bent down and pretended to pick something up, mockingly going through the motions, “and dangled them around like some sort of – some kind of – I don’t know exactly what, but it wasn’t good.”

“Hm.” Roy was mad that Jamie had a point. He too was pretty pissed when he saw Zava waving you around around that day. “So what’s the fucking catch, then?”

“What catch?”

“Why are you doing this,” Roy asked, more forcefully this time. “‘Cause I know it’s not out of the goodness of your little twat heart.”

“What, I can’t just do somethin’ nice for someone I barely know without there bein’ some kind of reason?”

Roy looked at him like he had five heads. “Yeah!”

You awoke to the sound of an argument – not uncommon from spending all your time with them. You sat up in a daze, waiting for Jamie to notice that he had indeed cut your nap short, but he was too in the zone. Fighting with Roy did that to him.

You rubbed your eyes and took your time regaining consciousness after a very restful sleep. Somehow, your existence was still a secret to the owner of the club, so during matches, you watched on TV until Roy or Jamie came back to take you home with them. 

You would often stay up through the night. You found the act of sleeping post-Zava incident too difficult to do for more than an hour or so at a time. Every time you shut your eyes, your head rushed as if you were being lifted off the ground again with no warning. It was like the curious face of Zava was painted onto the backs of your eyelids, with hundreds of thousands of eyes behind him. You always woke up with a feeling of dread.

Which is why you decided to go on the team’s most recent road trip, finally taking Jamie up on his offer to tag along. You needed a distraction, but didn’t realize that it would be a frantic game of staying hidden from cameras, awkwardly being in hotel rooms and participating in sickening bus rides, so by the time you were back to the safety of Richmond, you were positively wiped – so much so that your usual night terrors weren’t present. 

That is, until you were rudely awakened.

“Stop being such a prick, you little prick.”

“You’re the one who started yellin’ at meh out of nowhere!”

“Not nowhere! You fucking told me not to wake them up, which I already fucking knew– oh my god,” Roy grumbled, looking down at your groggy form. “They’re fucking awake.”

“Right, mate, you woke ‘em up,” Jamie shot back.

“Me?! I didn’t fucking–”

“–Okay, okay!” you cut in, mustering all of your energy to raise your voice. That seemed to stop them for the moment. It never ceased to amaze you that the mere sound of your voice could get two giants to shut up. “What…” you signed as you pushed yourself up, “what are we arguing about this time?”

“Jamie’s being a little prick.”

“Am not!”

“You always think he’s being a little prick,” you pointed out with a small smile.

Roy shrugged. “What’s your point?”

“You should go back to sleep,” Jamie said, an unusual amount of concern in his voice. “You didn’t sleep at all on the bus.”

“Don’t fucking listen to him,” Roy replied. “You’re an intelligent, strong person who is fully capable of making their own fucking decisions.”

“Woah, woah, okay,” you said, holding your hands up. You gestured toward Roy’s desk, and Jamie gently deposited you down on the surface. Like they did every time, the two giants hunched down so they wouldn’t loom so large. “What’s actually going on?”

Jamie and Roy turned to each other, silently acknowledging that they couldn’t bullshit you.

“We were, uh, just–”

“We were talking about you,” Roy admitted. That certainly caught you off guard.

“Me? Why?”

“Old shithead here wanted to know why I, uh, saved you from Zava.”

“Shut it, you little twat, you didn’t save them.”

“Did too! I…” Jamie trailed off when he caught your expression, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. “Sorry.”

You always chuckled at the way his sorries were more like sorrehs. “Roy, I know you’re always mad, but… why are you mad about this, specifically?”

Roy leaned forward ever so slightly, which used to scare the living daylights out of you, but now you found it endearing. “Because he wants you to like him more than Zava.” Roy paused. “Because he fucking hates Zava.”

Just the mere mention of Zava was enough to send your mind into a mini spiral. The two footballers noticed your expression change from tired to anxious, suddenly eyeing them as if they had morphed into completely different people. You blinked hard to get yourself back to reality. “Well, I fucking hate Zava too, you know. Asshole kind of ruined my entire life.”

“See? I told you,” Jamie bragged.

“But that’s what you were arguing about? How much I like Zava?”

“No!” Roy said a little too loudly. His expression softened when you flinched. “Sorry. No, Jamie just got upset when I–.”

“He thinks there’s a catch,” Jamie stated. “Like I have some sort of alterior motive.”

“Ulterior,” Roy grumbled. “It’s ulterior motive.”

“Whatever!”

“Guys!” you shouted, once again shutting them up. “So… it sounds like you woke me up for absolutely no reason, then.”

“Well, not no reason–”

“–he questioned me character, I had no choice but to defend myself–”

“–if this little prick was doing anything that could hurt you, I wouldn’t let that fucking happen–”

“–I’m a changed man, you know–”

“–oh, don’t start with that fucking bull… shit.” Roy looked like a kid caught stealing from a candy shop when he saw your disapproving expression. Jamie, too. 

“Sorry,” they said in unison.

“Look, I just…” you let out a big yawn. “This weekend was hard. I didn’t much like all the traveling, and I was glad to be back home. You guys have done so much for me, I… I don’t like it when you argue.”

Roy and Jamie exchanged upset glances. They hadn’t stopped to think that their constant bickering could take a toll on you.

“Truthfully… these last three months have been the most anxiety-inducing, wild and scary months of my entire life. I mean, you guys will never understand how it feels to be looked down upon or loomed over by dozens of giants all at once, being talked about like I’m not even there… picked up like I’m not even a person…”

“Is that why you don’t sleep?” Jamie abruptly asked. He recoiled when you gave him a look that was almost… scared. “I–I’ve noticed for a while. When I get up at four in the morning for training… you’re usually awake, too.”

After a moment, you nodded meekly, as if you were in trouble.

“Do you think about Zava? Every night?”

You laughed in pity to yourself. “Not just every night. I think about it every fucking moment of my life.”

Roy was practically overflowing with anger, which was an impressive feat, given the way he normally is. “I swear to fucking god, when I see that fucking asshole in the locker room tomorrow, I’m going to tie his dick up to a string and drag him down the fucking motorway until it fucking falls off.”

Your smirk turned into an all-out laugh when Jamie gave him a look of borderline disgust. “I’d do all that myself if I could, I think.”

It was all making sense to Roy now – why Jamie had asked him to be quiet around you in the first place. Truthfully, he didn’t have an eye for these things. He didn’t tend to notice your reactions, your tendencies or your routines when his full attention wasn’t on you. He was abrasive, loud and imposing, and he never really stopped to think that you could be so terrified of that from him specifically. 

Jamie, though, noticed these things more than Roy would ever suspect. This new, team-oriented, down-to-earth Jamie Tartt was much more kind and caring than Roy gave him credit for. He was good with you. He knew what you needed, what might set you off. He was softer and quieter around you. And he sure as hell noticed the little things you did when you didn’t know he was looking at you.

“Do you think about it… even when you’re with us? Even when you’re in me hand?”

You mulled on that for a moment. “No, not always. Sometimes, though…” you looked up, eyes meeting Jamie’s, and under the harsh fluorescent lights, you swear he looked like he was about to cry. You cleared your throat. “You– you have to understand, I had never even been seen by a human before that. This is all so new to me, I...”

Jamie looked ashamed, realizing quickly that you picked up on his guilt. “All the arguin’ gets to you sometimes, don’t it?”

You gave him another embarrassed nod. “Feels a lot like when you first… when you were all talking over each other, and Ted came out to see what was going on, and he – and he saw me… and he just, he started asking me all these questions, like it was my fault I was found, and I didn’t know what to do or say or where to look. I thought… I thought I was going to die. Like Zava would drop me and nobody would save me, or you would all pass me around until I got squished to death.”

“Jesus,” Roy mumbled. “That’s a bit morbid, innit?”

You shrugged. “Pretty standard borrower fare, I’d say.”

“So…” Jamie began, resting his elbows on his knees and cupping his chin with his palms. “What you’re saying… is that you’d be better off not even knowin’ us.”

You tilted your head ever so slightly. He sounded genuinely upset by that.

“Yeah, I mean, I wish I had never been seen at all. But at this point, if I just… disappeared, you would all worry about me. Wonder where I went, maybe even go look for me. But… but who knows who I’d be found by next. Plus,” you said with a small smirk, “getting to eat every single day is something I don’t think I want to give up now.”

“What, you didn’t eat every day before this?” Roy asked cautiously.

You hung your head. “There’s a lot of stuff I haven’t told you.”

“...Maybe you should start,” Jamie said sheepishly. “Tellin’ us stuff, I mean.” He threw his arms out when Roy gave him a questioning look. ‘Ow else are we supposed to know what they’re feeling?”

“Hmph.” Roy stole a glance at you. He hoped it wasn’t obvious, but every time he looked at you, he was in awe that something like you even existed. He didn’t let himself think about it too much, since it scared the shit out of him, but he sometimes wondered if he could ever survive the way you did. Probably not.

“You really give a shit about the way they feel?” Roy asked. Jamie just nodded, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Yeah, alright then.”

“How about, for every day we don’t argue, you tell us somethin’ you haven’t told us before,” Jamie said, an air of mischief to his voice. “That’s fair, right?”

“Hmm.” You plopped down, stretching your legs out and letting out another big yawn. Roy and Jamie gave each other the alright, that was fucking adorable look they often shared.

The more you pondered over what he said, the more your heart swelled. The guys often forgot that you had observed them for years before they discovered you, so you knew more about them than they knew about themselves. But hearing Jamie express just how much he cared about you out loud gave it validity and realness, so it wasn’t just a passive thought in your mind. Jamie wanted you to like him so badly that it pissed off Roy... who was fiercely protective over you. That was adorable.

“Alright, Tartt, you got yourself a deal,” you said with a grin. 

“Go on, then,” Roy goaded. “A deal isn’t a deal unless you shake on it.”

Jamie rolled his eyes but obliged, sticking his index finger a few inches in front of your face. You reluctantly grabbed the tip of his finger with both of your hands, face flushing red at how much amusement Roy was getting from this. After a few hearty jostles, you were practically dizzy.

“Not funny,” you grumbled playfully, pushing Jamie’s finger away with all your might. You laughed as he pretended to fall over backwards from your sheer strength. “I’m exhausted, remember?”

It was Jamie’s turn to stretch. “Right, and I’ve got training in… three hours.”

Roy grumbled in that unintelligible, ambiguous way that only Roy could. You gave him a quizzical look, but Jamie already had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You… don’t… need to… do training tomorrow,” Roy said, like the words had been tortured out of him.

Jamie’s grin stayed present. “Are you sure, coach? ‘Cause I played like shit this weekend.”

“Yeah, you fucking did, you little prick.”

“Really, I don’t mind–”

“Go home, Tartt!” Roy yelled, jumping up from his chair. “Get some fucking sleep, damn it! And take them with you too!” He pointed stiffly at you, which caused you to burst out into laughter.

Jamie shrugged playfully. “Whatever you say, coach.” You happily hopped into his open palm when he placed it next to you, smiling hard at the way Roy snapped from muted delight to anger like a rubber band.

“Try to keep your little twat mouth shut tomorrow,” he warned Jamie. “I want to hear what they have to say.”

“Sure, coach.”

“Well.” Roy stood in the doorframe awkwardly, stiff as a board, not knowing what to do or say or who to look at before finally settling on you. “Goodnight.”

You smiled and gave him a small wave. “Night, Roy.” 

“Goodnight, Roy!” Jamie called out as Roy walked away.

“Fuck you!”

Jamie grinned. “Never gets old.” He lifted you up a bit. “Ready to go home, love?”

Home. Home was AFC Richmond, home was Jamie’s nightstand, home was… well, it was wherever the two of them wanted to bring you. And you quite liked that.

“Yep,” you said, leaning back against the curve of his fingers. You let out a content sigh. “Let’s go home.”

[daz4i]

as soon as i learn how to write and commit to projects and tell stories at length and finish literally anything it's over for you (i will write this damn angel/demon au.)

[kameyyy]

You ever wrote a 3k word long rant ?? On the same day you struggled to write only a hundred words for your wip ?? No ?? Just me ??