#Jealousy looks good on Jamis. Now he just has to do something about it.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Trapped in a vicious cycle of pining? Try gay sex! (More things to learn over at Tiger Tiger!)

[benedictscanvas]

pick me up at seven - roy kent x reader

pairing: roy kent x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k (they won't all be this long i don't think!!)

warnings: language of course, and this is a little steamy but with no actual smut. my favourite genre HA

request: I can’t find any good Roy fics until your recent one and I’m dying for more 😭 Anyway you could write something else for him? Maybe they’re at a bar and he gets pissed when he sees Jamie flirting w her? (Not a pre established relationship) - @kashee-h

a/n: your wish is my demand!! i'm so happy you enjoyed the first roy fic of what i hope are many to come. this one totally got away from me, i loved writing it so so much, thanks for a request that I really got to make my own! <3

---

Roy is the one who’s invited you here. Roy is the one who trekked over to your office at the end of the working day and told you that everyone was going out that evening. Roy is the one who suggested you come, even when you seemed reluctant to join in on what appeared to be an evening for just the players and the coaches. Roy is the one who convinced you that it would be fun, that he’d make sure of it.

All of this is making it very hard for Roy to accept that you are currently sat in a corner booth with someone else. The fact that the person you seemed to be having such an in depth conversation with was Jamie fucking Tartt was the icing on a very shit cake.

He knew he could be having a better night than just sitting on a barstool trying not to watch the two of you, especially when Ted and Beard arrived to get the next round and he didn’t even acknowledge them. They’d hired out a private room, so it was filled with people he generally tolerated the company, some he’d even go as far as to say that he liked. None of that was registering, however. 

Jamie leans in when you can’t hear something he’s said and he watches you nod solemnly, duck your head to stare at the floor as if flustered, and he wants to walk right out that door and never come back. Maybe he could get a job at Chelsea, or something.

“Now, what’s wrong, Jeremy Strong?” Ted asks, and Roy has to bite back a ‘fuck off’ so hard he wonders if his lip is bleeding, “You look just about ready to start wreckin’ the place.”

Out of the corner of Roy’s eye, he sees Beard lean in to whisper in Ted’s ear and points over at you. Ted looks surprised. Roy does not want to deal with this.

“You’re telling’ me our very own Mr Kent has his eyes on our very own Miss Y/L/N? Well, that’s just great! She’s sweet as anythin’, good for you, Roy.”

“She’s sweet on Jamie fucking Tartt, more like,” he says, even though he knows he’s being so fucking unfair. He hates it about himself. He knows how hard he’s worked on these feelings, on frustration and anger and jealousy, knows that a few years ago he’d be getting ready to fight Jamie down an alley further through tonight. Now he’s done that work, however, he can recognise the overriding feeling that he’s actually just hurt and that’s so much worse. It’s much easier to be jealous than upset.

“Does this call for an impromptu meeting of the Diamond Dogs?” Ted asks brightly and Roy is only able to stop him after his second howl. Higgins has looked over briefly but Beard signals him to stay where he is.

“Fuck no,” Roy blurts out, then reconsiders. Maybe he could at least talk to Ted, “I just- I was going to tell her. Tonight.”

“Tell her what?” Ted’s doing that thing where he bats his eyelashes like he’s in some sort of rom-com. Beard’s got his head resting in his hand, looking similarly up at Roy. They’re insufferable. 

“That I fucking like her, okay? Take those fucking looks off your faces.”

Ted and Beard scramble to look normal but come up short. Ted’s got the awful kind of shit-eating grin on his face that he gets when he sees Sam and Jamie hugging or watches Isaac doing his handshakes with everyone before a game.

“So, you’ve been spending time together? Or are you telling her out of the blue?” Beard pipes up.

Roy thinks that over. You’ve been spending a lot of time together actually. More than anyone at the club would probably even believe. He slips away to your office to eat lunch under the guise of needing a break from the American Circus downstairs. You text him when you’ve brought in ice cream because you know he’ll never say no to ice cream. You’ve met Phoebe. That one was by accident in the park, but you stuck around for four fucking hours and nobody made you.

Still, he wonders whether it would be completely shocking to you or whether you’ve been waiting for him to make a proper move. You’re incredibly difficult to read alongside being so stupidly pretty that sometimes he wants to swear less around you. He doesn’t manage it, of course, but he thinks it.

“Yes, we’ve spent time together. No, I don’t know what that means. Probably doesn’t mean shit to her, not that it would be her fault if she doesn't.”

Ted and Beard tilt their heads simultaneously at him and he wishes he could bash their heads together for a moment.

“But it means somethin’ to you, hey coach? I don’t think Miss Y/N sittin’ with Jamie should stop you from tellin' her how you feel about ‘er, hey coach?”

Roy’s lost track of which coach Ted is even talking to, but Beard chimes in.

“Surely her spending time with Jamie should be all the more incentive to tell her. Find out how she feels. Get that crushing disappointment out of the way now. It’s only downhill from here.”

Roy raises a brow at him as Ted gives him a look. Beard sighs, then picks up his drink and seems to disappear. Ted leans into Roy.

“Him and Jane are on a break again, I’m sorry. Look I’m goin’ to have to go find him but he was right, until he wasn’t. Go get ‘er, Ross Gellar!”

And with that, Ted’s gone too, weaving his way through crowds of people until he’s lost to them. When Roy glances back in your direction, Jamie’s got Colin and Isaac beside him instead and you’re nowhere to be found. He sighs and stands from his barstool, making his way to the exit. Maybe he’d think about what Ted and Beard had said tomorrow: for now, he just wanted to go home.

Except for the fact that when he finally managed to push his way outside to breathe in some fresh air, he found you. Leaning against the wall of the club, with definite tears in your eyes, even under the dim street lamp light. He was going to murder Jamie Tartt, slowly, with rope and paint and suffering involved.

But he knew to take a slightly softer approach with you. If at all possible.

“Hey,” he says quietly, trying not to startle you. You're quick to look up at him, startled anyway, and he grits his teeth as he asks, “Are you alright?”

He doesn’t make any comment about what the fuck Jamie had done to you. Doesn’t think it would be received all that well. Again, he’s biting the inside of his lip harder than ever.

“Yes! Oh god, yes, sorry,” you’re blinking furiously. He admires your resolve when the nearly teary face is quickly replaced by that bright smile that makes him weaker in the knees than he already is, “Fuck, sorry. I’m all good. I’m not sure this is my scene, I was just going to call a taxi.”

There’s an opening. He’ll be damned if he’s not taking it, even though confessing anything is the furthest idea from his mind - he’s much more focused on making sure you’re okay and nobody’s done anything to hurt you. If they have, he's already resigned to a short stint in jail if necessary.

“Do you want to walk?”

“Uh, I mean not really. It’s quite late, so…”

“With me, I mean,” he quickly clarified, wanting to bash his head against the brick wall, “I could walk you home, if you wanted. Or not. That’s fine too.”

“Oh, right,” you’re looking down at your feet as you contemplate it, “That would be nice, if you’re sure. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he insists, falling into step beside you as you begin to walk. He wants to give you his jacket and maybe his shirt too with the way you’re shivering, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He’s a fucking coward, but he will get to the bottom of what’s the matter if its the last thing he does, “You gonna tell me what’s wrong now?”

You huff out a frustrated sigh, at him, at yourself, he isn’t sure.

“I made a fucking fool of myself tonight,” you say eventually, and he can’t even imagine you doing that, “I thought…god, it doesn’t matter what I thought. Everything just feels worse when its…1:30 in the morning, don’t you think?”

You’d lifted his hand to check his watch before you said the time. Again, he wanted to hold on, but he let you drop his hand and it just went limp.

“It fucking does, yeah. Don’t think you could make a fucking fool of yourself if you tried though. Not around us lot.”

Your family, he heard Ted’s voice in his head. He was not fucking saying that. To his surprise, you let out a loud bark of a laugh at his words and he was staring at the side of your face as you spoke out into the dark air.

“I thought you were coming to pick me up tonight, you know?” you began, and his heart drops to his shoes. You’re upset about him?

“What?”

“Something you said earlier, when you asked me to come. You asked where I lived, then told me it would be a twenty minute walk to get there. Then you said ‘see you at seven’.”

He could have stopped walking. He had said that, but he was just trying to help you plan out your timings for the evening - you’d mentioned to him once that you were known for having some time blindness when you were getting ready for things. Of course he should have realised how fucking stupid that was, how much that sounded like he would come and walk with you.

He would have fucking loved to walk with you.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, far too loudly for the quiet night that surrounded you. You carried on undeterred, shaking your head. He could see your frustration was at yourself now, and he hated himself even more than he had earlier.

“My fault for assuming, I know. But that’s why I was so late. And when I arrived, trying talk myself into not feeling like a twat, you were already over with Dani and Isaac and Bumbercatch, clearly never intending to come pick me up. Which, why would you, of course. I just…felt shit. Jamie tried to help, bless him, but I just wanted to go home, honestly.”

Roy is the biggest idiot on the planet. He wants to go back into the club and hug Jamie for looking after you, then ask him to punch him in the face. Roy could punch something, anything right now, but he just grits his teeth.

“I’m-” he grunts when his voice comes out all strangled, “I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N. I’m the fucking twat. I was asking where you lived and that to help you with that fucking time blindness thing you told me about. Should’ve known how it sounded though. Fucking idiot.”

He directed the last comment at himself, kicking a stone he’d found on the pavement. He kept his eyes firmly trained on his shoes as the two of you continued walking, now at a significantly slower pace. Your eyes were burning a hole in the side of his face.

There was a silence that stretched on as you stared at him, until-

“Fucking hell,” you groaned, “That’s so fucking sweet. You’re the worst.”

He doesn’t know if he can remember being called sweet before. Phoebe was often excessively complimentary of him in a way that made him uncomfortable, but sweet had never come up. He didn’t feel sweet.

“I am the worst,” he grunted, spiralling, “Making you feel so shit. Ruining your fucking night. I was the one who convinced you in the first place and now you’ve had a shit fucking time and I’m the worst.”

He’s a little out of breath and loud again by the end of his rant. The two of you have stopped walking. You kick the toe of your heel against his shoe, placating.

“No, you’re the worst ‘cause you keep giving me all this hope. I fucking hate hope, no matter what Ted says,” you chuckle to yourself, and he’s not sure what you’re saying but he’s peering into your now smiling expression as he tries to work it out, “Look, do you like me or not? You’re a good guy Roy and either way, I’m grateful that you’re walking me home. I just think if I ask, maybe I can just feel like a twat for the night and get it over with by tomorrow.”

“Do I…like you?”

He sounds thick. He feels thick. Feels like his mouth is full of honey that his tongue is having to wade through to even speak to you. It’s stuck to the bottom of his mouth, heavy.

“Yeah. As in, do you just enjoy eating lunch with me or do you ever look at me and just want to kiss me? Cause I do that all the fucking time, Roy, but I can’t be arsed to dance around it anymore.”

You look really tired as you stare up at him, but he feels more energised than ever. You’ve both just established that he’s the absolute worst, and yet here he is, with everything he could’ve wanted right in front of him. You, looking fucking gorgeous and looking at him like that? Even getting a job at Chelsea wouldn’t help him against you - he was gone.

There’s a smirk on his face that he can’t bite back as he takes your face in both his hands and revels in the gasp he can pull from you. He should have known you’d be the first to say something. You weren’t the coward he was.

“Let’s not fuck about then, yeah?”

Low and breathy. You respond with a nod so eager that he’s practically grinning when he pulls you in. It’s quickly replaced by a hunger he’s been keeping at bay, allowing his hands to slide into your hair as he deepens the kiss almost as soon as it’s started. He can feel your hands clutching at the lapels on his jacket, but he’s more excited when you throw your arms around his neck instead, tugging on the hair at the base of his head.

He growls and you actually whimper. It’s like he’s been set on fucking fire. Like he’s been struck by lightning.

When he pulls away for air, you stay close, peppering kisses along the scruff of his jaw, up the side of his face and back down again. He holds you to him tightly around your waist and feels wanted. He’s wanted you for so long, but to be wanted in return, so openly, it’s both hot and meaningful. He’s not sure anyone’s ever told him they liked him before. Most models he’d dated were pretty sold on the idea that he had to make all the moves.

Still, when you begin trailing kisses down his neck and there’s a hand on the top button of his shirt, he has enough sense about him to stop you. Even if he really doesn’t want to.

“I don’t know what street this is,” he breathes out, low voice little more than a rumble, “But maybe we don't give your neighbours a fucking show.”

You look thoroughly kissed when you look back at him, but he doesn’t think it’ll ever be enough. He leans in to kiss you once more to punctuate his sentence, watching as you duck your head, all shy, even though your arms are still around him. He knows now that when you ducked your head with Jamie, you were embarrassed. This is you properly flustered and it’s one of his favourite looks on you.

“Good call, yeah. Okay. I’m- I’m just around this corner, I think.”

“You think?”

“Shut up, you,” you whack him lightly on the shoulder, as the two of you resume walking, “Think you can make it all the way there?”

“I’d carry you if my knee wasn’t fucked,” he admits, watching you with a lopsided smile, “Really fucking like you, by the way. If that wasn’t proof. Thought you should hear me fucking say it.”

You close your eyes in a little half laugh - giddy, he thinks. 

“Well, I did wonder. We’ve spent a lot of time together the last few weeks for someone who doesn’t like spending time with people.”

“Your first clue,” he agrees, taking your hand with pride now as the two of you keep walking, turning the corner towards your house. The pace is a lot quicker than it was before. He hopes he knows why, “I’ll be less of a fucking idiot now. Promise.”

“Eh, don’t worry,” you shrug, letting go of his hand only to thread your arm through his and take hold of his hand again, even tighter, “Nothing sexier than fucking idiots. I like my men with no thoughts behind their eyes.”

He properly laughs at that, head tilted back, feeling your head against his arm as you laugh with him. You slow down, gesturing left. Your house. The two of you walk down the drive until you’re at the door, face to face again and Roy is having a small internal battle.

“Look, I know you said no show for the neighbours,” you begin, almost nervously, “But does that mean a…private show is totally off the table too?”

He watches you picking at your nails. Can’t help it. He pulls you in for another breathless kiss, just to watch you come alive again, confident and fucking into him, however much of a miracle it seems. You pull away this time, clearly keen for an answer, but he groans.

“Tryin’ to be a fucking gentleman, here. Why don’t we do dinner tomorrow? Proper date. And I’ll fucking pick you up.”

You giggle. Still, there’s a glint in your eyes, as you sigh melodramatically.

“That does sound nice. Only thing is, there could be an intruder in here, you know? So, and I’ll only ask once more and then I promise I’ll let you go if you say no, but maybe you should walk me to my bedroom? To make sure I’m safe, you know? And then you can pay for my breakfast in the morning like a good old fashioned gentleman, if you want.”

You’re looking up at him, all hopeful again. His resolve is dwindling. You spin your keys around one finger and its a simple gesture, but it’s the final straw.

“I’m paying for your fucking lunch too,” he growls, diving into you once again. He’s beside himself when he hears you mutter a faint ‘thank fuck’ as you fumble to unlock the door and all but drag him inside.

---

if you've read this far, i fucking love you, you beautiful sunflower <3 requests open for this angry man and his favourite jamie tartt if you're interested!!

[theywantedplayer]

I’m in desperate need of Trevor fics. If you could do a jealousy one?

You were out with Trevors team celebrating their win against the Blue Jackets. Trevor was doing his thing probably with Jamie at his side so you set up camp at the bar until someone sat beside getting your attention. 

 It was one off trevors teammates Isac Lundestrom. You didn't want to be rude to one of your boyfriend's teammates so you decided to start up a Conversation with the man.

‘You guys played really well tonight” you praised 

‘Thank you thank you we did pretty good” he smiled

“You did  well Two assists not that bad Lundestrom” you laughed

“I do what i gotta do to help the team” He laughed back 

But on the other side of the bar Trevor completely forgot about his game of beer pong with Jamie. He was only looking at the way Lundestrom was making you laugh and how close he was leaning in. What was he saying that was making you laugh so much yea sure he is a funny guy but not that funny.

Trevor was starting to get jealous yea he trusted you but not other people 

Look at you, you have to be the hottest one in the bar right now.

‘Trevor it's your turn go man” Jamie said 

‘Oh yea sure” he didn't know he spaced out for that long 

He grabbed one of the bing pong balls and tried to take a shot at one of the red solo cups 

“Ha drink up Jambo” Trevor laugh as he sunk one of the red solo cups

‘This games unfair” Jamie sighed as he drank what was in the red solo cup

“Its only unfair Becsuse im kicking your as right now, You have no Hand-eye coordination” Trevor Teased 

“I'm a defenseman”Jamie tried to defend himself

“ well you can't defend your cups to save your life Jambo” Trevor chirped 

Jamie was about to say something back before a loud laugh got Trevor's attention he turned to where it came from and it came from you still chatting with Lundestrom Except the only thing that was different was that his hand was on your  arm sure it could have been all innocent but knowing his teammate it wasn't

“okay Trevor watch this”  Jamie said throwing one of the ping pong balls and horribly missing the cup

“ Jamie you still suck”  Trevor laughed walking away

 as Trevor was walking over to you Lundestrom his other hand was reaching for your thigh

“ fuck that”  Trevor spit out to himself

 as Trevor made his way over to you Lundestrom retracted, his hand like he was caught red-handed. Lundestrosms Sudden Change in mood caught your attention until you realized why.

“hey babe”  Trevor said sneaking his hand over your waist “ thought I just come over and join in this really funny conversation  what were you saying Lundestrom?”

“Um  we were just talking about the game and how the team played really well “ He was struggling to find an excuse and Trevor knew it he got him

“didn't seem like it seems like Y/N  was laughing up a storm over here so what's so funny”  Trevor leaned in

“nothing man we were just talking about the game and how fun we had playing it” Lundestrom  responded

“Do you want to know a really fun game beer pong Jamie's playing it on the other side of the bar why don't you go over there”  Trevor  was trying to be passive aggressive but he was kind of missing the passive

“sounds like a great idea” Lundestrom  said getting up off of his bar stool “ it was nice talking with you y/n” he smiled 

“It's nice talking with you too Lundestrom”  Trevor yelled as he walked away

“Trevor what was that”  you said turning your stool to face him “ I think someone got a little jealous” you  teased

“Fuck  of course I was jealous that guy was all over you”   he laughed running his hand through his hair

“ 'm Yours remember that I wouldn't let him take it any farther because he's not you” you  smiled wrapping your hands around his waist

“yeah nobody in this bar is like me especially not Jamie” he smiled  you gave him a confused look

 “he sucks at beer pong  he's drank about a game and a half  and he's still going to lose up against Lundestrom  so we may have to give him a ride home” he said Leaning down to kiss your forehead

 you laughed and response “ good to know”

 there was some loud cheering across the bar so you and Trevor both looked over

“Drink up Jamie!” Lundestrom yelled 

 as Jamie held the cup up to his lips he was groaning

“when Trevor said you were bad at this game I didn't think you were that bad” Lundestrom laughed 

 all Jamie did was hold up the middle finger as he chugged the rest of what was in that red solo cup

[freeworldallahexecutivembaclass]

Back to normal I decided to go back with my crew TRF from Harlem that is my borough and only borough I claim everywhere else have worked with police against me and that is African Americans doing that working with police and racist white people that is jealousy they rats for that in any black neighborhood in New York III City anyhow I own hospitals libraries now in New York City I got my own and I got musical theatres in my honor granting me what hip hop try to take from me they gave it back to me my second chance with the 2nd stage theater you know the story me and MK Michael Drayton my boy and brother for life cousins is my cousins and aunts is my aunt's brothers is our brothers was trying to get with some girls from Boston and they duped us they disappeared on us when we back to lay up in the hotel with them anyway anything about my nigger bad news about him is a lie his music is hot got a wife and kid and friend of mines and brother of mines for life and I'm burying it and I'm unavailable ain't no mock trial or mocking courtrooms with me that is rat bastard behavior and I don't fuck with it , Jay Z gave me something four years ago a career I got to get to it and I got my second stage theater so I'm stuck doing music anyway it's my gift now since hip hop XXL magazine and a collection artists that fuck with them try to steal my life from me and did what they did to me they gave it back to me they gave me my music career back what was stolen from me I got it back people in the hip hop industry work with police they do anything to get footage or the news about me I said I'm an private individual and is unavailable to them I got the responsibility of the Carter's animated series and the role as Jay Z son in my music career and he suppose to be taking me on with ROC Nation that is what ahead of us and what to be in the look out for anyway my posting career is over I did a great job helping the people the common man and woman so I'm gone enjoy the movies those are some of my favorite actors , rappers and singers up there enjoy it and see you soon this page has been buried , thank you good job free world aka Allen Henry . I said to any attachments and to reiterate that African Americans really do just mind their own business too much not all of them like that most I can say is they mind their own business too much white people could just come along and murder a black person in front of them and most of the time it's them setting it up for white people to railroad a nigger so nah I can't fuck with that and no I don't got beef with bloods they cool we different they live that rock star life they dem boys the drug dealers and with the flock of bitches with them me I'm mostly just a dweeb a book reader and artistic creative person with futuristic ideas and every group hired me to do the job of helping our community but I leave that to Farrakhan and his Nation of Islam the professionals they save black men and women lives and make us change our ways they did that for me now I gotta leave them alone plus my siblings is white my brother and sister is white I claim them and they apologized and gave me my establishments they are my blood so the spoiled white kids can't use their white privilege on me because they my blood too and they gave it to me so the buildings is mines I said thank you and all races of people be there so I choose to get along and say thank you to everybody that helped me thanks , thank you Tom Brady for going all the way to tell me don't retire keep going with gray hairs and all that thank you Jamie Foxx about time damn I hated the electro role from Spiderman the villain that turns to an active shooter and terrorist that police kills in New York City thank you 50 Cent for sponsoring me he checks the page once in awhile they sway too much that's the puppet master controlling me and no I ain't feeling them and I want them off of me it's no drama about me I got a gimmick and I'm drawing my music the animated series and my music career to go back enjoying my life for my privacy from people thank you and goodbye .

[matsbarzal]

can you please do fluff #15 with Jamie Oleksiak???

15. "i can't wait to see you." - jamie oleksiak

word count: 1.6k pairing: jamie oleksiak x reader

Jamie had left for Seattle the day he got the call from his agent.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t upset about how quickly things were changing. One second, he was a fan favourite of the Dallas Stars, next he was being left unprotected and easily getting swept up by the Seattle Kraken in the midst of the expansion draft.

He had promised you things wouldn’t change too much, that the two of you would be able to work everything out and figure out what you were going to do, whether you were going to follow him to Seattle or try to make it work from miles away. He had promised you that you guys would figure it out before engulfing you up in his arms, his body wrapping eagerly around you as you pressed yourself as close to his as you could.

Jamie bid you goodbye with an eager press to your lips, his body ducking down while your lips moulded against each other, the unspoken words flowing through before he pulled away, a quick press of his lips to your forehead and one last hug before he had to make his way through the airport.

That was three days ago, and you were already starting to lose it a little on the inside. Jamie was busy, you knew that it was inevitable, but the two of you had barely had the opportunity to talk, the Kraken hoarding him and his teammates during the short week they had with them before they let the players loose for the summer.

Every time your phone vibrated, or your watch dinged, or you felt even the slightest movement of your phone, you were pulling it up to your face and trying to figure out if it was Jamie messaging you or calling you, but it never was. Especially in the middle of the day.

Except for this time.

The FaceTime request shined bright on the screen in front of you, Jamie’s contact name evident at the top of the screen as the FaceTime sound made its way throughout the small deck you found yourself on. You were still in Jamie’s Dallas house, agreeing that he’d meet you there the moment Seattle let him go free for the summer.

His face appeared on the screen, a wide toothy grin crossing his face when he made eye contact through the screen.

“Look at that beautiful damn face, baby. I’ve missed you.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you could feel your cheeks start to warm as his compliment. “Don’t go getting all sappy now, Big Rig, I still have almost a week until I get to see your handsome face in person.”

“What if it was… less than a week?”

Quirking an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue as you didn’t let any words pass your lips.

“I’ve been thinking. We have a lot of free time in Seattle, I’ve just been spending it with the boys, but Ebs is bringing his wife up on Thursday, and Tanev said he’s flying his girlfriend up tomorrow. You wanna come? See the city I’m going to beg you to move to?”

The immense joy that burst inside of you at his words was incomparable. That was the last thing you were expecting Jamie to say, you didn’t even let a thought cross your mind before you were nodding your head eagerly, a large grin taking over your face as you looked at your boyfriend through the screen.

“Oh my god, yes. Obviously yes, one hundred times yes.”

A wide grin took over Jamie’s face as he watched your excitement play out. He had barely given it a though when his teammates said they were bringing their wives and girlfriends to go house-hunting with them, citing the fact that it would be a better idea to get started now than at the end of the summer and right before training camp.

Jamie quickly jumped on the idea, knowing full well that there was no guarantee you were moving from Dallas to Seattle for him, but after all of the houses he had the opportunity to see in his few days here, he knew it would be easy enough to convince you how worth it the move would be. He just didn’t know how right he was.

“Glad you said yes, your plane ticket should already be sitting in your email. See you tomorrow at 10am, babe.”

Mock groaning at the early flight time, all you did was pout as Jamie continued to grin back at you.

“I can’t wait to see you, baby.”

“I can’t wait to see you either, lover.”

Your arms barely wrapped all the way around his body, your frame tucked happily against his own large one as the both of you ignored the hordes of people walking past. Solely focused on each other, Jamie whispered sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how much he’d missed you, and how happy he was to see you, and how excited he was for you to see Seattle.

The cool air of his rental car greeted you kindly, the warm Seattle air unexpected. You couldn’t deny that Jamie was right, Seattle was beautiful, and you did love it practically the moment you saw it.

His hand was pressed gently against the exposed thigh above your knee, eagerly pressing a kiss to your lips at every stoplight, squeezing your thigh with every laugh that passed his lips. You had missed him so much, and this was why. He was attentive, and kind, and just a constant figure, he constantly made his presence known and apparent, constantly made sure you knew how loved you were and how obsessed with you he was.

“I feel like we’re going the complete opposite way of the hotel?”

“How would you know where the hotel is, nerd? You’ve never even been here before.”

Pursuing your lips at him, you turned your head slightly to look out the back window, the downtown core of Seattle highlighted in the view you were currently looking at. Forcing your body back around to glance at him, you quirked an eyebrow in response.

Rolling his eyes playfully, all Jamie did was squeeze your thigh again and grin. “I’m showing you something that I think you’ll love. Brought you out here for a reason, didn’ I?”

Shrugging your shoulders with a smile, you grabbed his much larger hand and entwined your fingers with his. His response: a light and gentle squeeze before pressing the back of your hand to his lips and then moving your entwined fingers back to the top of your thigh.

The house began to appear, the downtown core slowly dissipating as Jamie made his way more and more towards the suburbs of Seattle. The houses were all beautiful, the minimalistic and cottage core-like aesthetic flowing through the area the deeper and deeper Jamie found himself driving.

It took a few minutes for Jamie to find the parking lot he was looking for, a playground parking lot the most vacant lot he could find in the area. Curious, you followed his lead, unbuckling your seatbelt and following him out of the car. His arm easily wrapped around your shoulder as he directed you on where to walk, the conversation flowing lightly between the two of you.

The area was quiet, there were some families on the playground, couples walking their dogs, but it was quiet, and homey. Similar to the area you and Jamie lived in, in Dallas.

Pointing with his hand that wasn’t attached to the arm wrapped around your shoulder, you averted your eyes to gaze at the object. Your eyes met the bright right of a ‘sold’ sign, the beautiful mint-coloured home behind it staring back at you.

“Jordan Eberle and his wife bought this house before they even looked at it. Ebs and I went yesterday, it’s so gorgeous in there. You’d love it. Open-concept kitchen, the living room couches won’t be pressed against the wall, the master bedroom has two walk-in closets. You’d be so jealous.”

You couldn’t deny the jealousy that creeped up inside of you at the sounds of what he was describing. Four things ticked off your list for the future house Jamie and you would one day hopefully inhabit, almost immediately? Sounded too good to be true.

The two of you continued, before stopping in front of a second house, just steps away from the previous one you had eyed.

“This house is almost identical. Except for the colour, obviously. But the baby blue and white are cute, no?”

Nodding your head at his words, you couldn’t deny that the house was cute. Minimalistic, a nice white porch, a swing prevalent just steps away from the front door. Just the outside alone was everything you had always dreamed of and more.

“Almost the same setup inside, except one of the walls on the main floor may have to be torn down to accommodate an open concept kitchen,” quirking an eyebrow at his words, you turned to him with a questioning look in his eyes.

“I want you to move to Seattle with me, I’m prepared to put an offer in for this house in 25 minutes if you say you like the house and that you’ll move here. I’ll even let you decorate it to your heart’s desire, be our own little interior designer or whatever.”

You could barely contain the smile of glee at his words, you had been on edge about following Jamie to another city after getting situated in Dallas for the second time, change was hard, but when it felt like change kept occurring every two years… well… it made things even more difficult.

It was like Jamie could sense your worries as he started again, “Seattle’s in it for the long-run. The contracts five years. I think here is it for us, baby. I think you’d love it here, and I think you’d love this house.”

“Show me our future house then, Mr. Oleksiak.”

note: I hope you enjoyed!!! thank you for requesting one <3

[w-ndrr]

distraction | diana prince x batgirl!reader (m)

a/n: this is nsfw! viewer discretion advised :) i also don’t write a lot of smut so i will try my very best. thanks for reading! <3 xoxo isabelle

summary: (possessive wonder woman x batgirl!reader smut) after diana and bruce’s little sister!reader have a falling out, they meet again at bruce’s little soirée and they do the thing >.<

word count: hold up idk yet (update ok now i know it’s 4.27k+)

warnings: AHEMMM the tiniest bit of angst, overprotectiveness, jealousy, possessiveness, make up sex? idk, smut; top!diana, fingering, oral, dirty talk?, hair pulling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, marking, body worship, and her f*cking lasso

Gotham City was the pride of criminals and wrongdoers. At every corner of any street, there is always a victim at the receiving end of these crimes. It was dark place to be—to live in. The endless corruption in this city felt suffocating to be even a part of. You couldn’t imagine why a person would want to live here. Especially, with a clown always on the loose. But, the Batman has always come to save the day... Usually.

Batman was the shoulder the people of this crime infested city would lean on. Time and time again, he’s saved his city, delivering justice to the criminal element. But, he was a busy man. Under his vigilante persona, he was Bruce Wayne; he’s got a company to run, a public to satisfy and little sister to protect.

Unfortunately, having a brother like him, you followed a lot of his footsteps and decided to go save the city sometimes, too, which he passionately protested for you not to do so. You were Batgirl. And you told him that he’s got other bigger responsibilities like being a highly treasured member of the his little superhero club, the Justice League.

You’ve met the members of the Justice League. They were interesting people and they were friendly sometimes. One of them stood out, though.

Her name was Diana. Diana Prince. And you had fallen in love with her as did she. Her intelligence and determination to protect everyone was endearing. Not to mention, she was a beauty amongst beauties and you had willingly wrapped yourself around her finger.

Her love for you was undeniable. She wanted to protect you at all costs and if any harm had come to you, she would never forgive herself for not being there. She wanted you safe all the time.

But, as Batgirl, that was something you couldn’t promise.

Sometimes you would come home to her with fatal injuries and she would have to tend to your wounds. And every second, she loathed it. She hated it when you bled. She hated it when you came home with bruises and cuts. She hated it when you would cry when it was too painful.

And after almost two years of being together, the both of you fought and argued and screamed at each other. Out of anger, Diana had admitted to you being weak with no powers. She has faced many strong dangers and she believed it would be hard for you to stand against a villain who possesses powers from beyond. The words that spilled her mouth had shocked even her and she tried to take it all back but, it was too late.

You were livid. She thought you were weak, and you were angry. You stormed off and cried into the arms of your big brother. Bruce understood what Diana was thinking. At some point, he thought of you like that, too. In a way, he still kind of does. And that was okay. He’s your big brother and he should be protective the same way Diana should be.

It had been months since you spoke to Diana; the last conversation you had together didn’t go so well. You were still angry at her, but you also missed her. You loved being with her. Sometimes, because of it, you wanted to just forget about the whole fight and go back.

But, you’re not weak. And you knew that.

Lately, Bruce has been trying really hard to make your days better. He knew it would be hard to do so without the Amazonian. He also knew she was the key to making you happy.

So, he threw a gala in an attempt to get the two of you back together.

You hated parties, whether it contained solo cups, cheap beer, and blaring music or inconsequent polite conversation, canapes, and wine. You didn’t like them. You would usually put on an act as you entered the room; Bruce Wayne’s beautiful little sister. She was charismatic, a little cocky, liked to mingle, liked to drink. All which you are not.

Even though Bruce knew you wouldn’t want to go to a stupid party at the top floor of one of his hotels, it was the only way to get you and Diana into a room together without worrying about world problems. Bruce told her about the plan. You would be angry, she already predicted that, but she missed you. By the gods, she misses you so much. She would do anything to see you.

And when she did, her body ached for you. She saw you through a sea of business men and women and other important people she could care less about. You glowed in that beautiful silk gown and her eyes stuck to you like glue. Your stride, your confidence and your back, on full display, caught the eye of innumerable people in the room and she wanted to hide you—to keep you away from their lingering eyes. You belonged to her.

As she was just about to walk towards you, she heard your laugh. When she looked to the side, there was a man dressed in a fancy, three piece suit standing in front of you with a glass of champagne in between his fingers, just like you.

Bruce walks past Diana and before he could walk away successfully, she grabbed the collar of his suit jacket and pulled him close enough to talk.

“Who is that?” Diana pointed in your direction.

Bruce’s eyes darted to you then to your partner, “Oh, that’s Jamie Harris, one of the head scientists at my Biotech department... Also, (Y/N)’s—”

“Ex. Got it.”

Diana shook her head and sighed. You had only mentioned him once when you and Diana had talked about past significant others.

“What’s your plan, princess?” Bruce raises an eyebrow at the tall woman.

“What do you think I should do?”

“I would recommend just going up to her,” Bruce suggests. “Interrupt them before they doing anything big. You never know, he could be asking her out right now.”

The Amazonian nodded as she turned her head back towards your direction. Clenching her jaw at the sight of you and this short man, she walked over confidently with her eyebrows furrowed. When she got close enough, Diana had to clear her throat to grab both of your attention.

“Ahem,” Diana pursed her lips slightly before putting on a synthetic smile. “Do you mind if I interrupt?”

Diana watched as you met her gaze before immediately taking a large sip of your champagne with your soft, pretty lips. She sees your jaw clench and your eyes glance everywhere but her.

“Not at all,” the man exclaims happily, straightening his posture as he watches the woman that joined them. “Mind I interest you in a glass, Miss...”

“Prince,” Diana nods at him although she could care less about whatever comes out of this puny man’s mouth. “(Y/N). It’s nice to see you again.”

After preparing, you give her a fake smile and say, “I wish I could say the same to you, Diana.”

The Amazonian swears her she felt a sharp pain in her chest. She licks her lips and stares at the floor. She notices your foot tapping against it as if you were getting impatient and her eyes traveled from your feet, to the hand the rested lowly at the curve your hip, up to your collarbones, then to your neck that she missed to kiss so much. Diana felt her mouth go dry. You looked so good. All she wanted now was to take you away from this man and everyone else in this room just to have you all to herself. Her body ached to touch you—to feel your skin against hers.

But, this man was in the way.

“Ahem. Nice to meet you, Miss Prince,” Jamie gives her a smug smile and puts her hand out to shake hers. “I’m Jamie Harris! You can call me Jamie. A scientist working under Bru—”

“That’s great, Mr. Harris,” Diana says without even giving him a glance given that her eyes were practically glued onto you. “You look stunning, Miss Wayne.”

“She does, doesn’t she?” Jamie butts in with a laugh. “You should see her in the morning! Her does this curl thing and it looks ridicu—”

“I beg to differ, Mr. Harris,” Diana clenched her jaw even harder and glares at him. “In fact, I hope you are not criticizing her hair when you have the same do as Colonel Muammar Gaddafi.”

“I—Uh. W-Who—”

“ A dictator. I’m sorry. I forget you’re a scientist, not a politician—”

“Diana.”

Your voice held so much authority over her; it stopped her in her tracks and she stutters only for a moment before turning her head back to you. She swallows the lump in her throat as she studies the look on your face. Your eyes were bold, glaring at her with her brows furrowed.

“A word, please,” you tell her with a sigh. “Alone.”

Diana takes a deep breath in attempt to let out some steam. She feels your hand grab her arm to take her away from the crowds and out into a secluded hall. The moment you touched her, she felt like she was on fire. She followed behind you and watched the way you walk and by the gods, she wanted nothing more than to put her hands on your hips if you’d let her.

After you decided that it was far enough from the party, you turned around with your brows furrowed as you looked at her, her brows furrowed as well. You inhaled slowly as she crossed her arms over her chest. God, she was distracting. You shook your head and closed your eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing talking to your—”

“Ex, Diana? What’s wrong with it?” you yell at her. “I’m doing the same thing right now, aren’t I?”

Diana is taken back for a moment. Sometimes, she denies that the two of you actually broke up. You watch her as she brings her long fingers up to scratch her neck slowly. God, it was distracting.

“(Y/N). I don’t like it when you talk to other people who are obviously interested in you,” the Amazon tells you firmly. “It angers me.”

“I can do whatever I want, Diana. The last time I checked, we’re not together anymore,” you step closer to her. “And I’m not weak! I don’t need you or Bruce to tell me what I can and can’t do. I know I don’t have powers like you or Clark or Barry. I know that very well. I know I have to be more careful than all of you because I don’t get a second chance. But, Bruce does the same thing everyday! Why can’t I? I’ve trained the same as he has. I’ve fought the same as you all have! I make my own choices. Diana, I’m tired of everyone treating me like I’m glass!”

After you were finished, you heaved for air and your eyes had brimmed with tears. You had barely taken a breath since you started talking. Diana had watched your chest rise up and down and to be honest, it was really attractive when you did. Diana mentally cursed at herself for thinking about you like that after you had poured your heart out. But, by the gods, you were so distracting.

Diana had only stared at you after your speech and it only made you furious. Rubbing your fingers over your temples, you closed your eyes and let out a sigh.

“I’m done with this,” you throw your hands into the air and attempted to walk past her.

Before you could get away, Diana places her hand on your upper arm and pulls you back. She wasn’t really thinking as much as she was doing. And you weren’t exactly prepared for this next move she had in mind; in fact, it’ll leave you speechless.

“Diana—”

Her lips pressed against yours, hardly wasting no time to slide them together with a tilt of her head. Her nose brushes against yours and you sigh into the kiss. God, you’ve missed her. Even if she made you angry, you’ve missed her so much these past few months.

Diana kisses you like you were the finest thing she’ll ever taste. She kisses you with so much force that it’s all you could think about. And when she slipped her tongue past your lips to meet yours, you almost fell weak at your knees, but she released the grip on your arm and pressed her hand flat on your back, pressing you against her front firmly. You held onto her shoulders as you moaned into her mouth. Gods, when you did, Diana aggressively fought the urge to take you right there in this hall.

Diana pulls her head back to look at you. Your lipstick was slightly smudged and your eyes were half lidded as you breathed heavily.

“I’m getting us a room.”

The Amazonian thanked Bruce in her head for throwing this damn party on the rooftop of one of his hotels. So, she dragged you far, far away from the soirée and into a bed.

Before the door even opened into the room, Diana had your legs wrapped around her waist as she carried you in. She almost wanted to kick the door down after struggling to get the keycard through the slot, but it didn’t even matter. She had pressed your back against the door, lips sliding over each other, as she slipped the keycard in.

The door opened with an electronic beep and you were met with a wide room with a large white bed in front of a large window looking down at the city lights almost seventy stories up from the ground. The view illuminated the room dimly and there was no need to even turn the lights on.

Diana closed the door with her foot and slammed you against the wall (as lightly as she could without hurting you). Your hands tangled up in her hair as she moves her lips from your mouth, to your jaw, and then down to your neck. She bit on you lightly before sucking passionately until a bruise formed. And she didn’t stop. She marked you all over your neck. After she would give you a hickey, she would run her tongue over it softly. She would kiss you behind your ear, underneath your jaw, and back to you lips. She missed you so much and she couldn’t wait to mark you all over your body like you belonged to her; and you did.

Diana easily ripped your gown off and slid it down from your shoulders (it’s fine, she’ll buy you a new one). You were pressed up against her and the wall behind you as you held her waist tighter with you legs. The Amazonian rested her head in the crook of your neck as her hand slid down from your waist to your panties. She felt the warmth and wetness through the fabric and it made her groan. By the gods, you were so wet. It turned her on so much.

“Diana,” you heaved.

She waited. It was all up to you if you wanted to continue because, fuck, once she starts taking you, she won’t stop. But, if you wanted to stop, she would stop.

“Diana, Diana,” you whined as you ran a hand through her hair. “Please. Please. Fuck, Diana... I need you.”

Diana immediately slips her hand into your underwear and pushes a fingers into you. She listens to you moan as she presses against your walls. Quickly finding your g-spot, Diana pulls her head away from your neck to watch your mouth open, to watch you gasp, to watch you furrow your eyebrows, and to watch you lean your head back against the wall.

You had said her name ten times already tonight and each time it turned her on. She couldn’t wait to get you to moan and scream her name as many times as she could get you to. She couldn’t wait.

“You sound so beautiful,” she coos. “I’m going to make you come and come until you can’t take it anymore.”

Diana slips another finger into you and you held onto her shoulders as you moan at the sound of her voice and the feeling of her long fingers pistons in and out of you quickly.

“You’re going to scream for me, my love,” Diana whispers in your ear. “You’re going to let everyone know who you belong to. Okay?”

“D-Diana,” you moan.

“Is that clear?”

“Yes!” you yell. “Fuck yes, Diana!”

Her fingers move faster and faster and it keeps you moaning for her. You get tighter and tighter and soon, Diana has to speed up and apply more pressure to bring you closer and closer to the edge. Searing sensations spread from your core and through out your body and the moment she pressed her thumb onto your clit, you come undone.

You can feel wetness gushing out of you with each flick of her thumb as your legs shake around her. Diana breathes into your neck as she listens to you pant for air with a shaky breath. She lets you ride out your orgasm only for a moment because she wants to move on to the next step.

You moan as you feel her fingers slip out of you with a squelch. Without breaking eye contact, Diana brings her slick fingers to mouth and licks your juices off, sucking on her fingers like a lollipop. By the gods, you tasted divine. She can’t wait to have more. You gasp as she leans in to kiss you again with the taste of you still on her tongue. Her kisses were far from controlled as she sucked on your bottom lip, biting it softly until you groaned into her mouth.

“Shit, Diana.”

Diana smiles and easily carries you over to the bed and lays on you on top it, near the edge. She stood in between your legs and before she does anything else, you watch her slide out of her dress smoothly down her skin. Her eyes never left your gaze. She was so turned on seeing you laid out on the bed, waiting for her to take you. The Amazonian climbs on top of you and kisses you passionately with a moan as your hands meet her bare back. In a swift movement, Diana slips a hand underneath you and unclasps your bra before sliding the straps down your pretty shoulders.

Her eyes hungrily roam over your breasts and your curves and Diana wastes no time to mark you. She leaves hickeys on your shoulders, down the valley of your breasts, and on your stomach. She was in love with the way you looked right now.

“You look so beautiful, (Y/N), my love,” she says, putting a nipple into her mouth. “Your body was made for me.”

She sucks on it for a seemingly long period of time before switching to your other breast. Listening to you moan as she ducked on your nipples gave her butterflies. She starts kissing your lower stomach at the moment and hooks her thumbs through your underwear, pulling them down at a painfully slow pace. When she finally pulls your underwear off, your entrance is met with the cold air.

“Nobody can have you but me,” she tells you firmly, running her hands down your sides. “You’re mine.”

Diana excitedly pushes your knees apart for each other, spreading your legs for her. She stared desperately, eyes swallowing the beautiful sight of your slick entrance. Your thighs were still wet from earlier and she wasted no time kissing up your inner thigh. They starts off as soft, light kisses before leaving hickeys on the inside of your thighs. You were so close to her entrance but she still hasn’t put her tongue on you yet.

“Diana, please.”

She hummed against you before dragging her tongue up your thighs, tasting your juices from earlier. She used her fingers to spread your pussy lips apart. Her tongue ran up and down your lips, lapping at whatever she could to simply gather your taste. And once she did, gods, she drove her head deeper into you.

All you could do was pant and moan as the woman, with her head between legs, devours you like it was her last meal. You run your hands through her hair before pulling on it when her tongue reaches a sensitive spot. And when you moaned louder because of it, she doesn’t stop stimulating that spot over and over again until you’re a moaning mess for her.

She lapped all the juices that were spilling from your entrance like she was starving as she her fingers kept you spread open for her. Diana’s lips wrapped around your lips and sucked as hard as she could before they moved to another much more sensitive area. She pursed right around the nub of your clit, sucking it into her mouth. She flicked her tongue against it causing you to moan her name over and over again until you came a second time on her tongue.

Your juices spill out of you and your legs tremble uncontrollably as your heavy pants were heard throughout the room, however, Diana doesn’t stop just yet. She continues fuck you through your orgasm, sucking on your sensitive clit before slipping two fingers inside of you, moving at a quick pace.

“Oh, my god, D-Diana! I’m—Fuck! Please—”

You’re screaming at this point as she continues to overstimulate you. Your hands desperately pushing at her head as your legs keep trembling. Pulling her fingers out of you, she pulls her golden lasso from out of nowhere and quickly ties your wrists up to the headboard. Diana spreads your thighs as wide as they could go once while holding your hips down as she goes back to lewdly sucking your clit. Slurping at whatever she tastes, she groaning in happiness as she covers your whole pussy with her mouth. Her hands reach down to grope at your the flesh of your ass and push your hips further into her face.

“God, Diana! You’re gonna make me come,” you shake your head as moan, “I’m coming, I’m fucking comin—— Diana!”

She pushes you into a third orgasm as you arch you back against the mattress and scream her name once again. Diana happily laps and swallows all of the juices spilling out of you before pulling her head up from between her legs. You came twice on her tongue already and you felt drained of energy.

“You taste so good, (Y/N),” Diana licks her lips; there’s a visible shine on chin where your cum was dripping from her mouth.

You don’t have the energy to respond just yet, so you lay there catching your breath. Feeling lips kiss you softly up from your stomach to your neck and jaw, Diana presses her lips softly against yours with the taste of you still on her tongue, but you pull away to speak first.

“What about you?”

“I only intended to making you feel good. Besides, your pleasure gives me pleasure,” Diana shakes her head and smiles, leaning down to kiss you again.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you murmured against her lips. “I barely lasted these few months without you. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to go back to you so badly, but I’m going to stand my ground because—”

“(Y/N).”

She stops you from going any further, knowing it was the lasso making you talk. With a sigh, Diana looks away from your face and unties the golden ropes at your wrists and throws it onto the floor.

You gently place the palm of your hands on her neck just below her jaw, using your thumbs to turn her head and face you.

“I do miss you,” you quickly give her a peck, only for her to chase your lips with hers. “But, Diana, I need you to trust in me a little more. We all get hurt in our battles and we all come back stronger afterwards.”

You can feel her jaw clenching with your thumbs. Her eyes were closed shut and her breathing staggers a little bit.

Diana opens her glossy eyes after a moment as a single tear drops from her eyes to your face, “I am truly sorry for what I said. I don’t think you’re weak at all. You’re strong, (Y/N). And brave. And you’re willing to give your life to save people. I guess I’m just scared of that because—”

“I know, Diana. I understand,” you nod your head as you look up at her, propped up by her elbows so that she could hover over you. “I’m sorry.”

Diana shakes head rapidly and apologizes more. She puts a hand over one of yours which was caressing her face. She kisses the palm of your hand before finally giving in and puts her whole weight on you, placing her face in the crook of your neck where she kisses you softly.

“Are we okay?”

“Let’s just have this moment and deal with everything else later,” Diana smiles into your neck, seeing all of the hickeys she left on you.

You nod your head as your eyes start to get heavy. Closing your eyes shut, you let your self fall into a calm slumber as Diana’s voice was the last thing you hear.

“I love you. We’ll be okay.”

a/n: i’m sorry if this was kind of long and if there’s some errors bc i didn’t proofread this at all bc i’m fking lazy haha but thank you so much for reading!!

xoxo isabelle

[decodingellipses]

Trans Inclusion On Screen Is Progressing—But to the Detriment of Black Trans People

This piece is part of Well + Good’s Healthy Mind vertical 

“We’ve come a long way as trans actors,” claimed one of my fellow panelists during an LGBTQ+ actors’ workshop I was a part of. She wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t the full picture.

“There is a gap, though,” I added. Yes, the portrayals of trans people on screen have improved from 20 years ago, when I watched the commodification of black trans women on TV shows like Maury and The Jerry Springer Show. But if “progress” is trans actors portraying trans characters on Sense8, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, and Euphoria, then it seems to have come at the cost of Blackness.

I was a senior in college, and serving my second year as the theater club’s president, when screenwriter, director, and producer Ryan Murphy announced the cast of his show Pose would include trans femmes of color: MJ Rodriguez, Angelica Ross, Dominique Jackson, Indya Moore, and Hailie Sahar—all of whom are Black. As an Asian actress, I envied the actors and thought, Why not me?—which speaks to the collective misinterpretation of equity as a shortage of opportunities. My jealousy was greedy and unjust, insensitive to the pre-existing boxes and limitations of acting jobs for Black trans people.

Unprecedented casting aside, Pose still centered its characters’ stories at the intersection of being trans and Black. It wasn’t portrayals of gendered “trickery,” as it had been on Maury and The Jerry Springer Show, but the storytelling was still focused Black trans women’s pain.

Meanwhile, white actors are granted opportunities to tell stories that go beyond their gender. In Sense8, Naomi, played by Jamie Clayton, is a hacker in a fiercely committed interracial relationship with another woman. Although Naomi’s transness is acknowledged and honored, it is not the center of her story. In The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, trans masculine and non-binary character Theo, portrayed by Lachlan Watson, has a brief scene of coming out to his friends, who effortlessly begin to use the pronouns “he/him”,” and it’s barely a plotline; he continues to be part of a larger story about Sabrina, a teenager caught in between her witch life and her mortal life. Both Naomi and Theo are white.

And in Euphoria, Hunter Schafer plays Jules, a high school student whose story acknowledges her transness intentionally, as a way of combating the possibility that others might dismiss her transness because of her privileges. During an interview with BUILD Series, Schafer herself acknowledged: “It doesn’t go without saying that I’m white, I’m skinny, and I pass.”

So, what does it mean to say things are better now for trans actors? It means disregarding the fact that white trans stories have profited from Black trans women’s struggle to be seen. It’s a false privilege to say “look how far we’ve come,” when “we” does not include Blackness and Black trans women still strive for the same nuanced progress in TV and film.

“The privilege of being a white trans character is that only the trans aspect needs addressing,” says James Robinson, LCSW, a Black and white biracial therapist in New York City who practices psychotherapy with artists, largely of color. He indicates, on the other hand, how the acknowledgment of race is a tightrope balance in itself. “It’s hard to portray Black characters in general; if they aren’t portrayed in experiencing trauma, then the audience might resist and the story might receive backlash because of a denial to that character,” says Robinson. “And if you do acknowledge their trauma, then in some ways the character becomes a monolith.”

As an Asian trans woman, I fall outside of the white trans representation, but as an actor, I have been able to benefit from the work of the Black trans women who showed themselves on screen before me. I felt this firsthand when Black trans women were in the audition room for a short film lead role that eventually chose to cast me. I’ve even been complicit in the ignorant celebration of white trans actors making their way in the industry as just “trans actors” and not “white trans actors.”

Psychologist Justin Hopkins, PsyD, who specializes in trauma-informed care for individuals whose identities are on the margins, says the issue is complex. “No trauma ever begets or justifies another trauma. There are simply varying degrees of pain that yearn and demand the fullness in which they are experienced,” he explains. “As white trans people recognize their desires to be visible, it is still harder for their black trans counterparts to have what [they themselves] thirst for.”

And the art of acting in itself plays a role in people’s personal hunger to be seen. “People pursue any types of jobs and passions in which they feel driven from a soul level,” Dr. Hopkins explains. “If you are someone who spent your life being invisible or having aspects of your core identity denied, it can feel incredibly rewarding, although demanding, to have a vocation where you are seen, praised, and affirmed under the bright lights. There is something satisfying and gratifying to the ego—perhaps necessarily so.”

It is no coincidence trans actors feel driven about their career; it is cathartic to deliver a performance and feel recognized in return, especially when celebrated in masses. However, that is no excuse for letting the trajectory of on-screen success irresponsibly move in a direction that leaves Black actors behind.

So, I want to ask trans actors who are not Black: What’s in it for you? Can you fight just as long and just as fiercely as you are now if you get nothing out of this? Can you agree you have been benefiting from the path Black actors paved?

This is not to say trans representation on-screen isn’t improving. It is crucial for non-Black trans actors to acknowledge the racial gaps in the progress. To fight for our Black trans kin and expect nothing in return. To acknowledge what it has taken to get to where we are in the industry. And, at the very least, to responsibly pay forward what is owed.

[sakuatsutingz]

Sorry for being specific but Can I request Atsumu and Kageyama with a fem!crush who is the top female highschool volleyball player and is the only female invited to the National youth training camp and basically they were paired together for training or something? Thank youuuuuu 💞

hand in marriage anon ?? also the trainings mentioned below were from my own experience in vb training camp !! enjoy bbies <3 aLSO ATSUMUS PART GOT SELF INDULGENT SORRY YALL - jamie

atsumu & kageyama with a crush who was invited to the youth training camp

masterlist here request or talk to us here

atsumu

before we start can we appreciate the photo of tsumu like bc THATS MY MAN -jamie

you were a second year volleyball player in itachiyamas girl vbc

and it just so happened you were the top highschool female ace and server in all of japan !!

but atsumu’s never heard of u because he was too focused on his own competitors

and so when you walked through the doors of the gym, he was confused

everyone was confused

why is a female here ?? in a training outfit ?? 

answer was the female’s youth training camp was canceled due to the lack of eligible female players

and it just so happened you were the only one eligible for a youth training camp so you were redirected to the male’s youth camp

and thus u were the only female invited to the camp

searches how to be a y/n ...

let’s just say you were friends with sakusa and komori and they were the only ones in the camp informed of you being a part of it

and when you entered komori jogged up to you with a wave and greets u !! <3

“hello everyone !! im l/n y/n, i look forward to training with you all !!” “wAHH A GIRL IS WITH US ??” “WE GOTTA IMPRESS HER GUYS HOLD UP”

when atsumu saw u something inside him just felt good ??

like why does he suddenly feel like the world got just a bit brighter whenever he sees you

inwardly panics in jealousy when he sees u with sakusa and komori during lunch

he assumes you must be rlly good in vball because how else would one girl out of all be invited to a national camp meant for boys ??

the first time you guys talked was basically in a practice match

you were the temporary captain of your team and he was the temporary captain of the other team

before the match started you both shook hands like the good captains u both are lowkey wheezing abt how that was a fat lie

“let’s have a good match now, miya !” “u-uh, yeah- same for yer’ team.”

he wasnt his usually flirty self around you BYEHAHHABDBF

he was trying his hardest to actually look smooth and talk to you 

but he fails 99% of the time and his crush for you just grows even more

but on the last day of training, the serving practices basically required a partner on the opposite side of the net

your mental list of desired partners slowly narrowed as they all got their own parters, leaving atsumu for you to ask

when you went up to him with a smile he short circuited

pls help him he’s malfunctioning

“oi, miya, do you wanna be my partner ?” “yeah, yeah.”

DONT BE FOOLED BY HIS OUTER SELF HES LITERALLY DYING INSIDE

as the practices started he didn’t know what this boy has gotten himself into

atsumu is the top male highschool server

and he just so didn’t know his own partner was also the top female highschool server so it turned into a competition REAL QUICK

god damn this boy needs to read the volleyball magazines more ..

“hA YOU WERENT ABLE TO RECEIVE THAT BEAT THAT LOSER” “iTS JUST A FLUKE ILL BEAT’CHA JUST YA WAIT”

you guys turned into best friends real quick bye

sorry not sorry komori

after a long day, you were already in the bus station abt to go home

it was basically atsumu’s last chance to actually talk to you before he has only luck to see you again

so he went up to you in the bus stop like the smooth boy he is

spoiler, he wasnt. he looked real awkward tryna sit next to you

you were just scrolling on your phone until he asked u out which made u choke on AIR

like dude r u fr ??

“so um, y/n.” “yeah ?” “go out with me.”

he’s literally a blushing mess good bye

you smile bc u were literally hoping he would ask u out before u went home

you kiss him on the cheek and say yes <33

HOW TO GET AN ATSUMU MIYA IN YOUR LIFE ??????? THIS IS FUCKINMG UNFAIR

a bonus “why do you have l/n as your phone wallpaper, ‘tsumu ??” “SHUT UP ‘SAMU”

kageyama

okay so youre a first year and still the top ace and server in highschool ykyk

but this time you were on shiratorizawa’s girl vbc !!

you got invited to the camp cause they needed another person for an even number but couldn't find a male

so you got invited

kageyama would probably know who you are already

he’s been to one of your games in the nationals and that’s where his crush started <33

like he seemed to pay much more attention when it was your turn to serve !!

he wasn’t exactly oblivious about his own crush on you but he is definitely confused on why does he look at you like you’re the only player on court

it was kinda obvious so when hinata pointed it out to him it just clicked

oh shit ,, he does have a crush on y/n l/n

literally panics on what to do with it but honestly he doesn’t see you much unless you guys are on the same court

which is exactly what happened in the national youth training camp because you guys are ON THE SAME COURT

he got really flustered about it, thinking that he was to spend the next few days with you

when you get partnered together he got very quiet at first

ya'll got partnered because kageyama didn't want to ask anyone so the coaches put you together

"why did it have to be her?" "she's going to find out ,,"

very shy around you at first

but eventually once you two get comfy he becomes more like his usual self

he's a lot more caring and observant when it comes to you

i mean a lot

he would offer you to join his table during lunch

your both very good servers, so you help each other practice serves

you would need to be the one to ask him out

probably would be second to last day of camp or the last day

"hey kags? would you wanna meet up after the camp ends? like a date or something."

boy would malfunction right then and there

it would take him a moment, but would eventually accept <33

doesnt talk about it when he gets back to karasuno

but the others on the team can just s e e somethings different

he seemed happier and more motivated then usual

we all know hinatas gonna spill about his crush on u tho just saying

cause u both made a promise to see each other at nationals finals !!

and he wanted to keep that promise <33

a bonus “kageyama-kun, was that l/n from shiratorizawa you were talking to ?” “wAIT WHAT I DONT KNOW HER UM” “but you even hugged her ..”

[julemmaes]

A Court Of Thorns And Roses Masterlist

julemmaes masterpost

icon key

smut:🔥 | fluff:💖 | angst:🔪 | hurt-comfort:💔 | mcd:💀 | on hiatus:⚠️

Nessian

You fucking tease [1], Just a little more [2] - 💖🔥

modern au

nesta gets a promotion and cassian thinks she deserves a prize

Love her like she should be loved [1], Got your back [2], You’re not alone [3] - 💔💖

modern au, secret relationship

the inner circle can't seem to stop talking shit about nesta and cassian is a hair close to losing his mind

Pinky promise masterlist - see each chapter ⚠️

The seven of us masterlist - see each part

We have to - 🔪💀

one-shot, modern au; next gen fic

it's nesta's birthday and celebrating it has never been so painful

Drivers license [1], Honeybee [2] - 🔪💔💖

modern au; song inspired fic

Let me in - 💔💖

one-shot, modern au; best friends

nesta isn't having a good day. that's when cassian comes to the rescue

Jealousy - light-🔪💔💖

one-shot, modern au; football au

the boys win the football final game and nesta only wants to celebrate with her boyfriend, but a little someone blocks her

Third and fourth wheeling [1], Our first non-date [2] - 💖

modern au; strangers to friends to lovers

cassian is desperately in love with nesta. nesta doesn't understand how someone you barely know can be in love with you. cassian's job is to made her realize they could be more

Taking care of her - 🔪💔💖

one-shot, in canon universe; period fic

cassian feels something down the bond and goes batshit crazy thinking nesta is dying

Stand by you - 💔💖

one-shot, modern au; pregnancy fic

nesta and cassian are going through a rough period and they harsh it out in her office

Wanna have fun - 🔥💖

one-shot, in canon universe: sex toys

nesta and cassian finally went to the peculiar shop downtown all their friends can't stop talking about

The NugNug Man - 💖

modern au; single mom nesta

dating when having a 4yo daughter can be hard sometimes, but cassian will make everything look easier

Hold you - 💔🔪

one-shot, modern au; check tw

nesta deals with depression

So much - 💖

one-shot, modern au; domestic fluff

cassian and nesta cuddles and dance

Soulmates - 💖

one-shot, modern au; sjmromance week

nesta and cassian have weird traditions

Nessian Week 2022 - see each part

Jamie - part one, part two, part three

modern au; pregnancy fic

just nesta and cassian going through yet another angsty birth cause I'm a bitch

Kill me a thousand times - 🔪💀

coming soon!

short story

Feysand

My everything - 💔💖

one-shot, modern au; feysand's daughter

it's been a rough day for rhys and all he wants to do is spend time with his two girls

Dada - 💔💖

one-shot, modern au; nyx

feyre and rhys have tried everything to make their little boy talk, now they can only wish for a christmas miracle

Gwynriel

Singer of my heart masterlist - see each part

Elucien

Little bird - 💖

one-shot, in canon universe; established relationship

just a normal fluffy day

Vamren

What do you think? - 💖

one-shot, modern au

amren is having trouble building their IKEA furniture

[let-the-dream-begin]

A Family of Our Own: Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Read on AO3

The dining room was loud and boisterous as it always was before supper. Jenny bustled in with dish after dish, Claire and Maggie trailing behind with more. Mary MacNab was feeding wee Ian in the nursery to keep the meal somewhat formal given that they had a guest. The men had just finished washing up from the day, and Jamie was upstairs fetching John from his room. After the tour of the grounds, Jamie got back to work, and John got himself settled in his room.

As Claire sat herself down, Jamie returned, John right behind him. All conversation immediately ceased. Even Kitty, little devil though she was, had the sense to be scared. Claire watched as John surveyed the six sets of wide, little eyes gaping at him, and the narrowed, piercing gaze of Jenny. Jamie either didn’t notice or chose to ignore the awkward silence, and he pulled out a chair, indicating John to sit right beside him. Claire chided herself for the ridiculous pang of jealousy that struck her sternum. Brianna always sat between her and Jamie. But there was nothing between him and John.

“This looks splendid,” John said lightly, smiling warmly at Jenny. “My compliments to the Mistress of the house.”

“Mhm.” Jenny nodded curtly, reaching to fill Michael and Janet’s plates without even looking up at John.

Claire’s face flamed with secondhand embarrassment, and she noticed that John was no less affected.

“Lord John is very good at chess, I hear,” Claire said rather stupidly. “Quite a formidable opponent for you, Ian.”

Ian had the decency to look up from his food and smile and nod genially, but he said nothing.

“And what does that make me?” Jamie said, joking.

“You don’t recall all the times you lost?” John side-eyed him, smirking, and Jamie scoffed, gesturing flippantly with his fork.

“Ye played chess in prison, then?” Jenny cut in sharply, finally looking directly at John with no mercy in her cold eyes.

“Aye,” Jamie did not seem at all perturbed, even though Claire suddenly had little to no appetite. “I was a conduit of sorts, for John to learn and understand the prisoners’ needs. I spoke for them over meals and games of chess.”

Claire did not miss how Jenny visibly cringed at Jamie referring to John so informally.

“He was an excellent advocate,” John cut in. “He cares very much about his people. He was born to be a leader.”

“Shame he canna be one,” Jenny snapped, putting more potatoes on Kitty’s plate. “Seeing as he canna own his own family land.”

John swallowed thickly. “That…yes, that is quite a shame. If there was something to be done about it—”

“Ye’ve done enough, man,” Ian said, and despite his discomfort, Claire could tell he meant it. “And we thank ye.”

“God forbid he lose his position serving the Crown,” Jenny said with no hidden ire. Maggie looked like she was about to burst into tears out of sheer discomfort, her food completely untouched. Young Jamie’s ears and nose were bright red with anger, apparently old enough now to understand. Kitty and Brianna kept looking at each other and then back at the adults.

“Janet,” Jamie snapped. “Enough.”

“Forgive me,” she said without any hint of an actual apology in her tone. “Shall we continue discussing yer fine meals together in prison?”

“Jenny…” Claire tried, but her quiet attempt at calm was completely talked over.

“It looked just like this, I suppose. You sitting there all high and mighty in yer fine red coat.”

“Janet—”

“And you,” she interrupted Jamie, pointing fiercely at him, “sitting there wi’ him like his coat isna stained wi’ the blood of yer people!”

“Ma, please stop…” Maggie blubbered helplessly.

“Like ye’re equals!” Jenny went on. “Like right now. Sitting there in yer redcoat like ye own the lot of us.”

“Madame, I assure you…”

“Dinna even have the decency to wear something else in the presence of these children who’ve seen nothing but terror from the likes of it!”

“I…I don’t have…”

“Mummy…” Brianna tugged on Claire’s sleeve, and before she could open her mouth to comfort her, Jenny stood.

“Children, out. Take yer plates to the nursery. All of ye. Now.”

She hastily dumped more meat and potatoes on all of their plates as they shuffled out, dumbstruck with fear, Maggie’s sniffling echoing down the halls until their footsteps disappeared up the stairs.

Jamie stood the second the children were out of earshot, and Claire shot to her feet to contain his rage.

“Ye’re out of line, sister,” Jamie said through clenched teeth.

“Oh, I am?” she roared, puffing her chest out with her hands on her hips. “Ye must be bloody mad! Bringing him in to dine like he’s one of us! With my children!”

“He’s a friend!”

“But not one of us!” she spat, her face reddening. “And I canna believe ye…ye dined wi’ him in chains…” Her eyes watered. 

“I was never chained, Jenny.”

“That’s no’ the point!” She angrily swiped at her tears. “Ye let him…use ye…”

Claire’s chest tightened.

“And he’s got ye still like a dog on a lead! It’s plain as the nose on my face watching ye talk wi’ him!”

“What the devil are ye implying?” Jamie’s voice lowered dangerously.

“I may no’ have been farther than Broch Mordha in all my life, but I’m no’ daft.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Ye bloody told us he’s fond of ye. I bloody ken what that means.”

“Jenny, come on now…” Ian heaved himself to his feet and touched her shoulder.

Claire glanced down at John, and he looked like he was contemplating drowning himself in his soup. Jamie was vibrating beside her, and she put a gentle, calming hand on his forearm.

“I just…” Jenny gasped in a hiccup of tears, her hand flying to her chest. “I didna ken that ye…that you…” She swallowed thickly, gathering her resolve. “Ye didna say you were fond of him.”

In the time it took Claire to blink, something shattered, food splattered all over, and Jamie was leaning across the table, his nose inches away from Jenny’s.

“I’m. Not. Fond. Of anything.”

Claire took a trembling breath, watching Jamie growl in Jenny’s face, Jenny still as stone, not backing down. She took her eye off them for a split second, long enough to see two tears trail down John’s cheeks.

“Dinna lie to me, brother,” Jenny said calmly. “I dinna ken what he did to ye, and I dinna want to know. I just want this madness to stop.”

Jamie heaved, his entire body convulsing with each breath. Claire dare not take a step or move an inch.

“Bringing a redcoat into my home is bad enough,” she went on. “But bringing in a redcoat that’s…someone like him…in front of the children…” Her voice broke again. “How could ye do it, brother…? How could ye let a sodomite—”

A sharp crack filled the air, and Claire felt all the air rush out of her. Jenny recoiled with a stifled cry, holding her cheek. A terrible, painful silence followed, and Jamie straightened up, as if realizing what he’d done. Claire looked at Ian, and she wanted to weep. She had never seen him filled with such anger.

“I’m no’ an impulsive man, Jamie,” Ian said unevenly. “But if ye dinna quit my sight this instant, I’ll pound yer bloody face in fer what ye’ve just done.”

Without a word, Jamie was gone, and the blood rushing in Claire’s ears was too loud for her to hear where he’d gone to. A chair scraped to her left, then a flash of red zipped by; John disappeared.

Not knowing what else to do, Claire sprang into medical action, striding around the table to examine Jenny’s face.

“I’m fine,” she pushed Claire’s hands away. “Nothing more than a bit of stinging. He’d never hit me hard enough to leave a mark.”

“Well he still shouldn't have done that,” Claire said, her voice more thick with emotion than she’d realized it would be. “You’re not children. He’s a grown man with the strength of three grown men. He should not be laying hands on anybody half his size.”

“No,” Ian growled. “He shouldna.”

“D’ye think me mad, sister?” Jenny said desperately, grasping Claire by the shoulders. “Or d’ye see it? Ye must ken what I mean! Ye’re his wife! Has he told ye?”

Claire gently pried Jenny’s fingers off her and laced them with hers. “I don’t think you’re mad. But I do think there’s something you’re missing. And I...I don’t think you should have spoken to Jamie that way. Nor should you have spoken about John like that right in front of him.”

Jenny blinked dumbly. “D’ye no’—”

“Yes, I do,” Claire said sharply. “Jamie told me that John is in love with him.”

“In love?”

“Yes.”

“That’s impossible!”

“No, it isn’t.” Claire’s face heated with anger. “And John never hurt Jamie. Never.”

“But what if it didna...what if it wasna...unpleasant for him? That’s what I’m trying to tell ye!”

“No,” Claire said quickly, too quickly. “Jamie wouldn’t...he said he didn’t. John told me they didn’t. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

“D’ye think they’d confess to such a sin?”

“It’s not a sin.”

“I ken yer time is different sister, but—”

“This has nothing to do with time,” Claire said resolutely. “John is a human being and he can’t help the way he feels. And you have no right to make him feel horrid for who he is.”

Jenny let go of Claire’s hands and crossed her arms, embarrassed. “I don’t...I dinna understand.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Claire said gently, crossing her own arms. “I admit I don’t really understand it either. But it’s none of my business.”

“It is yer business if he’s rogering yer husband.”

Claire recoiled as if she was hit in the face, blinking in shock.

“If you don’t take that back this instant, I’ll slap you myself.”

Jenny flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, sister. I’m sorry.”

Claire sighed impatiently. “I’ll go talk to Jamie. After you’ve both cooled down, you will apologize. For insulting his friend, and him.”

“But—”

“And if Jamie has been unfaithful,” Claire gathered her skirts and walked away, stopping in the doorway, “I will deal with him in my own way.”

——

After several minutes of searching, Claire found Jamie in the stables, his forehead pressed to the snout of his horse as he whispered in Gaelic, stroking his muzzle. He seemed to have calmed considerably, for which Claire had the horses to thank. They always had a soothing effect on him, even as far back as when she’d first met him.

“Has Jenny convinced ye I’m a filthy pervert, then?”

Claire recoiled a bit, but pressed on, taking a few more steps into the stable. “No.”

“I’m sorry if I frightened ye,” Jamie said sadly. “But I’m no’ sorry I hit her.”

“I don’t blame you,” Claire admitted. “She was behaving abhorrently.”

“I hear what ye’re no’ saying, Sassenach,” Jamie said, still not looking at her. “Ye condemn Jenny, but ye still want to ask me if she’s right.”

Claire straightened her spine, embarrassed she’d been found out so easily.

“Well, wouldn’t you?” Claire tried, taking another step forward. “If a man showed up on our threshold and started acting so...familiar with me, and went on about all the evenings we spent together...wouldn’t you wonder?”

“Aye. I would.” He finally released the horse and turned around, flicking a piece of hay away impatiently. “But ye thought I was dead. I’d no’ shame ye for remarrying, or trying to. I kent ye lived and maybe waited for me. Why would I betray ye? Why would ye think it? And wi’...wi’ a bloody s—”

“Don’t say it.” Claire put a hand up. “I’ve heard that word quite enough for one lifetime, now.”

“Is that no’ what he is?”

“He’s a man, first and foremost. And your friend, secondly.”

“Aye. But I dinna have to agree wi’ how he lives his life.”

“But you don’t have to treat him so awfully for it, either,” Claire said firmly. “He can’t help how he feels about you. I admit I didn’t realize how...strongly he felt until he showed up today. I was...frightened by it, truthfully.”

“What frightened ye, Sassenach?”

“I...I don’t know…” Claire shook her head. “When I saw that it went beyond...lust...I thought...I was afraid that…”

“I dinna love him,” Jamie growled, his body tightening.

“I didn’t say you did,” Claire said, her voice quiet with awed horror. “You said that.”

He stepped back, running an impatient hand through his hair. “I don’t.”

Claire crossed her arms over her chest. “John told me nothing...happened.”

“It didn’t.”

Claire almost jumped at his vehemence.

“And if anything would ha’ happened, it woulda been my choice. My own free will. As ye well know.”

Claire blinked a few times, unable to reconcile with the unfamiliar rage roiling in her gut. “You’d...let him do that…hurt you...but you don’t love him.”

“He wouldna hurt me!” Jamie said furiously. “Why are ye so determined to make him a monster?”

“Why are you so determined to defend him?” Claire shot right back. “You say it as if you’d...want him to!”

“Want him to what, Claire?” Jamie took a dangerous step forward, hovering over him.

“You know bloody well what!”

Jamie roughly seized her upper arm, yanking her close. “Say it, Claire. I want ye to look me in the eye and tell me what it is ye think I want.”

“You want to know what I think?”

“Aye! I do!” He shook her a bit.

“I want to know if you actually let him fuck you to buy your freedom! And if you fucking wanted him to! And enjoyed it!”

He released her suddenly with a great shove, and with a mighty roar, he punched his fist into the door of an empty stall behind him, spooking all of the horses. Claire gasped, stumbling back and falling onto her rear. She knew to her deepest core that he could have hit her with that force. He threw her away to protect her from the rage she’d stirred in him.

But, God help her, she still wasn’t done.

“I don’t bloody care who it is! I care if it happened or not!” She stayed on the ground, crying up to him like a pathetic child. “And I care that you might not think it...counts because he’s a man! And God, Jamie! It does!”

“Of course it counts!” he shouted. “It would! If it’d happened! Why, why would I lie to you?” “Because you’re ashamed! I can see it all over your face!” She pointed accusingly, openly weeping at him. “If it were a woman you’d be on your knees begging my forgiveness, but because it’s a man, you’re ashamed!”

That gave him pause, and Claire thought she’d gotten through to him, thought he was about to make a confession. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“Aye. I am ashamed.”

Claire let out a tiny sob, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. It was her doing, wrenching it out of him like this; it was what she’d wanted. And yet she wished she could undo it all, live in blissful ignorance forever. She couldn’t bear to hear him say it, and yet she had to.

“I’m ashamed because I’m afraid.”

This gave her pause. She blinked, picking her head up off her knees. “Afraid…?”

“I’m afraid of what would have happened if he’d agreed to it.”

And all at once, Claire wanted to die with shame, because she knew with all her heart that he was telling the truth.

“I’m afraid I would have...enjoyed it. As ye said.” He took a stuttering breath, more tears littering his cheeks. “There was a...a thrill that ran through me when I asked him. And it scared me senseless. And I ken. I ken that...that Randall put that in me. I ken.”

“Jamie…” Claire practically squeaked. She unfurled from herself and got on her knees. “Jamie...come here. Come here, love…”

He obeyed, dropping to his knees like dead weight, and Claire gathered him in her arms until his head was in her lap, hands fisting her skirts.

“That man put nothing in you. Nothing. He owns no part of you and you own no part of him.”

He shook his head, and she stroked his hair, hushing him.

“If you...if you’d enjoy being with a man...a man who cares about you...loves you, even...it’s not the same thing. It’s not.”

She listened to his quiet sniffling and bit down her own tears, working to steady her voice.

“That’s not...how that works,” she struggled to find the words. “I don’t know much about John, but he’s not...the way he is because somebody hurt him. People don’t just...become that way. He was born that way. And if...if you…”

“No. I’m no’ like him.”

“Not like John? Or not like Randall?”

“John is a good man.”

“I know,” she soothed. “I know.”

“I ken he’s a good man...and yet I...I canna…” he took a deep breath. “Ye remember I told ye I beat a man senseless fer implying John and I were...buggering.”

“I remember.”

“It wasna to defend John’s honor. No’ really. And he knew it. I think he knows...something. I never told him, and I never will. But he could tell.”

“So why did you beat him then?” Claire knew the answer, but she needed to hear Jamie say it.

“Because I couldna stand anyone thinking I was that way. It made be blind wi’ rage.”

Claire nodded, stroking his cheek with her knuckles. “I know.”

“I...my mind knows that John is good...but my body...recoils to think of what he is.”

“To...think of what you might be?”

It was risky. He could kill her in one fell swoop.

Instead, he tightened his grip around her waist and buried his face further into her.

“I don’t care, Jamie. I don’t. I don’t know how to help you accept that part of yourself, but just know that it makes no difference to me.”

Claire swallowed. “I’m sorry I was so horrid. I said exactly what I knew would get you the most upset. And I know why it gets you upset. And it was so, terribly wrong of me.”

She felt a fervent kiss to her abdomen, and she clung to his hair.

“I think I...as much as I respect and admire him...I just as equally resent him. And it’s awful because you were in prison, for Christ’s sake...but I…” Her voice caught in her throat. “I know I’ve said it enough times, but you were dead. I was so lost without you. We all were. We were harassed and starved and beaten, and we lost and feared…” She shook her head. “And for those eight years, he had you. You were at his beck and call to dine with and...play chess...all the while I thought you were rotting on Culloden Moor.”

Jamie sat up, looking into her eyes with enough remorse to crumble the strongest resolve.

“I’m your wife. I’m your fucking wife,” she said, teeth clenched. “I was your wife those entire eight years that he had you pretend I didn’t exist; you didn’t even know your daughter existed. I cried into my fucking potatoes every night for years beacuse you weren’t at supper and all he had to do was look up and see you right there. And the thought of it makes me…” She must have been trembling, because he put steadying hands on her shoulders. “I can’t bear to think of it.”

Jamie tenderly kissed her forehead.

“And to think of him having just that one bit more of you...the only thing that I’d have to claim over him…” She shrugged uselessly, feeling like a petulant toddler fighting for rights to a toy. “To think of you giving yourself to him the way you give yourself to me while I couldn’t even bring myself to touch myself for eight years…”

“But I didn’t, Claire,” he said vehemently. “I didn’t.”

She nodded, pursing her lips. “I know,” she croaked. “I know.”

He captured her lips gently, almost hesitantly, and she reciprocated in kind, fingers trembling on his cheeks.

“D’ye doubt that I love you?”

“No,” Claire answered without hesitation. “Not for a single second.”

Jamie nodded, sighing in relief. “I was afraid...once ye knew the darkest parts of me...ye’d think I couldna…”

Claire shook her head, kissing him lightly again. “It doesn’t make you dark. Or incapable of love.”

“Or incapable of loving that ye’re a woman…?”

Claire shook her head again. “You tell me, Jamie. Do you still love these…?” She took his hands and guided them to her breasts, delighting in the stutter of his breath. He nodded reverently. She guided his hands under her skirts. “How about this?”

He groaned, and a chill ran down her spine.

“Aye, lass. God, I do…”

She straddled him, kissing him more deeply, grinding down into his hand. “Then nothing else matters.”

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 9 ~The Mediation~

Previously in Light Vs Dark ...

Tears streamed down her face as he grabbed his phone and keys and made his way out. He couldn't get out of the cottage fast enough. His heart hammered, his ears started to ring, his lungs squeezing out the last air. He'd hurt her. He'd seen the bruises with his eyes, and now she's crying because of him. He needed to get out fast to clear his head.

She followed him closely behind. "Please tell me where you're going, Jamie. At least give me that," she pleaded.

He couldn't stand to see her tears anymore or hear the plea in her voice. He was doing what's right for her because he loved her too much. He wasn't even sure where he was going or if anyone would be safe in his presence. All he could think of was how frightened his sister had looked at him and the bruises he'd inflicted in Claire's arms. He needed to get as far away as possible, away from the people he loved.

He got into his car, slammed the door, and started the engine.

Claire banged on his window, her face wet with tears. "Don't do this, Jamie. We can fix this together. Please don't go. I'm begging you."

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

The sun blazed through the windows, but instead of feeling delighted with the promise of a beautiful day, Claire felt hollow.

Earlier, moving on autopilot, she'd numbly climbed out of bed, showered and gathered all the will and strength she could summon and prepared to face the day. Though a part of her would rather curl into a ball under the duvet until Jamie returns, she made a Herculean effort to stay positive for sanity's sake. It should have given her comfort knowing Jamie was safe after Willie had informed her he'd been spotted at three in the morning at Lallybroch's driveway in his car and was now resting in his childhood home. But her eyes would prickle with tears every time she stood still and stared into space. So Claire kept herself busy, feeding Jamie's pets, letting them out of the house, doing a bit of laundry and setting up her work station for the day on the dining table. Currently, there were things that needed attending to, like her own work, and anytime soon, Willie would be arriving.

She was just about to open her laptop when there was a knock on the kitchen's back door.

She knew it was Willie. "Door's open," she croaked.

Willie walked in and stopped. A line formed between his brows, reminding her so much of Jamie she felt the beginning of tears welling up. "Hey, how are ye?" he asked.

With more enthusiasm than she had in her, she gave him a small smile. "I'm hanging in there. How's Jamie?"

"He's asleep ...last time I heard from ma."

"How about you? You look like you didn't get much rest either."

"Knackered," he replied, shoving his hands into his jeans' pocket. "The bloody git sent us on a merry chase. And now he gets to sleep the whole day while I'm left to pick up the slack at work."

Claire knew Willie was trying to make light of things. Needing to move, she stood and made her way to the kitchen, having the sudden urge to keep her hands busy. It would have been easier if she'd asked Willie to take her to Lallybroch. But there had been a reason for her decision to stay put. She needed to remind herself, there's a probability her presence could make Jamie's condition worsened after having seen his reaction to her bruise last night. Even if in the light of day, nothing seemed good enough excuse to be separated from him.

"Would you like something to drink? Coffee or tea?" she offered. "I could use a strong cuppa."

"Coffee would be grand."

Conscious of Willie watching, she went through the motion of taking out cups and switching on the coffee machine. When she opened the fridge to retrieve some milk, she accidentally nudged one of Jamie's magnets on the door, sending a post-it note to slip down. Automatically bending down, she picked up the piece of paper from the floor.

As she turned it the other way round and read it, a cross between a sob and a laugh broke passed through her mouth. It was a note Jamie had written to her just the other day.

Gone to work. Bought some croissants, and they're in the bread bin just in case Adso gets his grubby paws on it first. Can't wait to see you later. Missing you already. Love you. X

"Oh, damn it." Claire leaned over the countertop, pressing the note with one hand on her chest. "I-I can't do this."

Willie came up behind her and touched her elbow, gently turning her to face him. "Ye cannae do exactly what, Claire?" he asked, a look of concern etching his face.

"Pretend Jamie is fine." She squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them again, she let out a lungful of air. "When we first met, he was in a good place. And I have this strong feeling that I am making his condition more frequent and worse."

"No, Claire ...dinnae speak like that."

She glanced down at Jamie's note, and when she felt prickles behind her eyelids, she slipped the piece of paper in her jean's pocket and shook her head. "How can Jamie and I be together if I'm the one triggering his nightmares and anxiety? Before I came along, his episodes were a rare occurrence. And now here I am making that classic mistake of attempting to fix a man." Her breathing suddenly became laboured, like she'd raced ten miles. "I wish I could be by his side. I know it's selfish wanting to be with him right now when I'm the reason for his distress. But I do. On the other hand, logic tells me, it's probably a good thing all those memories he hasn't dealt with are finally coming to the surface, so at least we have something to work on. I just wish there was a less unpleasant way for Jamie to handle all of these." She glanced out the window, unseeing the beautiful view in the sun.

When the silence dragged on for too long, Claire turned to face Willie and was surprised to see him smiling. "Cannae ye see it yet, Claire? Ye are not making Jamie's condition worse. In fact, ye have been helping him heal all this time."

She frowned. She was confused. "What do you mean? I don't understand."

Willie took the portafilter and began filling it with coffee for her. "Ye said it yersel'. The suppressed memories are coming to the surface." He shrugged as he worked the coffee machine. "Meaning, after all these years, Jamie can finally confront them head-on, deal with it and lay it to rest once and for all. Isn't that what his dreams are trying to tell him? He's forgone dealing with grief and issues that it had nowhere to go to except present itself as this monstrous nightmare and panic attacks. And then ye came along, and somehow, ye've extracted more out from him than all his therapists put together."

A nervous laugh gurgled from her throat. "I might have been able to do that, but at what cost? Jamie could've hurt himself last night." She'd worried at the speed he'd taken off, thinking if anything grievous had resulted from it, she would have been so utterly devastated, she'd blamed herself. "He needs professional help, Willie. It can't go on like this."

"He does," he agreed, pressing the button on the coffee machine. "But Jamie needs you too, more than ever ...even if he believes he's a danger to ye."

"But he didn't hurt me."

He pushed the stop button on the coffee machine. "May I see the bruise?"

"Of course." She rolled up her sweatshirt sleeves. "I told him I bruise easily. I have an iron deficiency which I'm taking supplements for."

Willie studied the markings on her arms. "They're not that bad."

"No, they're not. I tried to convince him, but he won't listen. I only need to pinch my skin, and I bruise. It's a symptom of being anaemic."

Willie sighed. "Jamie won't be easily convinced, though. Weel ...at least not until he's calmed down."

"He used to have a therapist. Why isn't he seeing one now?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. "I know he's against taking pills for his condition, but surely talking to a professional would help him a lot."

"He has nothing against seeing a therapist ..." he replied matter-of-factly as he handed her the coffee. "...just a particular one."

"Oh!" She took the cup from Willie and watched him make another one for himself. "May I know why?"

"Her name is Geneva Dunsany. She's the only available therapist in Broch Mordha. She took over Jamie's former therapist after he left for England." He paused to look at her. "Ye see ...a few years back, my da remortgage Lallybroch and then when the recession came, our family was hit hard financially and had trouble paying the bank. To cut a long story short, Jenny, our meddling sister, knew Geneva was infatuated with Jamie. Since Geneva comes from a well-off family, Jenny thought by playing matchmaker, she would solve everyone's problems single-handedly. Ever since then, my sister has been trying to get them together. So when she heard Jamie's therapist left for England, she encouraged Geneva to take the job even though she already had one in another town. Jamie is quite perceptive, though and knew what our wee sister was up to. Hence he refused to see Geneva."

"That's a bit sneaky."

"Ye can say that again. Geneva might have a wee crush on Jamie, but I dinnae think she's aware of Jenny's meddling, even though they're friends. Jenny thinks she's doing Jamie a favour by finding him a lass who lives here and can help him with his condition. Jen is practical like that."

"I've met her, actually. The therapist that is. We were introduced ...just before I went back to London," she explained, thinking back to the day when she first met Jenny and Geneva. And she's beautiful too, she thought grudgingly. Although Jamie had never given Claire reason to feel jealous before, every muscle in her body had gone rigid, hearing Willie's account on Jamie's would-be therapist. Jealousy continued to roll in like a lick of a flame as the image of Jamie pouring his heart out to a beautiful woman burned hot in her guts. The sudden urgent need to see him made her want to sprint out of the cottage at full speed, but a dose of decorum kept her rooted on the spot. "So, Jamie wasn't interested, huh? Not even the teeny, tiniest bit?" she squeaked, annoyed at the sudden change in her voice.

She thought she saw a muscle twitched along Willie's jaw, but she must have imagined it. Looking like he was sucking the inside of his cheek, he shook his head. "No. Never. And ye have nought to worry about, Claire. Jamie only has eyes for ye."

She swallowed the bitter taste of doubt. "Not worried," she lied, sipping her coffee. But in the true sense of the word, she already felt loads better after the enlightening conversation with Willie. It had taken the edge off her worry over Jamie's condition, even though she still couldn't erase the thought of Jenny pushing Jamie towards Geneva.

"Maybe ye should attend a therapy session with Jamie ...at least initially," he suggested, eyeing her closely as if trying to read her thoughts. "That way, it would put Jamie at ease, and Geneva would realise he's taken already."

Claire slowly placed her cup on the countertop. "Why do I get the feeling this meddling thing is inherent in your family?" she asked, feigning disapproval.

Willie put his own cup down. "Not inherent, Claire. I have my own selfish motive. Ye're the best friend of my Annalise, and I wouldn't be helping my cause if she finds out I've done nought to help ye." When Claire gasped, he grinned. "Kidding aside, even if Annalise wasn't my girlfriend, I want ye to know, I really like you for my brother."

Claire could barely see through the tears she hadn't been aware that was building up. "You sound so sure."

Willie placed his hand over hers and squeezed it. "Are ye sure about my brother?"

"With all my heart," she whispered.

"That's all I need to know."

..........

Jamie slowly opened his eyes and took in the familiar surroundings of his old room. His heart throbbed when he realised the last time he'd slept here had been on New Year's eve, with Claire tucked snuggly on the crook of his arm. Bracing himself up on his elbows, he heard his mother talking to Jenny and his da downstairs. They were probably in the kitchen discussing his state.

He rubbed his face with one hand, feeling the beginning of a day-old stubble, exhaustion washing over him in waves. A mixture of self-loathing and guilt rose within as he replayed the incident from the night before. He couldn't decide what pained him the most, the bruises he'd inflicted on Claire or the fact he'd left her in tears standing in his driveway.

When he'd taken off from his cottage, his heart had been heavy and thoughts dark, not having had any clue what he wanted to do or where to go, only determinedly pushing himself to get as far away from Claire as possible. A few hours later, he'd found himself parked outside his childhood home after Willie and Murtagh had woken him up in his car. So far, he'd only talked to his older brother Willie, and he hoped it would be enough to keep the rest of his family's questions at bay.

Sitting up, he realised he was still in his clothes. He searched for his phone and found it on the nightstand. Swiping the screen, he saw he had a few missed calls from clients and a voice message from Claire. Willie must have switched his phone to silence.

I should call her, he thought. It wouldn't be that difficult. Her voice would soothe him, and her lack of judgement would make him feel like he's on solid ground. He could show his worst, and he knew she'd still be there, smiling and soothing him with words, just like last night. Every hour that passed without seeing her or hearing from her put him a little more off centre, and he could see how too reliant he was becoming on those breaths of fresh air that sprung from her. He shook his head. She was too precious to be with someone who had this nonstop ugliness embedded in the insides of his head. It would only be a matter of time before he dragged her into his hell. He couldn't do that to her.

He was about to tap on Claire's voice message when he was alerted by a double knock on the door.

"Jamie, are ye awake, son?" It was his father.

"Come in," he answered, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

The door opened, and he saw his mother walk in first with a mug of tea. "My darling boy," she smiled, placing the hot brew on the bedside table. "I thought ye could use a bit of something warm in yer belly. How are ye feeling?" She stooped down and kissed him on the forehead.

Jamie scooted back to the headboard to make space for his mother while his father took the chair. "Exhausted," he said honestly. Although he'd slept all morning, it hadn't been a restful sleep.

His father, Brian, cleared his throat. "So ... what's going on with ye, lad?" he asked, cutting to the chase as usual.

Ellen sent her husband a warning glare before refocusing her attention back to Jamie. "Whenever ye're ready, darling," she reassured him, patting his thigh. "Willie vaguely told us what happened, and Jenny is beside herself thinking she triggered yer panic attack yesterday. And Claire ...ye never told us she's here. She's worried sick about ye."

Jamie sighed. "What's there to tell." He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "It wasnae Jenny's fault. It's just the same old, same old. The only difference this time is, I made a stupid mistake getting Claire involved with me. And I'm hurting her in the process."

Ellen briefly looked at her husband. "I find that hard to believe, Jamie. Ye're such a gentle soul, ye could never ever hurt a fly even if it's bugging ye to bits. Did ye two have a fight? Did Claire say ye were hurting her?" she asked Jamie gently.

"No. I just know I am."

"Oh, darling ..."

"So that's it ..." Brian raised his hands in the air before letting them drop to his sides. "Ye're giving in to this condition ye've fought hard against all yer life when the chance for happiness finally present itsel' to ye because ye THINK ye are hurting Claire. Is that what ye're trying to tell us? Because believe ye me, we didnae raise a violent or abusive son. So enlighten us ...where in heaven's name is this all coming from?"

"Brian!"

"It's a futile fight," Jamie blurted before taking a deep breath. "Trust me ... I'd like to have what ye both have. But at what cost? Look at the state of me. Is this the kind of man Claire deserves? She's willing to turn her life upside down for me, and for what? Only to find out later she'd saddled herself with a mentally ill man. So perhaps it's for the best she lucked out early before its too late for either of us."

His mother moved closer to his side and took his hand. "So let me get this straight. Ye're staying away from Claire because ye like her a lot, and ye're afraid to hurt her." Pain clenched tight on his vocal cords, incapacitating him to answer, but she interpreted his silence as a yes. Even though it's far more complex than that. "Oh, sweet lord, how youth is so wasted on the young," she clucked.

"Aye, perhaps." He rubbed a hand behind his neck. "But trust me, I ken fine what the problem is."

"Oh, is that so?"

His father's sarcasm wasn't lost on him, but he ignored it in favour of the pressure sinking into his chest. "I ken I hold back a lot from everyone, and I ken too that's wrong. When things get too much, I keep my mouth shut. And I dinnae realised at first that suffering in silence damages, instead of helping. Though it's easier said than done, I'm working on it. All I ever wanted was no' to be a burden or be the cause of anyone's pain. Claire deserves more."

Ellen sighed. "Jamie ...Jamie ... ye're never a burden. Ye're a delight, and we're so proud of ye. Ye need to understand, ever since ye were a wee bairn, ye've always needed a purpose, like fixing everyone's problem because it gave ye satisfaction to see ye've righted someone's world. Whenever someone was hurting, ye're always the first to reach out." Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I thought it was endearing at first until it began to take over yer life. The trauma you've gone through only amplified yer true nature to a point it wasnae healthy anymore. And the guilt that came with it when ye can do nought and thought you've failed ...almost destroyed ye every time." She shifted on the bed. "Jamie ...ye have to stop denying yersel' a chance for happiness because ye're afraid of hurting or failing someone. Pain is part of life. It's inevitable. Though it's good of ye to think of others first, sometimes, it's also good to let others carry that burden for ye and help ye. Running away because ye're afraid of hurting someone is no' gonnae to do anyone any good. Ye'll only end up hurting yersel'. And when that happens, who's going to help ye?"

His mother's logic made sense, but the chatter in his brain continued to hold its ground. "Claire's been through a lot, ma."

"And so have ye, son," Brian interjected, firmly.

"But what if I make things worse for both of us?"

"Oh my sweet boy, what if ye end up happy together?" Ellen smiled. "I ken a crystal ball would come in handy right now, but because we dinnae have one, the only way to find out is to take the risk and hope for the best. Just like what Claire is doing."

Jamie shut his eyes for a while and pictured them together. Every fibre in his body was screaming to get in his car and drive back to Broch Mordha and start making it up to Claire. But his mother was right ...he needed help. He didn't want to put Claire through all that misery again, so he decided right there and then he would start attending therapy afresh. It was the way forth, and he'd held off attending therapy for too long, which might have worsened his condition. But first things first. He needed to be in the right headspace to start doing anything.

"Fine, I'll call the clinic later for an appointment but do ye mind if I rest some more. I'm still feeling a bit off."

The chair scraped the wooden floor as Brian stood up. "Aye, of course. Ye look worn to a frazzle."

Ellen reached out and pulled Jamie into her arms and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be downstairs if ye need anything." She got up and ruffled his hair as if he was still a wee boy. "And I've made leek and tattie soup in case ye're hungry."

"Thanks, ma."

His parents were just about to walk out when Jenny strode in. "Hey."

Jamie rubbed his forehead with his fingers. "Jenny, can we talk later? I'd like to be alone for a bit."

Brian and Ellen gave his sister a warning look as they left the room, but she just shrugged. "I promise this willnae take long. Please, Jamie?"

Jamie waved a hand. "Fine. What is it?"

He watched his sister retrieve something from her jeans' pocket. "Mrs Fitz from the Airbnb gave me this. One of her clients staying over her place left an Oxford Mail newspaper a couple of weeks ago. As she was browsing through it, she came across Claire's name." She handed him a newspaper clipping. "Looks like yer wee girlfriend is an heiress."

"What? Let me see that."

Jamie skimmed through the short article about some property in Fox Lane, Boars Hill in Oxford. It said it was formerly part of the Berkeley Castle Estate. The original part of the house had been designed by the celebrated architect Sir Ernest George for Lord Berkeley, a family ancestor from her mother side. The house had apparently garnered loads of interest among the local rich after being recently vacated by a local MP. It mentioned the original owners' name as Henry and Julia Beauchamp, deceased, and the heiress as Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp.

Was this the South Lodge property Claire had been talking about she'd inherited from her parents? He hadn't really given it much thought ever since she'd casually mentioned it. This was a far cry from the cabin in the woods he'd envisioned.

"Three million pounds for a house!" Jenny broke through his reflection. "Doesn't it make ye wonder what else she inherited?"

Jamie looked at the paper again. That's what the house is worth? Ach, Christ! Even the Oxford gossip found its way to Broch Mordha. He knew Claire would be mortified if the news of her assets became everyone's favourite topic of conversation.

Folding the note, he handed it back to his sister. He saw Claire a little differently now. All that money in the world and all she only ever wanted was a place to belong to. Suddenly he felt awful for leaving her last night. He shook his head at his sister. "Not a word about this to any of yer mates!" he warned her. "Or else ..."

Jenny's eyes widened. "What do ye take me for?"

"A babble merchant," he ribbed, unsmiling. "Now, let me be."

"Ye're no' angry at me still, are ye?"

"No," he sighed. "I'm just exhausted."

"Can I do anything for ye?"

He puffed out a breath. Jenny was looking at him earnestly, and he knew she only wanted to reach out. "Aye, in fact, ye can. Ye can arrange that appointment with the therapist for me."

She smiled, seemingly happy to please. "Right on it. If ye need anything else ..."

"Aye, aye, I'll let ye know."

Jenny left, and somehow, he felt a little less heavy in the heart than he did when he woke up earlier. Grabbing his phone, he tapped play on Claire's voice message.

"Hey, it's me. Just letting you know how much I miss you. I felt a little sad earlier, so I wandered into a cafe in the village centre after Willie left. They had this upbeat music playing in the background. It's an old song. Probably from the eighties or nineties, I'm not quite sure. It's pretty cheesy, but it brought a smile to my face. And now I can't get the music out of my head. Maybe if you listen to it too, it will bring a smile to your face. It's from Rick Astley, Never Gonna Give You Up." There was a pause before she spoke again. "Right, I'll let you rest. Willie told me that's what you've been doing. I'm going to take Rollo out for a walk now and try to get some work done. I'll text and send you a voice message later. I love you."

Ah, Sassenach! He swiped the screen to phone her, but his phone beeped and died. Ah, shite! He wanted to go and see her now but stopped. He had to take steps to make himself better first. He needed to put in the hours to help himself. She deserved the extra time he would put in because she's not getting half-arsed from him again. But for now ...

He scrambled out of bed and opened the bedroom door.

"Ma!" he called out.

"What is it, dear?"

"Do ye still have all yer old music from yer university days?"

"Anything in particular?"

He cringed inwardly. Ah, fuck! "Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley?"

He thought he heard females sniggering downstairs.

Dear Readers,

Thank you so much for your patience with the previous chapter and, mostly, the feedback and beautiful comments. I hope this latest update felt a lot lighter to read. I'll keep this short as I'm drained today; nevertheless, I wish you a great weekend.

Looking forward to reading what you think of this update. Take care always, and keep those love vibes rolling. Much love. X

[ssa-babygirl]

Out of My League [Part 2]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.5k (ohohohoho i went OVERBOARD with the dialogue here I am sorry for all the useless exposition)

Summary: Most things have changed in the last 10 years, but it’s safe to say that a few things stayed exactly the same. Mixed POV

Warning(s): Mentions of past bullying, mentions of cheating, mentions of kidnapping, general criminal minds stuff, cursing, VERY VERY BRIEF MENTION of a miscarriage and leukemia like it’s one sentence and that’s all

Author’s Note: The moment yall have been waiting for! They grow up so fast!! I’m going on a quick trip this week and then heading back to school a few days later, so the next part may take a little longer, but I’m super excited to write it!!

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Las Vegas, Nevada, 2004

(Spencer’s POV)

My first case out on the field was not a pleasant one. Well, it rarely is, that’s what happens when you work for the FBI to catch serial killers. For the first couple of weeks at the BAU, I helped them consult on cases, but they weren’t sure I was ready to go out on the field with them. After I got my weapon certification, Gideon told me he wanted me to come along on the next case because I was familiar with the area. There had been a series of child abductions near Vegas, my hometown. I would have been much more nervous about traveling had I not been able to see my mom while I was there. I hadn’t visited her in a while and the guilt was gnawing at me.

The first day was brutal. Hotch made some of us go back to the hotel late at night, but it was hard for us to sleep. JJ hated working cases about children, so she went to have a quick drink at the hotel bar, where she promptly forgot her purse and had to call me from her room to go get it for her. I had no hope of getting any rest that night, so I figured I’d take a walk down the hall and try to clear my head. 

There was no sign of the purse at first glance, no small black clutch on the bar like JJ said. But there was a woman cleaning glasses behind the counter, maybe she knew where the purse was.

As I approached the bar, the woman’s features took a familiar shape and triggered a distant memory. Seeing her face again was like coming home after a long drive without a map, squinting through the dark and hoping the headlights would get brighter when finally, you’re pulling onto a road that you know by heart. 

I didn’t need to look at her nametag, I already knew who she was, but judging by her polite smile borne solely out of the courtesy required to work in the service industry, she didn’t recognize me. In her defense, I had grown about a foot and a half since the last time she saw me. And I got a freaking haircut. 

“Y-Y/N?” 

She looked up from her rags and scrunched up her face in confusion.

“Okay, so you definitely know me, and I am so sorry about this, but I can’t quite place it. You look so familiar, though, I just… I meet a lot of people with this job, I’m so sorry, I forgot your name.”

I grinned, she still had that same habit of apologizing every five seconds, “I don’t really have that problem, eidetic memory and all.”

Her eyes widened, “Spencer? Spencer Reid!”

I laughed and nodded.

“You’re so tall now! What has it been, like, 10 years? Oh my goodness, come here.” She awkwardly leaned over the bar and hugged me. She still used the same shampoo. 

“How ya been, kid?”

“I’m good! H-How are you?”

“Doing fine, thanks. What brings you back to good ol’ Sin City?”

“I’m here for work.”

“Oh, and what are you doing now?” She leaned on the counter and gazed up with curious eyes, “Helping the doctors at Area 51?”

Good to know she still had jokes, “No actually, I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

“Woah, you’re a fed now?”

“Yeah, we’re investigating a series of--”

“Kidnappings. Yeah. Scary shit. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, I’m good.”

“You close to catching the guy?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Any of the kids turn up?”

“Unfortunately, yes. We found one boy this morning. He… didn’t make it.”

Her face dropped to a look of worry I hadn’t seen since she took off my blindfold that day on the football field, “Name. I need a name,” her voice grew hoarse.

“I can’t really disclose that information.”

“Spencer, please. Every day my kid comes home from school and asks me if I was watching the news.”

I couldn’t deny the way my heart sank at the news, but I could sure as hell ignore it, “Y-You have kids?”

“One. Little Jamie. His best friend, Robbie, is missing.” Robbie Carter, age five, he’s been missing for the past two weeks. He’s likely dead, but we still haven’t found him.

“Every time someone misses school he gets scared they got taken too. Baby Boy doesn’t understand flu season yet.”

“How old is he?” I had to get her mind off of this. I don’t want to worry her.

“Five. Just started kindergarten. Wanna see a picture?” Seems like I succeeded. 

“Sure.”

She whipped out her phone and pulled up a picture of Jamie on his first day of school, backpack far too big for his body. Y/N was posed next to him, the picture too small to show that she was crying ever so slightly.

“Adorable, right?”

I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face, “Cute kid. Looks just like you.”

She looked back at the photo and smiled softly, “Except the eyes. He’s got his dad’s eyes.”

I glanced down at her hand holding the phone and was greeted with a pleasant surprise, “I’m guessing Jamie’s dad isn’t in the picture?”

Offense flickered across her features for a second, her eyebrows twitching and lips pursing, “How’d you know?”

“No ring.”

“You do work for the FBI.”

“Would you mind telling me what happened?”

“You know, you’re supposed to be the one spilling your sorrows to the bartender, not the other way around.”

“You don’t have to tell me, just thought we could catch up, I haven’t seen you in ten years.”

She sighed, returning her phone to the front pocket in her apron, “Remember Kyle Brothers?”

“Oh, do I? Yeah, of course, I remember your high school boyfriend, Y/N. What tipped you off, the eidetic memory, or the fact he used to beat me up after gym class?” It was more like the intense rage and jealousy I had when they got back together after football season ended.

“God, see, I always knew he was an asshole, but it never seemed to faze me, I’m so sorry about that.”

“You did what you could. And you apologize too much.”

“Sor--”

She froze mid-word and made a face as she realized once again that she was about to apologize yet again. I stifled a chuckle, but she laughed and grabbed a rag from the counter to finish cleaning the glasses.

“So Kyle?”

“Yes, Kyle. We broke up again before college, I was going out of state and didn’t wanna do long distance, you know all that. I was in a really bad place during my senior year of college, so after graduation, I decided to move back home for a bit, spend some time with my mom--”

“How is she?”

“She’s great! Moved to D.C. with my dad a while back.”

“I should visit her, Quantico isn’t far.” 

She returned a genuine smile, “She would love that.”

“Sorry I interrupted you, keep going.”

“You’re fine. Long story short, moving back home for a few months turned into having a one night stand with my ex. Which turned into us getting engaged nine months later while I’m exhausted and holding my son.”

“Well, that’s a fun birth story for Jamie.”

“Yeah, ‘Happy Birthday, sweetie, your father proposed to me while you were, like, an hour old and then cheated on me six months later.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.” She popped the p, “Came home and heard two things: Jamie fussing in his sleep from the playpen and bedsprings squeaking in our room.”

“I’m guessing that you guys were done for good after that?”

“Nice detective work.”

“Technically, I’m a profiler, not a detective, as they typically work in local police departments and I work for the federal government, not a precinct--”

“Jesus, kid, you’re gonna put the poor lil lady to sleep,” I turned around and saw Morgan crossing the lobby to the bar, still in his work clothes.

“If I'm yawning it’s from my double shift, not his rambling. It’s been a while since I heard a good Spencer Reid knowledge dump.”

“You two know each other?” He leaned on the bar and I could sense him turning on the classic Derek Morgan charm.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Uh, Y/N, this is SSA Derek Morgan, we work together, Morgan, this is Y/N L/N, we went to high school together.” The “I had a huge crush on her” was silent.

“Nice to meet you, doll,” he reached out a hand to shake yours. His eyes lingered on you for a bit too long, and I recognized the look in her eyes from the way she talked to Kyle in the halls before our study sessions, and I didn’t like any of that one bit.

Derek turned back to me, “JJ sent you down here a while ago, she’s looking for you.”

I glanced at Y/N and tried to hide the cocktail of emotions in my mind, “I guess I just lost track of time.”

He probably caught onto something because his regular teasing smirk flashed on across his face, “You guess, sure, loverboy, I’ll be in our room. Nice meeting you, Y/N.” He left and she waved, watching him as he left.

“JJ?” She asked, turning back to me.

“Coworker of mine, she left her purse down here and sent me to get it for her.”

“Oh, Blondie from earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“She seemed nice. So pretty!” She reached below the bar and pulled out the small black purse that was left behind about an hour before, holding it up to me and cocking an eyebrow.

“Yep.” 

“How long have you two been working together? Long enough to be more than coworkers?”

I laughed uncomfortably, “Uh, n-no, actually this is actually my first case on the field, before this I only really helped the team consult on cases, but this one was urgent and I wanted to visit my mom so they brought me along.”

“Well, send Diana my love.”

“Of course. And if you hear anything from Jamie about another missing kid, give us a call.” I reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, sliding it to her and leaving with a sympathetic smile, wishing I could say more.

              (Reader POV)

About a week after you ran into Spencer, you were closely following the story as it unfolded on the news. Another kid had gone missing, the second in two weeks. His name was Drew Olson, he was a year older than Jamie. They didn’t find a body yet, so there was still hope. Robbie hadn’t turned up either, which was the best news you had about him. No other bodies have shown up yet, and the cause of death for the boy they found was starvation, so the guy probably didn’t want to hurt these kids.

Regardless of whether or not the situation was actually dangerous, the school still increased security, since two of the victims were students. The pickup line was heavily monitored by teachers and faculty to make sure all students went home with their parents. You had gotten there a bit later than usual, forcing you to the back of the crowd where you couldn’t see the kids as they came out of the building. 

When you finally got up towards the front, there were only a handful of kids left.

And Jamie wasn’t one of them.

Panic started to twist your stomach into knots, but the rational part of your brain clawed at the inside of your skull saying he was just inside, he was waiting in a classroom, he was safe.

You pushed through to the teacher that was keeping track of names on her clipboard. She was younger, just about your age, and wore wire-framed glasses that complimented her dark braids. She gave a warm smile and asked for your child’s name.

“Brothers, Jamie Brothers.”

“Alrighty, let’s see--” she paused as her finger stopped over a name highlighted by a bright green, indicating that the child had been picked up: Jamie Brothers.

“He’s not here.”

“What? What do you mean he’s not here?” The part of your brain that said he was safe fucked right off and left you a shaking mess on the pavement. The teacher reached an arm out and held you by the elbow as your knees buckled beneath you. Other parents’ attention was suddenly directed towards you. 

“Ma’am, the sheet says he was picked up already.”

“But by who? Not me! So who the hell took my son?” All eyes were on you as you didn’t even bother to control the volume of your voice. 

“Mrs. Brothers, please remain calm, I’m sure there’s been a mistake, I can send someone in to find him inside the school.”

“Please…” You whimpered, unable to find your breath.

...Give us a call…

Spencer’s words echoed in your mind and you knew what you had to do, so you scrambled through your bag for the card you were given the week before. You frantically cursed under your breath as you searched for your wallet. You finally found it, taking it out with your phone so you could call the number on the card. It rang once, twice, three times before an unfamiliar voice crackled through on the other side. 

“Agent Hotchner.”

“Are you with the FBI?”

“...Yes, who is this?”

“My name is Y/N L/N, Spencer Reid gave me this number if I knew anything.”

“Do you have information regarding the recent abductions?”

“My son’s been taken.” You could feel the lump in your throat nearly restricting any words from coming out.

“Hold on, ma’am, where are you?”

“I’m at the school, he’s not here. I came to get him and he’s not here, I don’t know what to do!”

“Miss L/N, stay put, we’re on our way.” The call ended with a click and suddenly the world went quiet. There was nothing but the rush of blood pounding in your ears. All you could do was stare blankly at nothing in particular as the phone fell from your hand, hitting the pavement, your knees following quickly behind. You felt the bruises on impact, but you couldn’t care less about how much pain you were in, not when you felt this numb. Your pain didn’t matter anymore, all that mattered was that Jamie was missing and you were powerless to help. The remaining parents surrounded you, all clutching the shoulders of their children, their safe children, the ones they didn’t have to call the fucking FBI to pick up from school today.

When your brain was able to process information again, you noticed the school parking lot had filled with police cars, including two large black SUVs. You squinted through the inappropriately bright sunlight and the bitter tears in your eyes to see a tall man in a dark suit approach you. Behind him, a scrawny young man in a plaid buttondown was following closely.

You recognized him right away this time.

“Spencer,” your voice was barely a whisper as you attempted to stand on your shaking legs. You looked straight past the man in the suit and scrambled over to him. Before you could even reach him, his arms were stretched out to you, enveloping you in a tight hug as soon as you were close enough.

Your heart had to be beating out of your chest, and you were sure he felt it against him. The tears running down your cheeks stained his shirt, soaking him to the skin as he cradled your head against his chest, trying to do whatever he could to make you feel safe again, no matter how scared he was.

The man in the suit was now joined by an older man in a brown jacket and the man you met at the bar the other night, Derek, you think his name was. The suit turned to you and Spencer and introduced himself as Agent Hotchner, the man you spoke to on the phone. He asked you to describe what happened when you arrived, if you saw anyone who looked out of place, if you saw evidence of a struggle. Spencer’s arms never left your frame the whole time you spoke.

“Thank you very much, Miss L/N, I promise we’ll find your son, we have time on our side. Reid, stay with her in the meantime, Morgan, go question the parents, Gideon and I will talk to the monitors and see if they knew who picked Jamie was picked up by.”

“Yes, sir.”

All the men left to complete their tasks except for Spencer, who was supposed to stay put with you. The second you were alone with him once again, your face returned to the spot on his dampened shirt where it had previously been. One of his hands was planted firmly on your upper back, the other stroking your hair between his fingers.

It’s strange, really. Last time you saw him he was just a kid. A brilliant, sweet, small kid. The kid who’s hair you’d fuck with. The kid you held after his bullies hurt him. Then you don’t see him for over a decade and suddenly the roles are reversed. He was tall enough to rest his chin on your head now, which you had mixed feelings about, but you couldn’t deny it calmed you down. Almost as much as his quick yet steady heartbeat drumming right in your ear. The kid was still skinny, but his hugs were still warm. 

“You’re alright, we’re gonna find him,” he whispered into your hair, but you had a feeling those words weren’t only for you. After a few minutes, the three other agents returned to where you and Spencer stood, alerting the two of you that the team would be heading back to the police station where you were welcome to wait with them. Derek figured you were too shaken to drive yourself, so he offered to let you ride along with him and Spencer in the SUV, which you did not hesitate to accept.

Once at the station, you were greeted by the blonde from the bar. What was her name again?

“Jennifer Jareau, I’m the press liaison for the team. You can call me JJ.”

She sat with you while Spencer worked with the others on the case. You wanted to be updated whenever progress was made, but she told you that wasn’t totally possible. Regardless of how against the rules it was, she still gave you the profile. The unsub likely worked with children and knew them and faculty well enough to enter the building and take the kids without being noticed. They may be a parent going through a loss, as no evidence of sexual assault or any physical violence was found on the only body save for light ligature marks on the wrists. Due to the relatively nonviolent nature of the crime, the unsub could be a woman. They likely live alone since they are keeping several young boys in their home. Although this likely wasn’t the work of a pedophile, a trafficking ring could not be ruled out yet.

You suddenly understood why the victims’ families aren’t supposed to know the profile. You thought it would make you feel better, but it only made you feel worse. JJ opened up another box of tissues for you, got you water, and offered you snacks, but there was no way you could get anything down. Every sound, every person that passed the window, every buzz of JJ’s phone sent your stomach plummeting down a death drop. You had just calmed yourself down from yet another panic attack when you saw agents strapping on kevlar vests and putting their guns into their holsters.

They knew where the kids were.

              (Spencer’s POV)

I wasn’t allowed to see her before we left. I couldn’t tell her where I was going, I couldn’t tell her that Jamie would be okay, I couldn’t tell her anything. I barely spoke to her since we got back to the station, and that was hours ago. Now I-- we just have to leave her there again.

This was my first time going out on the field in this capacity. I’d never had to step out of that SUV with my gun out, ready to shoot anyone who threatened the lives of my team or any hostages they may have. I’d never had to strap on a kevlar vest and worry about the potential bruises that may be left behind by being hit with bullets. I’d never had to worry about not coming back before.

“Don’t be worried. If your hands shake you won’t get a clear shot,” Gideon reminded me in the car, as if I’d be able to get a clear shot with a steady hand anyway.

The unsub was a woman named Harriet Yanonovich. According to hospital records pulled by Garcia, our new tech analyst, her son had recently passed after a short and sudden battle against leukemia. This came shortly after Harriet had a miscarriage that triggered a chemical imbalance, degrading her mental health, which resulted in the trigger, losing her job at the elementary school that the boys had each been taken from. I would have felt bad for her if she hadn’t taken my friend’s son away from her.

But she did, and now I just have to hope she didn’t hurt him.

We arrived at Harriet’s house fairly quickly. Hotch sent Morgan and me around the back, he and Gideon would take the front. As we rounded the back of the house, we discovered that she had a storm cellar under her deck. The doors were closed with a heavy padlock. Morgan aimed his gun to shoot it off the chain.

“Don’t do that. The bullet would ricochet and hit you in the knee.”

He lowered his weapon, “You got a better idea, pretty boy?”

“Yes, actually.” I quietly crept onto the deck, lifting the welcome mat from in front of the sliding glass door into the absolute wreck of a kitchen. Under the mat was a simple looking key. 

“She’s a school teacher going through a depressive episode, not a criminal mastermind.”

“Alright then, genius,” he rolled his eyes, “Let’s see if it even works.”

I inserted the key into the lock, hearing a click and turning it with little difficulty. The shackle popped open. I gently removed it from the chains, trying my hardest not to make any noise that would alarm anyone in the cellar. Unwrapping the chains from the handles, I turned back to face Morgan.

“I accept your apology.” I attempted to muster my smuggest smile, but it was hard to mask the dread and worry on my face.

“Yeah, yeah, open up.”

He grabbed one handle and I grabbed the other, sliding the metal doors open and revealing a staircase into a shadowy basement.

“You first.” Morgan nudged my shoulder.

“What? No way! Morgan, this is serious!”

“So go! It’s your girl’s kid!”

He was right. Not about Y/N being my girl, because she wasn’t (though the thought did briefly replace the anxiety in my heart with pure light that I hadn’t felt since I was twelve), but I was still doing this for her. This case wasn’t just a job for me. This was for Y/N. For Jamie. Y/N deserves to see her son again, I owe her that much.

Derek would learn about my fear of the dark much later, but from how fast I jumped down those stairs into that cellar, he’d never been able to tell.

Against the farthest wall, there were four young boys all curled up in a corner. From the limited light, I could see they were all covered in varying levels of filth, the cleanest boy baring the face I had seen on Y/N’s phone screen. The boys all looked terrified, the two dirtiest looking thin and weak against the ties that bound them to a water pipe. I called up to Morgan to come down and lowered my gun.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI, I’m here to help you guys, okay?” The boys all nodded. Morgan helped me untie their wrists.

“Do you know where Mrs. Yanonovich went?”

“She said she was going upstairs, and that we have to be good or else we wouldn’t get any supper,” Jamie piped up.

“How long you been down here, kid?” Morgan asked.

Jamie shrugged, “Couple hours.”

“Did she hurt any of you?” The kids all shook their heads no.

Hotch’s voice crackled over the radio, “We have her in custody, any sign of the kids?”

“Yep, we found them in the cellar. All are alive, but we may need a medic on standby at the station for some of them.”

“Are they hurt?”

“No, just malnourished. Definitely dehydrated.”

Morgan and I led the kids out to the surface, the setting sun creating a glare off of the tin cellar doors. We were greeted by Gideon and police rounding the corner to the backyard. The kids ran out the gate towards the police cars, eager to be home soon. 

               (Reader POV)

“Okay, I’ll let them know.” JJ hung up and turned back to you, a relieved smile gracing her face. You stood up, desperate to hear the news she had.

“They found the kids, Jamie’s safe.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from lunging at the woman you barely knew, wrapping her in a bear hug as delighted laughs left your lungs. You felt tears of pure relief drip down your cheeks as she squeezed you back, also letting out a deep sigh.

You waited impatiently in the bullpen, anxious to see Jamie unharmed and to give the team your gratitude. When they finally arrived, you saw your son walking hand-in-hand with Spencer and the older agent you believed was named Gideon. Spencer pointed over to you with his free hand and smiled, causing Jamie to drop their hands and sprint into your arms crying “Mommy! Mommy!” You immediately lifted him up and covered his face with kisses. The two of you held onto one another so tight, you were surprised either of you could breathe. Spencer came over to you, smiling with eyes you couldn’t quite recognize. 

“Thank you, Spencer.”

“No need, Y/N. I’m glad I could help. I just wish I could have met Jamie here on better terms!”

You adjusted your hold on Jaime to free one hand, stretching it out for Spencer to take it in his own. You squeezed it gently, smiling into those hazel eyes that had somehow never looked warmer before, despite the deep shadows under them.

“Thank you.”

His pursed lips twitched slightly and you noticed the tears brimming his sunken eyes. The poor boy needed sleep and a lot of it soon. He squeezed your hand back, sending shockwaves up your arms straight to your heart, which hadn’t felt this light since you were seventeen years old.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue @rottenearly @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae​ @t0xicllama​ @undeniablyyou​ @staplernpaper​

[andawaywego]

Hey!! Could you maybe write a jealous Dani fic please? I mean we all know Jamie is a catch.

she totally is. but...they both are. here you go! i hope you like it.

..

The first time that Dani ever saw Jamie—coming into the kitchen at Bly, dusty and dirty in with those rolled-back sleeves and that unaffected smirk on her lips—the sight of her knocked the breath from her chest. Even under the grime on her cheeks and the shimmer of sweat, Jamie somehow looked like a Hollywood starlet. One of those black-and-white movie stars that Dani grew up fascinated by. Her curly brown hair brushing the tops of her shoulders, her eyes happy and bright, even the pink shape of her mouth and the pale column of her neck. It was almost hard to look at.

Of course, Dani kept that to herself for a little while. It wasn’t as if she’d never thought of girls as beautiful before—or that she hadn’t daydreamed about them every so often. It was that Jamie was a colleague, an associate, and someone she saw practically every day. Throw in the added bonus of Dani having just lost her fiancé who was haunting her, the mess that was everything Flora and Miles, and all the rest and it’s amazing that they found each other at all, really.

But then they’d kissed and Jamie hadn’t run even when Dani had and it was as if she came even more beautiful every time Dani became aware of something else in this hard world that tried to put her down. The lines beneath her eyes were something she caught herself staring at, that scowl she came to love a near-permanent fixture on Jamie’s face. The way she looked in the summer sun, pruning roses and wiping the sweat from her forehead. It was...a lot.

And Dani is only human. Of course she thought Jamie was beautiful the moment she first saw her, just as she knows she is now. It’s a truth she’s come to live with: Jamie is absolutely breathtaking, even on her worst day.

And she would absolutely roll her eyes if Dani ever said that aloud.

It’s been thirteen months since that first day at Bly and Jamie is still beautiful, yes. All the time.

But Dani isn’t the only one who notices that.

Of course she isn’t. She could be so lucky.

Jamie has had a myriad of smitten fans since they opened The Leafling—teenage girls shopping for corsages who aren’t sure what to make of her winning smile and winking eyes; men who come in shopping for wives, or girlfriends, or mothers and trail after her around the store as she suggests different arrangements; even little boys who come in with their parents who turn bright red the moment Jamie greets them.

And Dani knows it shouldn’t bother her. No matter who it is that’s fallen under Jamie’s spell, she’s the one that goes home with her at night. She’s the one who knows what it’s like to touch Jamie and kiss her and be loved by her in return. It isn’t as if she owns Jamie—you can’t be the property of someone else.

But again: she’s human. She has flaws.

And one of them is the bitter knot of jealousy in her chest as she watches the bearded guy—who’s come in three times in the last week—listen to Jamie describe the meanings of different rose types.

He’s handsome enough—tall and blue-eyed with a dimple in his left cheek that’s put on display every time he smiles. And he smiles a lot at Jamie as she speaks. Every so often, he’ll say something Dani can’t quite hear from her spot behind the counter—working on an arrangement for someone’s recently-engaged daughter—and Jamie will laugh, this genuine, joyful noise that never fails to make Dani’s stomach bottom out.

“What about pink, then?” the man asks and Dani narrowed eyes bore holes into the back of his head. “If red means love and desire.”

There’s a quality to his voice when he says this that sort of makes Dani want to smack him across the face. Briefly, she imagines going over and forcing herself into the interaction—wrapping her arm around Jamie’s waist and pulling her tightly into her side. Glaring daggers until the man gets the hint and stops his incessant and completely unsubtle flirtations.

“Well, they can mean a lot of things,” Jamie begins, and her voice trails off in a list of the different emotions that pink can convey. The familiar cadence of her voice washes over Dani’s ears, making her mind calm a little, her hands steady.

Her ears still feel hot, yes, and her chest tight, but she forces herself to watch Jamie’s profile as she talks. The way she moves her hands. The smile on her face that’s always there when she’s discussing something she’s passionate about.

She’s mesmerizing, really. Sometimes it’s like Dani can’t even think clearly because of it.

Her eyes trail down Jamie’s neck to the collar of her shirt, buttoned high to hide the love bite Dani left on her neck the night before. She’d scolded Dani when she saw it that morning, while she was getting dressed, but she’d been grinning as she did it. Biting her lip. And she’s been stealing kisses between customers all day.

Dani does that, too—pretending to be bother by the marks that Jamie leaves behind, but she’s never really attempted to hide them once they’re there. There’s something to being able to see the evidence of Jamie on her body. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of it.

Mr. Beard laughs and Dani’s eyes flit over to him. He looks way too charmed with himself. She rolls her eyes so hard it kind of hurts, then forces herself to return to her arrangement.

Eyes down. Hum a song to herself so she can’t hear what he’s saying to her girlfriend. Good distractions. Clean and non-violent thoughts.

Eventually, she’s jarred from them by a light touch at her waist. When she looks up, Jamie is there, smiling fondly and it makes Dani’s heart stutter in her chest.

“Can I squeeze by ya’?” Jamie asks. “Need the till.”

“Oh. Right.”

Dani moves to the side, letting Jamie slide behind her, and has to force herself to keep from making a truly inelegant noise when she feels Jamie’s hips press into her from behind as she goes.

It takes her a moment to realize that Mr. Beard is standing in front of the counter, a single yellow rose in his hand. He gives Dani an awkward, close-lipped smile as Jamie reads him his total, fishing into his back pocket to pull out a few bills.

“Um, so,” he says once Jamie has handed him his change. She leans forward against the counter curiously. His eyes flit to Dani for a moment, an expression she can’t quite read on his face. She thinks it might be slight aggravation. She turns her attention back to her arrangement. “I’m sorry if this is forward, but I’m actually buying this...for you.”

Everything falls silent. Dani’s muscles freeze and she blinks down at her flowers, trying to figure out if she’d just heard him right. Beside her, she feels Jamie’s similar reaction and she can see—out of the corner of her eye—that the man is offering her the rose he’s just bought.

“I thought maybe you’d like to get dinner sometime?” he says, continuing on like the air in the shop hasn’t just been viciously murdered and is now stagnant and thick.

Dani clenches her jaw so tightly, grinding her teeth together, that it could snap.

“Oh.” Jamie’s voice is understandably surprised. Dani feels, rather than sees, Jamie glance over at her and then away. “Um…”

“I know this great place just up the street—”

“I...uh…”

“—and I’d love the chance to get to know you better.”

“Excuse me,” Dani says, so quietly she almost can’t hear herself, and turns on her heel, marching into the back room and closing the door behind herself.

The office is really nothing more than a desk, two filing cabinets, and a couch that had been part of the shop’s lease. Frustration is licking the back of Dani’s neck, hot and livid, and she has to clench her fists to keep from hitting something.

She’s never been a violent person—no, never—but the audacity of this stranger to think he has some sort of claim on Jamie—that Jamie would even be interested—is doing interesting things to her poor heart.

This isn’t how she thought her day was going to go, that’s all.

The door is just thick enough that she can hear voices, but can’t actually make out anything that’s being said. After a moment or two, she collapses onto the couch and buries her face in her hands, trying to calm down.

It isn’t as if the guy actually has a chance with Jamie.

They live together, for God’s sake. They have a shop together and a life together and when Dani says, “I love you,” Jamie doesn’t even hesitate to say it back. There’s no realistic risk of losing her to this guy.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. There’s no reason to be upset.

She’s still telling herself that when the door opens sometime later. There’s movement—she can’t really tell because her hands are still covering her eyes—and then a warm hand is wrapping around her arm, gently guiding her hands away.

Jamie is kneeling in front of her with an apologetic smile on her perfect lips. “Hey,” she says simply, softly.

“Hey,” Dani returns. Then, bitterly, “So when’s Beard-o taking you out?”

Jamie’s smile falters for a second, but then she shakes her head. “Oh, Lord. That was the...absolutely worst, wasn’t it? I was actually embarrassed for him.”

It shouldn’t be, really, but her words are still a bit of a relief.

“You mean that’s not your type? Making you pick out the flower he gives you? From your own shop?” Dani asks.

Jamie feigns a shudder. “He loses points for creativity there, yeah.” She grabs one of Dani’s hands and pulls it nearer, pressing her lips to her fingers in a gentle kiss.

Morbid curiosity bites at the back of Dani’s throat. She can’t help but ask, “What did you tell him?”

“What do you think?” Jamie says, a breathless little laugh accompanying the words. “I said no.”

Dani’s shoulders deflate. “Right.” She’s trying her hardest not to sound as frustrated as she’s feeling, but she knows it’s not working.

There aren’t secrets between them anymore. Dani doesn’t think she’d be capable of keeping any even if she wanted to. So Jamie’s smile slips away and she shifts nearer, finally understanding what it is that’s going on.

“You’re not...Poppins, are you actually...jealous?”

Dani shakes her head, looking away. “Of course not,” she says, hating the way the messy swirl of emotions in her chest is making her feel so juvenile and silly.

“You are,” Jamie decides.

And, okay then—

“Yeah, okay,” Dani confesses, her voice pitched a little more exasperated than she’d like. “Some handsome guy comes into our shop and makes you laugh and asks you to dinner because he can do that—he can just ask, and he could hold your hand at dinner if he wanted or give you things that I—” She shakes her head, trying to clear it. “I’m sorry. I know it’s dumb, but I…”

She trails off, unsure of how to finish that thought.

Jamie is staring at her silently, her expression one of serious consideration and it makes Dani all the more nervous. All this time together, part of her has been so scared that, one of these days, Jamie will finally find the thing about her that’s made everyone else want to leave, too.

“You wanna know what I told him?” Jamie says after the silence has lingered for a little while and she doesn’t wait for an answer. “I told him that I’m taken. That I’m in a relationship with somebody I love more than anything.” Dani looks up, finally, to meet her eyes. “And even if I wasn’t...even in a world where I never met you, Dani, it still would have been no. But I did meet you and I love you. So you have nothing to worry about.”

And she smiles again—that brilliant smile that never fails to make Dani’s knees feel weak; she’s so glad she’s sitting down—and, just like that, all those worries and fears drain away. She knows Jamie better than she’s ever known anyone and she knows that Jamie would never lie to her.

She leans down and Jamie meets her halfway, grinning into the kiss in a way that makes Dani grin, too. She scratches a hand through Jamie’s hair, one arm coming down to grip her upper arm, kissing her back with everything she has.

“I’m so in love with you, Dani,” she whispers, dotting her kisses to Dani’s cheek and pulling her into a one-armed hug.

And it’s been over a year, but those words still make Dani feel like the ground has been dropped out from beneath her feet.

“Well, that’s convenient,” she says. “Because I love you, too.”

Jamie laughs, kisses her again, whispers, “What a coincidence,” into the air as she leans their foreheads together.

“I’m sorry that I—” Dani begins, but Jamie doesn’t let her. Kisses her to shut her up.

“No need,” she says. She runs her fingers down the side of Dani’s face and then pulls her other arm—the one she’s been keeping tucked behind her back—out to reveal a yellow rose, which she offers up. “As a token of my affection.”

“Is this—?” Dani asks, biting her lip to keep from smirking too wide.

“The same.” She shrugs. “He was in a rush to get out. Just left it there on the counter. Figured...it’s paid for. Might as well go to a pretty girl.”

“And that’s me?”

Jamie nods. “That’s you.”

Dani takes the rose and then they’re kissing again and, by the time Jamie is weaving her fingers into Dani’s hair and straddling her on the couch, Dani can hardly remember what she was worried about in the first place.

..

[kerosene-insomniac]

To Be So Lonely

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku

Warnings: alpha/beta/omega dynamics, violence, strong language, homosexual behavior, major character death {not bakudeku}

Word Count for Chapter: 3,715 words

Summary: Midoriya Izuku has always wanted to be a musician. Something about the lyric working with a melody to convey his feeling just made his heart race. After his father died when he was three, Izuku has always relied on his mother. She worked two jobs to care for him and always supported his dreams. But when his mother is diagnosed with breast cancer just after he graduated high school, Izuku has to shift his focus. Now he’s working two jobs and takes care of his mother with the help of his gay neighbors.

In an attempt to learn self-defense, Izuku takes a few classes at a local gym. It’s there that he meets Toshinori Yagi, an older beta who used to be a professional heavyweight boxer. Yagi notices Izuku’s potential and encourages the small omega to eventually go pro. So, in order to make more money, Izuku eventually agrees.

Bakugou Katsuki has only ever wanted to fight. Orphaned as the young age of four, Katsuki has been fighting to live for his entire life. Fighting is all he’s ever known. After fighting underground for a couple years, Katsuki is noticed by Todoroki Enji. The older alpha takes him in at 19 and names him the official successor of his legacy (especially since all of his actual kids hate him).

 Now, Katsuki is 25-years-old and the professional heavyweight champion.

In a whirlwind of events, Katsuki meets Izuku in the unlikeliest of places. He watches the small omega perform and can’t help it feel extremely protective and absolutely enamored with him. The older alpha gets to meet him and say goodbye without even learning the omega’s name. Katsuki isn’t sure that they’ll ever meet again.

That is, until Katsuki officially meets Izuku at a professional lunch with his manager’s rival.

{OR}

The one where Katsuki is a professional alpha boxer with arrogance issues and Izuku is a stubborn omega that’s way little too reckless with his well-being.

With a wacky cast of characters (including three idiots, a manly best friend, a traumatized bastard with daddy-issues, and many more) absolutely hell-bent on getting them together, neither men can seem to catch a break

{0.5} Icarus

“There are two circumstances that lead to arrogance: one is when you're wrong and you can't face it; the other is when you're right and nobody else can face it.”

― Criss Jami

I Z U K U

“It was nice seeing you after all these years, Enji.”

Izuku mentally groaned as Toshinori kept talking to the overgrown alpha. Their lunch had long since ended, so the small omega just wanted to head across the street and begin his warm-up.

And to get away from Katsuki Bakugou, who had been staring at him since this whole shit-show started.

Endeavor huffed in agreement and glanced in Izuku’s direction. “Your successor seems very headstrong, so I can’t wait to see how he fares today.”

I love that he’s talking like I’m not here.

“He’ll exceed your expectations. Let’s head out, Izuku.”

Izuku immediately relaxed, wagering standing to follow Toshinori out of the restaurant. His dress (which had been forced on him by Uraraka, who said something about looking nice for a certain alpha) brushed against his knees and tickled his legs.

Honestly, he couldn’t leave fast enough.

The small omega followed his teacher towards the exit, nodding respectively in Endeavor’s direction. And Todoroki’s.

When his gaze landed on Bakugou, he simply looked ahead.

The outside air caressed Izuku’s soft skin and made him sigh in relief. Compared to the tension in the restaurant, the slightest amount of breeze felt like a god-send.

“Young Bakugou seems very interested…”

Toshinori’s voice was teasing and affectionate, but Izuku immediately stiffened. There is no way that they were talking about the same alpha.

Izuku hummed lowly, adjusting his jacket. “I disagree, sensei. He seems arrogant and insufferable with a need to prove that he’s stronger than anybody else.”

“I think he’s just concerned for your well-being.”

The small omega huffed, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink as he glanced at his teacher. The idea of an attractive alpha feeling protective over him was flattering yet incredibly infuriating.

Izuku is here for one reason and one reason only.

“Deku! Wait!”

Fucking fuck.

Toshinori stopped and glanced behind them, his face lighting up in amusement. “It seems like someone wants to speak with you, Izuku. Don’t take too long and I’ll see you inside.”

The small omega paled.

Traitor.

His teacher hobbled away, chuckling to himself.

The familiar smell of caramel and cinnamon greeted Izuku’s senses. It was more than comforting, which made the small omega feel slightly mortified.

Izuku sighed in defeat and turned to face Bakugou, who had a less intense scowl on his face. His suit looked messier than before and the alpha appeared as if he had fought someone to catch up with him.

“What do you want?”

Bakugou didn’t even flinch at Izuku’s tone. “Nothing. I just wanted to-“

Izuku cut him off, crossing his arms. “If you’re to lecture me on my own idiocy, then don’t even try. You don’t even know me.”

“I just want to understand.”

That was enough to make Izuku freeze.

Izuku’s chest tightened as he locked eyes with alpha, who looked less angry than he had been during lunch. “There isn’t anything to understand. I’m doing this for the same reason as anyone else.”

Bakugou’s red eyes glinted. “But I’ve seen you perform, Deku. You fucking love music.”

“Stop calling me that.”

The alpha raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “I like that it pisses you off, so no. And don’t change the subject.”

Izuku scoffed. “Why are you so desperate to understand me? You shouldn’t concern yourself with my wellbeing.”

“Honestly? I have no fucking clue.”

Bakugou’s words hung in the air and floated amongst the tension. Izuku was a bright red as they stared at each other, searching for any sign of challenge.

Izuku swallowed thickly, looking away from the alpha. “Look, I’m well aware of the risks. I’ve been boxing underground for over a year and struggling to learn how to protect myself.”

“What if you get bitten, though?” Bakugou’s voice was rough.

The small omega sighed, anxiously rubbing his palm with his thumb. “As I said earlier, they would have to catch me first.”

Bakugou nodded after a moment, still studying him. “I still don’t understand your fucking need to be reckless. I also don’t get how everyone seems so fucking okay with it!”

“It’s not your job to worry about me.”

The alpha chuckled at that. “But someone obviously fucking needs to. I don’t give a shit about what your supposed friends think, but you’re going to be eaten alive tonight.”

Izuku’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The small omega hummed and took a few steps forward. Bakugou froze, his breath quickening as Izuku’s face became centimeters away from his own.

I hate that he smells so nice.

Izuku chuckled, pulling away from the surprised alpha. “Then I guess you’ll have to watch. I don’t need your concern and I certainly don’t need your fucking protection, Kacchan.”

Bakugou blinked, still processing. “What the fuck did you just call me?!”

“Kacchan.” Izuku purred smugly, stepping back. “Good luck on your match tonight. Not that you’ll need it, of course.”

The alpha snapped out of his daze, his skin flushing at the compliment. “Hold on a damn second, shitty Deku-“

Izuku ignored him and walked briskly towards the entrance to the venue. His own heart was racing in his chest from the interaction, especially since Bakugou was obviously just as enamored as him.

He glanced back, smirking softly.

“I’ll see you later, Kacchan.”

*********

*********

K A T S U K I

“-and it was like his brain short-circuited.”

“No shit?! I would’ve paid cash to see that!”

“So manly, Bakubro!”

Katsuki growled loudly as his idiots ran around him in circles. Todoroki, who had been re-telling the events of lunch, smirked at him with as much smugness his stupid face could muster.

Nobody was doing their fucking job.

Sero and Mina were supposed to be preparing the med-kit supplies for the match, but they were fucking around and wrapping bandages around Kaminari’s head. Kirishima was supposed to be talking strategy with him, but he was talking excitedly with Todoroki.

And that half-n-half bastard?

He was reveling in Katsuki’s embarrassment.

“I swear to fucking god…” Katsuki huffed, his eye visibly twitching. “I will fucking end each and every one of you if you don’t shut the fuck up!”

Everyone froze.

Kirishima laughed awkwardly, obviously trying to ease the tension. “Don’t be so angry, Bakubro. We’re all just excited that you’re finally interested in somebody…”

Katsuki flushed a bright red. “I’m not fucking interested in that shitty nerd Deku! I just don’t want to see a weak bastard get eaten alive!”

“Sure, Blasty, sure.” Mina muttered sarcastically.

Don’t commit homicide.

Don’t commit homicide.

Sero looked at Katsuki with an indifferent expression, a used roll of bandages in his hand. “You’re acting like being interested is a bad thing. We’re not saying that you wanna fuck the dude, Bakugou.”

Katsuki grumbled loudly, trying to hide his embarrassment.

I totally fucking do, and that’s what’s embarrassing.

“…unless you do…”

The red-eyed alpha clenched his jaw and growled indignantly in Kirishima’s direction. “I totally fucking don’t, Shitty Hair! Who the fuck would even be into a shitty nerd like Deku?!”

Kirishima, Mina, and Todoroki shared a glance.

Sero and Denki simply snorted.

“I thought he was cute.” Todoroki spoke evenly, his eyes challenging Katsuki. “I found his confidence quite attractive.”

Katsuki stiffened, his stomach churning at the idea of Deku and Icy-Hot interacting at all. Red hot jealousy bloomed in his chest and spread like a wildfire throughout his body.

I think the fuck not.

“Someone looks jealous.” Mina sang smugly, making Katsuki scoff.

Todoroki hummed in agreement.  “He does. If I wasn’t emotionally invested in an omega from my office, I’d pursue Midoriya out of spite.”

Kirishima perked up at the news. “You’re interested in an omega? Since when?!”

And just like that, the focus shifted.

Katsuki silently got to his feet and walked around the small locker-room. His match wasn’t till the end of the tournament, but he usually watched other matches with Kirishima and critiqued their strategy.

It’s a tradition at this point.

What the fuck happened earlier?

Deku stood so fucking close to him. All Katsuki could smell was chocolate and cherries with the faintest hint of vanilla, which hadn’t been noticeable before. His stupidly cute face was so close that Katsuki could’ve kissed him.

And then he fucking left.

Deku left and turned back with a stupid smirk that screamed sexual innuendos in Katsuki’s direction. He called the alpha a ridiculous name, and Katsuki fucking let him.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Alright, bro. You ready to go watch some matches?”

Katsuki snapped out of his memory-filled daze and grunted in response. “Let’s go watch some losers, Shitty Hair. I need to relax before I kick Togata’s ass tonight.”

Kirishima grinned. “And maybe impress a certain omega?”

“Shut up.”

Both alphas headed out of the locker-room and towards the arena. There was a specific box that Enji rented at every tournament specifically so he could watch. He didn't seem to mind that Katsuki did the same thing.

Even if he did, Katsuki didn’t care.

The sound of screaming fans, alphas and omega alike, immediately made Katsuki cringe. He could barely make out a few words, but he didn’t care enough to process any of them.

In the ring, an alpha female and a beta female were kick-boxing.

We’re still in this part of the tournament.

Good.

“OH FUCK! Hagakure delivers a stunning roundhouse kick!”

Katsuki took a seat a little ways away from Enji and focused on the match. It was Yaoyorozu vs Hagakure. He had seen them in regular boxing, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise to see them deviate sometimes.

As a beta, Hagakure was shorter and relied heavily on her legs. She was known for being a skilled southpaw, so upper-arm-strength wasn’t out of the question.

Yaoyorozu was one of the few female alphas that Katsuki’s met in his life. She could be jumpy at times, but she also struggled with predicting/preparing for her opponents moves. She relied on her height to get in close and hardly receive any damage to her face.

Katsuki fought her once or twice. She’s definitely skilled.

“I think Hagakure strained her left leg.” Katsuki murmured, watching the way that the beta favored her left side.

Kirishima narrowed his eyes and leaned forward.  “I think you’re right. Yaoyorozu hasn’t noticed yet, though.”

Katsuki shrugged. “She will. Eventually.”

Sure enough, Yaoyorozu glanced at Hagakure’s feet and her eyebrows furrowed in surprise. As the beta pulled back to land another kick, the female alpha hit her in the face with multiple jabs.

As soon as Hagakure was distracted, Yaoyorozu landed a harsh kick to her left leg and swept them out from under her.

The beta didn’t get back up.

As the crowd and commentator went wild, Katsuki sat back and glanced at Kirishima. “I told you that Ponytail would notice. She’s been training.”

“It’s a good thing that we didn’t bet this time.”

“Yeah. You would’ve fucking lost.”

Before Kirishima could respond, the familiar sound of an intermission rang through the air. They had about ten minutes till the next match, so the sound was to let people know that there was a break.

Katsuki cringed at the sound.

“After our break, we’ll see the professional debut of Midoriya Izuku against a crowd favorite, Monoma Neito!”

And that was enough to make Katsuki freeze.

Oh fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Monoma was an arrogant bastard that Katsuki hates with every fiber of his being. He was an alpha with a history of distaste for omegas, leading to an ever-growing fan base of shitty alphas.

Not only would he hate Deku, but he would try and rile him up the whole time.

This wouldn’t be a fair fight.

“Bakugou? You look pale.”

Katsuki snapped out of his daze and locked eyes with Kirishima. “I’m fucking fine, Shitty Hair. Monoma just pisses me off.”

Kirishima’s gaze softened. “You don’t have to watch, you know? I can just tell you what happened after the match is over.”

“I don’t need your pity. I’m fine.”

“Okay, bro. Whatever you say.”

*********                      

*********

*********

I Z U K U

“There. Feel tight enough?”

Izuku took his gloved hand away from Uraraka and moved his wrists. “They feel great. Thanks for being here, Uraraka.”

Uraraka grinned brightly, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail as she went over Izuku’s things again. “Of course! Iida and I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Deku! Plus, Aizawa threatened to ground us if we didn’t……”

Sounds about right.

“Midoriya! Where is your mouth guard?!”

Izuku glanced over at Iida, who had a professional-looking med-kit in hand. “I put it in my bag…I think…”

Iida sighed and bolted to Izuku’s gym bag, muttering things under his breath. He and Uraraka had been his friends ever since high school, long before Izuku’s mom got sick.

They graduated a little over a year ago.

Now Uraraka is attending University to be a teacher and Iida is studying to be a doctor. Sometimes, the older alpha will come over and give Izuku’s mom a once-over. His family helps out a lot with her treatment.

But not enough.

Which is why Izuku is here in the first place.

“Your mouth-guard is important, Midoriya!” Iida chided, handing the omega a green piece of plastic.

Izuku hung his head, slightly embarrassed that the alpha was reprimanding him. “I was training late last night. After the stuff this morning, I couldn’t remember if I packed it or not.”

Uraraka grinned, her eyes glinting mischievously. “Speaking of which….I saw you and Bakugou in front of the venue.”

Oh god.

“And it seemed pretty flirtatious, Deku.”

Izuku flushed a bright crimson, resisting the urge to hide his face. “It wasn’t flirting! He was just being stupidly overprotective when he didn’t have the right!”

Uraraka smirked. “Alphas tend to be protective over people they care about. Or, in your case, people they are attracted to.”

“I don’t think it’s like that.”

His best friend gave him a look before looking behind him. “Sensei?! What was your impression of Bakugou when you met him?”

Toshinori, who had been talking with a few betas, looked in their direction and grinned as he walked over. “Young Bakugou was very outspoken about his concern with Izuku’s second gender. He’s quite enamored.”

“My point exactly!”

Before Izuku could argue, a female referee appeared in the entrance to the locker-room.

It’s time.

**

**

Izuku feels nauseous.

The small omega can hear the crowd screaming as his opponent is announced, but his brain can barely process any of it. His silk robe (an emerald color) clung to his curves and covered his freckled skin.

Since he’s no longer underground, there’s no need for the bunny mask.

Then his name is announced and he’s shoved into the shark-infested water. Izuku focuses his gaze on the ring, acutely aware of his team following behind him in quick succession.

Izuku can feel the disgusted stares among the screaming.

“You’ll do great, my boy.”

Toshinor’s voice was gentle and firm as he made Izuku look at him. He looked proud and confident in his abilities, which made the omega feel better.

Izuku swallowed thickly as his robe was pulled off of him. “I’ll win. For you and for my mom.”

“I know you will.”

Izuku hugged him and turned to enter the ring.

His opponent is a short but burly alpha who was obviously slow on his feet. His blond hair was parted and his pale eyes were full of amused disgust.

“Alright, boys,” The referee crooned, her black hair tied back. “I want a clean and fair fight. No funny business or I will dish out some punishments.”

Izuku nodded, studying the alpha in front of him.

Monoma, however, ignored the omega’s attempt to touch gloves and retreated to his corner. He was smirking in Izuku’s direction, shamelessly checking out every inch of his body.

“And…FIGHT!”

Izuku stepped forward, carefully guarding his face and waiting for Monoma to make the first move. He needed a strategy, above all else.

Monoma smirked. “I didn’t think they’d make it this easy. Omegas can’t fight, doll. It’s a known fact.”

The small omega ignored him, staying carefully light on his feet as they circled each other. It was becoming obvious that Monoma just liked hearing himself talk, so he had to wait for an opening.

“You’re not mated? How pathetic.”

There.

His eyes flicker to the crowd when he talks. He’s speaking loud enough for them to hear, meaning that he wants to put on a show.

Monoma chuckled some more. “What? Too scared to make the first move? I can do this all-“

Izuku lunged and landed a right hook to the alpha’s jaw.

Retreat.

The small omega immediately retreated as Monoma stumbled back in surprise. The crowd fucking lost it, screaming a mix of cheers and curse words.

Monoma huffed, growling lowly in Izuku’s direction.

Then he charged.

Izuku dodged, guarding his face as Monoma initiated an onslaught of jabs and pummels. Sweat gathered on his brow and his breathing sped up as he looked for an opening.

There.

Izuku brought his leg up and kicked Monoma in the gut.

The larger alpha gasped in surprise, but that was the opening Izuku needed. In quick succession, the small omega hit him with three jabs and a left hook.

Not without consequence, though.

“You fucking bitch!!”

Monoma growled loudly and landed a solid left hook to Izuku’s face.

Pressure, pain, and high-pitched ringing erupted from his right side. Izuku grunted in a mix of surprise and pain, immediately retreating to his corner and settling into a guarding stance.

In his confusion, Izuku was attacked from the right side again.

Two kicks and a mix of punches pummeled themselves into Izuku’s stomach, making the small omega choke and gasp.

“Enough! Back off!”

Izuku gasped, still standing upright as the referee pulled Monoma back. He could taste blood in his mouth, but his adrenaline was too high to feel any pain.

My strength is in my legs.

I need to aim my kicks high enough to land on his face. The nose is the most sensitive, so it would be my safest bet.

Izuku hardened his gaze and glared at the alpha in front of him.

Monoma charged, heading straight for Izuku’s right side. This time, however, the small omega was prepared and effectively slipped.

As he ducked under, Izuku moved and delivered a high-kick to Monoma’s face. The alpha choked and stumbled backward, grasping his face as blood immediately started to pour.

Before the alpha can recover, Izuku charges and delivers strikes to Monoma’s jaw.

DING! DING!!

“That’s the bell! To your corners!”

Izuku backed off and retreated to his corner, sweating like a pig and gushing blood from his brow.

He sat down, allowing his team to work.

“You’re doing great, Deku!”

Uraraka’s voice sounded close by as Iida and Toshinori crowded him. The alpha got to work on bandaging his eyebrow as the beta placed the water spout between his bloody lips.

Izuku panted wildly, drinking the water. “He needs to get close to land a hit, sensei. I fucked up his nose, though.”

“You did.” Toshinori supplied, pulling the water away. “Don’t forget to parry. Meet his hits head on.”

Right.

“2nd round! On your feet!”

Izuku took a deep breath and got to his feet. He could see better without the flow of blood in his eyes, so he definitely noticed the look of hatred Monoma gave him.

Monoma looked pissed.

DING! DING!!

“Fight!”

Monoma moved first this time, furiously charging Izuku like a raging bull. Instead of dodging or slipping, the small omega met his kick head on.

Their legs clashed, which Monoma clearly didn’t expect.

Izuku used his body weight to shove the alpha backward, giving himself enough room to land a few side-kicks. He kept his moves fast and precise, knowing that any wasted second could make him lose.

Monoma swung, but he overcalculated.

Izuku dodged and landed a harsh upper-cut to the jaw. He could feel the crunch of bones and teeth, which was more than satisfying.

After that, Monoma didn’t stand a chance.

Before the alpha had a chance to recover, Izuku shoved him back with another side kick and prepared himself to finish the fight.

Roundhouse.

Izuku leaned back and put his entire body weight into the kick itself. He aimed high, specifically for Monoma’s broken nose, and fucking succeeded with a perfect landing. It was fucking perfect!

Monoma crumpled into a heap, completely unconscious.

“That’s a TKO! Midoriya wins the match!”

Izuku stumbled backward as the cheers rang loudly through the air. His right ear was still ringing, but he definitely heard most of them.

As he was swarmed by his team, Izuku glanced upward.

Katsuki Bakugou was watching and yelling animatedly from a private box. His face was red and he looked pumped as he grinned in Izuku’s direction.

That was the last thing Izuku saw before losing consciousness.

*************

******

K A T S U K I

“Holy fucking SHIT!”

Katsuki watched as Deku’s team dragged him out of the ring, but his mind was running a mile a minute.

Despite taking multiple hits, Deku’s form was fucking perfect. Every move he made was carefully calculated and planned, along with a surprising amount of raw fucking power.

It was hot as fuck.

“Did you fucking see that!?” Kirishima was just as hyped as Katsuki, sounding hoarse from the amount of screaming they’d done.

Katsuki nodded, almost breathless as he glanced at his best friend. “I’ve never seen anyone TKO Monoma. I could probably fucking do it too, but Jesus fucking Christ.”

Kirishima met his gaze, smirking.

Oh no.

“He didn’t need your protection after all, bro.”

Katsuki swallowed thickly, shooting a mock glare in Kirishima’s direction before getting to his feet. “Shut the fuck up. Deku may have kicked that bastard’s ass, but he barely held up.”

Kirishima raised an eyebrow. “And where are you going?”

“I still have a fight to prepare for, dumbfuck.”

***********

**

[goldenslumbersfanfiction]

If you're taking prompts, I'd love to see your take on Dani reuniting with Judy after Bly.

Read it here on AO3

//

It’s Carson who calls you first.

When you hear his voice on the other end of the phone, you feel like you could sing and cry at the same time. You feel like you should have called him ages ago, but you also feel like there never would have been enough time that would have felt right; too little time turning quickly into too much time between then and now.

Every time you’d think about him, you’d remember that the last time you saw him was about a week after the funeral. He used Eddie’s key to your house and found you right there on the couch. You hadn’t showered in five days, because he would always be in your bathroom mirror, and you couldn’t undress under his gaze. You weren’t making much sense, everything was a blur, but you must have gotten something across, because Carson came into the bathroom with you and held up a giant bath towel to block you from the mirror while you undressed and got under the hot spray, and he ordered pizza and a few penne vodka dishes that would heat up well for you for the next couple of days. He watched a movie with you, hugged you goodbye, and that was it.

But it’s years later, and you’ve traded one ghost for another, and he had asked your mother for your new number so he could call you for your birthday and catch up, because he just found a bunch of old photos from when you were all little, and he misses you.

So you talk, and it’s wonderful, and you missed him too. And he calls you again the next week, and it becomes a regular, beautiful thing you do every Sunday you can, and you talk about movies a lot, but you talk about everything. After a couple of months, you tell him about Jamie, and he tells you that he’s proud of you. He never asks you if you didn’t love Eddie, and you’re grateful, because he knows you did, so much, but he also knows that it takes time to learn who you are, and there shouldn’t be any guilt in that. He tells you about this guy that he recently broke up with, and you are shocked and delighted when he also tells you which presumed-straight boys from your high school he was making out with in the bathrooms during study hall.

It feels like something holy and uplifting, your phone calls with Carson. It feels like forgiveness and reconciliation and it feels like healing.

It’s an accident, one day, when Judy answers the phone.

You called Carson’s house to talk about My Blue Heaven which just came out last week. He told you that you had to go see it and call him back to talk about it. You were partial to Pretty Woman, which came out earlier that year, but you were ready to hear his tirade about how Steve Martin is the comedic genius of your generation, and how could it not be your favorite movie of the year.

This was the conversation you were ready for when Judy’s voice comes through the end of the receiver, and you feel as if you have been plunged into cold water at the shock of it. But her sweet voice still sounds like a particular kind of home, still holds your heart, even though she’s asking if anyone is on the line because you are silent, stunned by it, and it takes you a second to recalibrate, to find your voice again.

“Judy?”

“Yes?”

“Judy it’s...”

“Danielle?”

It surprises you how quickly she identifies you, because you don’t think Carson has told her about your phone calls. But you suppose, she did watch you grow, has known your voice as a little girl and as a teenager and as a woman, has heard it from across dinner tables, shouting on school playgrounds, has heard it through sore throats and through tears and through happiness.

Carson’s not home right now, but she tells you she just swung by to pick up some Tupperware that she sent him home with last week and needs back for a potluck tomorrow, but what a lucky coincidence, because she’s so happy to hear your voice. It strikes you how there she is, in his life, in his house, answering his phone, how close Carson has always been to her when he’s been talking to you. The idea of reaching out to her always seemed like something so far away, something so beyond what you were capable of reaching for, and so you lost all sense of what it might look like, sound like, feel like, to just tell her about your day and know she’s listening with all the love in her heart for you, even after all this time.

You talk to her for a little while. You tell her about The Leafling, about your business partner, about the Vermont winters and how she would absolutely hate them because she hates shoveling snow. She updates you on all of her sons and their new children or their new homes or jobs, and she talks about Eddie too, with a fondness that could only come with time.

But she tells you she’s planning a trip to New York with a bunch of her friends from church in a couple of months, just to see the sights and go to some Broadway shows, have Junior’s cheesecake, and a Nathan’s hot dog in Coney Island, but not to ride the Cyclone like some of her other crazy friends, her head would fall of if she did, she says, but she’d love to see you while she’s somewhat nearby.

You’d love to see her, too. You want to see her, need to, more than you ever thought you could need something that you didn’t know you needed just twenty minutes ago.

There’s a twinge in the back of your head, a tickle, a feeling, a sympathy, and perhaps, a jealousy, that you have not been forgotten by this woman who loved you a lifetime ago. That you have not been discarded or moved on from or buried. You’ve co-existed with this feeling for nearly four years now, and she doesn’t remember, but she feels, and you know her worries and her agonies well, and you know she was abandoned. But the lady from the lake is also you now, so she can feel what you feel as well if you let her, and so you share this with her because you think she might need it just as much as you do. You let her participate in this feeling of being missed and loved and remembered, and you let her run her hands along the fondness in your chest, let her wrap her arms around the way your eyes start to sting as you feel it fully.

Judy gives you her home phone number, just in case you forgot it, as if you ever could, like it isn’t burned into your memory, like the last four digits aren’t the PIN for your debit card. She tells you to call, and you can set something up.

You talk to Judy a few more times over the next couple of months, but unlike your conversations with Carson, you seem to have an unspoken understanding that you’ll share deeper updates when you’re face to face, heart to heart. You decide to meet her in New York in October. It’s Jamie’s favorite time to go on long drives, when the roads are surrounded with red, orange, yellow, green trees and blue sky for miles and miles, and she can let the windows down and feel the cool crisp air against her skin.

Carson jokes that you always liked Judy best, that of course you're seeing her first, when he’s been talking to you for months. You tell him it’s only because Judy agreed that Pretty Woman was better than My Blue Heaven, obviously, but that he is welcome to visit you in Vermont any time he wants. June, perhaps, and he laughs so loud, and tells you he’ll absolutely take you up on it, and you love this idea, of creating a new kind of life, an honest life, with Carson as your friend. You hope that Eddie would be happy, that he’d be as proud of it as you are, but it’s okay that you’ll never know.

You close the shop for the weekend and drive down to New York on a Friday, and when you get to the hotel, it all sort of starts to hit you a little bit more than it has before. Jamie can tell, and when you’re standing there in the middle of the room, between the crisp made bed and the window, unsure of what to do with any of your limbs or any of your thoughts, Jamie comes up to you and puts her arms around you, and you are so thankful that you have her. You are so thankful that Jamie is here for you, for this.

She had met your mother a couple of years ago, and it went about as well as you expected it to. But it’s Jamie, and she knows that Judy matters more, somehow. It’s Jamie, and she knows you better than anyone else, and the only other person you have ever been able to say that about, before her, was Judy.

Jamie takes you out, and your nerves about tomorrow aren’t forgotten, but they are at bay, and you have a beautiful night out with her. You go for a walk along the Hudson River after dinner, and you’re both tired when you get back to the hotel, but not tired enough to not take advantage of this king sized bed, and Jamie proves to you how much she loves you, how she’s right here for you, so close, and you prove it right back.

You sleep so well that night, curled up against Jamie’s skin, the only place you have ever truly felt like you belonged, aside from under Judy’s roof, and you know that the reason you are anxious to see her again tomorrow is only because you are worried she won’t be a safe place for you anymore. You had decided that you would be nothing but honest with her, and you are worried that she won’t recognize who you’ve become, will decide not to love you, will say goodbye to you after your lunch, disappear around a corner, and that’ll be the end of it.

When you tell all of this to Jamie in the early morning light, and she wraps her arms around your waist, kisses your neck where she’s tucked, and tells you that yes, it’s all possible, that this could happen, but that she knows how wonderful you are, how beautiful and perfect you are, and anyone who knows you a tenth as well as she does couldn’t ever turn away from you if they knew what was good for them. You’re blushing and smiling and hiding your face in the pillow, and you don’t know how it’s possible that Jamie can say things like that and make you feel so shy and freshly in love, when you’re lying here naked with her with a ring on your finger with years of nights and mornings just like this behind you.

You eventually get out of bed, and you dress, and the morning passes in a bit of a blur, and you kiss Jamie goodbye as you head out to lunch at the restaurant you picked near Judy’s hotel, and when you see her, she is standing alone on the sidewalk outside, looking up and down the street for you, excited and nervous like you are. She hasn’t spotted you yet, and you just take a moment to look at her, this woman who took you in and raised you like it was the easiest thing in the world.

You feel it again, that twinge, that tickle, in the back of your head, when you let the lady see that this woman is searching for you. It’s a mother’s love, and that impossibly never ending search for one more chance to hold her daughter close.

When you see her, it feels, at once, like no time has passed, and like you have both lived lifetimes apart, but she pulls you in to one of her too-tight hugs, and you sink into her and she smells exactly the same, and she feels just right, and you think, if you close your eyes, you might be eleven years old again, or nine, or twenty-two. You might be in her living room, or at your high school graduation, or at her son’s funeral, or here, on the corner of 24th and Madison after not having seen her for five years, but you know that you are home.

She holds your face between her palms, and gets a good look at you, runs her hands down your arms to your hands to squeeze them in hers, and she briefly falters when she feels the ring on your finger, looks down, and then back up at you with a surprised, but absolutely joyous smile.

“Oh...yeah.” You laugh a little, bring your hands up to your chest, fumble with the ring a bit. “I’m sort of...”

She looks at you with so much love, says, “Oh, Danielle. I can’t wait to hear everything.”

So you tell her, as much as you can, you’re as honest as you can be while leaving out the tickle in the back of your head, while omitting the last twenty minutes of her son’s life. Some information is best withheld, you think. Some lies spun out of love and protection. This lie, this omission, would have Eddie’s blessing, and so you feel no guilt.

You tell her about Jamie, and she is a bit surprised, but not upset. She’s so happy for you, and you can see it in her face, the truth of her joy when she asks to know more about her.

You tell her how you met, how after Bly you stuck together, travelled a bit, settled, opened a store together. When you tell her about the small ceremony you and Jamie had for yourselves on a trip to Utah, where you exchanged rings, just the two of you and the Trembling Giant at sunset, she says something you’ve never had the courage to voice, even after all your years thinking about it, after all the times you’ve dove deep into the pain of it with Jamie by your side.

“You never would have met Jamie, had he...you know.”

Had he lived.

Had he lived, you never would have been this happy.

She says it so matter-of-factly, so assuredly, but still so sad, and you think about something Jamie had told you the last time she grew a moonflower. How it’s meant to die, meant to break down and rise back up, but the memory of it...that’s what lasts. The work you put into it doesn’t go away, just because the bloom has wilted and crumbled. That’s why you grow a moonflower. To tend to it, to love it, for the brief time it’s here, because it’s worth it. You send that material back to the earth then, and you see what will grow next from its atoms.

“No, I...I probably wouldn’t have met her.”

“Well...” she sighs, “Maybe it was him you know? Maybe he...wanted to make sure you’d have someone. He would have wanted to make sure you were loved.”

“Maybe it was, yeah.” It’s a lovely idea, that Eddie might have guided you from another realm with a forgiving and loving hand right into Jamie’s embrace. You don’t have the heart to tell her that she isn’t wrong, that it was his gravity you were trying to escape when you found yourself in Jamie’s orbit.

“Danielle?”

“Yeah?”

She takes a deep shaky breath, and you feel like, maybe, she’s thought about what she’s about to say to you. Thought about it for some time.

“Honey, I want you to know...that you’ll always have a place in my family. But I don't want you to think that...that you owe me, or anyone, any sort of connection to Edmund. I really...I really just want you to be happy, and...I mean, he was my boy, you know? I think about him every day and I’ve got all of our memories, and that’s enough for me. I’m always going to be here to talk about him, if you want, but I don’t want you to think that’s the only reason I love you.”

Your throat is so tight, you can not possibly reply, but it’s Judy, and you don’t need to speak for her to understand you, so you just nod, and you wipe the tears that have fallen down your cheeks away with your napkin, and she reaches out and you place your hand in hers. You tell her that you love her, too.

It’s wonderful, getting to know her a little bit better like this. It’s beautiful, to learn about her as a woman, as a person, and not just as the mother who would always pack extra snacks in Eddie’s lunches because she knew he’d give them to you, not just as the women who always had the guest room made up for you, or who grounded her kids when they broke curfew, but as someone you can love outside of all of that, and for it all, too.

When you get home to Jamie, you are tired, and drained, but so full. You lie in bed and she lays behind you and you doze off at some point, but she’s still right there when you wake up, with her arm around you and her lips on your shoulder pressing kisses into your skin.

The rest of your time in New York is short, but lovely, and you go back home on Sunday afternoon, and it’s weeks before you realize that the tickle in your head has been oddly quiet, oddly introspective, and the lady has been much softer and kinder since you’ve reconnected with Judy.

You don’t know much, but you know she was left behind, by a daughter perhaps, and you hope you can show her that the world isn’t always cruel. That even when people do forget, it’s not because they really want to, but it’s always because people can only carry so much, and they’re making room for things. It’s always because they’re making space in their arms to hold other people close.

You think that the lady is contemplating this new idea that you’ve let her have these last few weeks. Reconnection. You think she’s learning that there’s forgiveness in it, that there’s undying love, and pain, and humility, and all types of wonderful things. You think she’s learning to be a little bit kinder, and with every batch of photos you exchange with Judy, every voice message you come home to on your answering machine, every time she makes you laugh and you feel like you’re fifteen again, you notice the swirling gravity of the lady stills, and you feel her rest, and inhale, and feel it all, too.

[isitgintimeyet]

Just A Friend

Previous

AO3

Another Sunday, another chapter. Hope it’s a good weekend for you all, despite these uncertain times. I always intended this story to be a bit of fluffy light relief from the real world. Thanks for all the support for it.

There will probably be another 3 chapters after this, depending on how the characters behave. I cant seem to make them do what I want sometimes!

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

Chapter 11: From Marriage to Mackenzie

It’s 1pm and I’m in a hotel room, still in a bathrobe, sipping Buck’s Fizz whilst a hairdresser wrestles with my wayward curls, finally managing to corral them into some sort of recognisable hair style.

Geillis is sitting on the edge of the bed incongruously dressed in tiara and bathrobe, her hair arranged in an elaborate updo. I catch her eye through the dressing table mirror and smile before my vision is obscured by a miasma of hairspray.

A few final tweaks of my curls and it’s done. I am just amazed that my hair can be cajoled into such glossy, bouncy curls, held behind one ear by an ornately decorated comb. With suitable compliments and thanks, Geillis and I bid goodbye to the hairdresser.

The bride stands up and adjusts the belt of her robe. She seems the epitome of calm.

“Are you not nervous, Geillis? You’ll be walking down the aisle in about an hour’s time.”

“Weel, I am a wee bit worried about a couple of things,” she admits. “I dinna ken how ma cousin Janie will behave. She may try tae proposition every man under the age of seventy five. And as fer Dougal’s Uncle Eric—he has been known tae get steamin’ drunk and puke in the rose beds. But about the marrying? Nah, I dinna have any nerves about that. I want tae spend ma life wi’ Dougal and that’s what today is all about. I have nae worries about making that commitment. He’s the one fer me. When ye ken, ye ken. Trust me, Claire.”

The pocket of her bathrobe begins to buzz. She quickly pulls out her phone and reads the message.

“I’d best go. That was Mam, fretting about something or other. Are ye ok getting dressed on yer own?”

“I’ve managed for the past twenty nine years or so. I dare say I can manage another day.” I sigh theatrically.

“I ken. Ye can manage on yer own. Ye always do. But thanks fer being here with me today. It means a lot tae have the people who mean the most tae me around,” she leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “But remember what I said, Claire, when ye ken, ye ken. Dinna ignore it.”

Pausing at the interconnecting doorway, she does a quick body shimmy and grins. “Woo hoo! I’m getting married. Canna believe it’s here now,”

From the adjoining room, I can hear a shouted response. “Geillis Duncan, ye get here now. Yer mam reckons that makeup lassie has done her eyeliner wonky. It looks fine tae me. Can ye come and talk some sense in tae the daft cow?”

“Alright, Da, I’m coming.” Geillis yells back before leaving to deal with her parents.

I sit down and study my bridesmaid’s dress, now hanging on the wardrobe door. I’m getting excited about the day ahead. Probably not as much as Geillis, obviously, but a host of butterflies appears to have taken residence in the pit of my stomach.

I’m truly thrilled for Geillis to be marrying Dougal—they love each other so much. But, also, it’s scary to me. She is willing, eager even, to commit to one person, to base her future life, her future happiness on one man. If they should ever leave…well, I’m not sure I’d be able to cope with that. If you love too hard, you can hurt too much. Trust me on that, I know. People leave you. Don’t give your heart to anyone, keep it hidden away, protected…intact.

The ping from my phone diverts me from this somber train of thought.

I’m downstairs at the hotel. Can you come and say hello?

I quickly type:

Come up to the 2nd floor. I’ll meet you by the lift.

Making sure the keycard is in my pocket, I slip my feet into the hotel’s complimentary slippers and shuffle out to meet Jamie.

I’m already waiting as the lift door opens and he emerges. My first thought is oh wow, as is my second...and third. He has made an effort for this wedding, and it’s certainly paid off. Eschewing the more formal Prince Charlie style, he’s wearing a charcoal grey jacket and waistcoat, perfectly matching the grey in his kilt. A crisp white shirt and burgundy tie complement the secondary colours in the tartan. His sporran is black leather, heavily etched or embossed. I can’t quite make out the detail. Then I feel myself blush as I realise I have been clearly staring at his...er, lower body. I look up quickly.

Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to have noticed. He looks me up and down and smiles. “Nice outfit,” he comments drily. “Is the bride wearing white towelling too? What’s the theme? Salon chic?”And is that part of the design?” He points to an orange stain on the front of my robe. I pull a face and tie the belt tighter, trying to tuck the offending piece of material out of sight.

“Must have spilled a drop of my Buck’s Fizz.”

“Drinking already? Dinna be staggering down the aisle.”

He reaches out towards my hair and pauses for a second before making a random circular motion with his hand. “And this…I like yer hair. It’s verra…verra…” he searches for the word. “... asymmetric.”

“Thank you,” I hold the ‘skirt’ of my robe and bob a little curtsy. “That’s totally what we were going for—asymmetric.”

He laughs. “Nah, seriously. Yer hair and yer makeup look grand. I’m sure ye’ll look lovely in yer dress.”

I gesture to my room. “I’d best finish getting ready.”

“Aye, I’ll see ye downstairs.” He presses the button for the lift.

“By the way, you look grand too.” I try to say it in an understated way. It’s true, but I don’t want him to read anything into the statement.

The lift arrives and he steps inside. As the doors close, he fires a parting shot. “Especially the sporran, eh?”

*********

Now in my bridesmaid’s dress, I practice a couple of pirouettes in front of the mirror before hearing a quick knock on the door to the adjoining room.

“Ye ready, Claire? Mam’s jes’ gone down. Only us three left.”

I walk through to the other room to be met by a riot of open suitcases, bags and boxes. A variety of towels, dressing gowns and footwear seem to be carpeting the floor.

“‘S ok,” Geillis’ voice comes from behind me. “It’s no’ ma problem. I’m no’ sleeping here tonight. I’ll be in the bridal suite. This’ll be Mam and Dad’s room.”

I turn to see my best friend now fully dressed and ready. Her father is hovering next to her, clad in kilt and full formal regalia. I always knew she would win that battle.

As beautiful as she looks, the thing that really strikes me is the way her father is watching her, with such love and pride. She returns his gaze and brings her forehead to rest against his cheek.

I swallow hard, fighting the desire to shed a tear. It’s such a precious image, so intimate, but also, I realise that, since Lamb died, I have nobody, no father figure, to share something like this. I feel a momentary pang of, not jealousy, but a feeling of regret over an emotion that I will never get to experience.

And then, just like that, the moment passes.

It always does.

Geillis passes me a creamy white posy tied with a simple ribbon and gathers up her bouquet of peonies, roses and fragrant eucalyptus.

“OK,” she takes a deep breath and breaks into a huge grin. “I think I’m late enough tae get Dougal jes’ a wee bit nervous. Time tae roll.”

*******

The hotel’s orangery provides a perfect setting for the wedding ceremony. Softly diffused sunlight filters through the white muslin drapes at the large windows. A slight breeze wafts the fabric gently, giving tantalising glimpses of the formal gardens outside.

At the end of the room, Dougal and Angus stand beside a large arch of succulent green foliage, staring straight ahead as Geillis and her father begin the procession down the aisle with me following.

Even before he turns to look, I can spot Jamie — his auburn curls are head and shoulders above those around him. He stays still at first, but as we draw near he turns around and grins before doing his funny blink, screwing up his face and closing both eyes, which I have learnt, is Jamie’s attempt at a wink. I return his smile before focussing on the arch getting ever closer.

Dougal appears rooted to the spot, but Angus turns around and watches for a moment before giving me a perfectly executed wink. I smile politely even as I shudder inwardly. The sheer self confidence of that man is beyond belief. Then he disappears from my thoughts as Geillis reaches the arch and passes me her bouquet to hold. The joy on her and Dougal’s faces as they prepare to make their vows is wonderful and I’m so happy to be a part of it all.

***************

They say the sun shines on the righteous. Well, Geillis and Dougal must be exceptionally good, as it’s a perfect summer afternoon. It’s beautifully warm, but not too hot, as all the guests mingle in the gardens, admiring the beautiful surroundings whilst drinking chilled champagne.

The photographer has finished with the formal photographs, so I’m allowed to relax and enjoy a glass or two. I can still spot him wandering around, ready to take more natural, candid shots of the proceedings but nobody seems to mind.

I was initially worried about inviting Jamie to the wedding for a couple of reasons. The first was my friends. Of course, my friends are great, but Anna and Mary can sometimes have an issue with boundaries and I had visions of the ‘conversations’ they might try to have with Jamie — ‘nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition’ unless Anna and Mary are around.

The second reason was that Jamie would literally know only one person at this wedding —me. And that, when I was off doing official ‘wedding stuff’, he would be on his own, billy-no-mates. But, as I look around, I realise I had absolutely nothing to worry about on that score. He has the knack, it seems, to get on with everyone.

At the moment he’s talking to Geillis’s father, laughing and joking like they’re old friends. He notices me looking at him, lifts his empty glass up and points to me. I hold my glass up and nod. He excuses himself and strolls towards the bar.

There’s a slight touch on my elbow. “Hello, dear.”

I draw my attention to the old lady standing next to me—Geillis’ great aunt Frances. I’ve met her on a couple of occasions before and have always enjoyed her company. She’s a straight talker and makes no bones about it. “When ye get tae my age,” I remember her commenting to me “ye dinna have time tae beat about the bush, ye need tae say what ye think.” I like that in a person.

“Hello, how nice to see you.”

“Ye too,dear. I must say ye’re looking awfa bonnie in that dress. It’s a fine colour on ye.”

“Thank you. And you’re looking lovely yourself.”

Frances makes a self deprecating ‘hmph’ sound, dismissing my compliment with a wave of her hand. “Away wi’ ye. Ye do yer best wi’ what ye’ve still got. Which isna much in ma case.”

I shake my head. “Not at—“

But she decides to change the subject and moves on with her next question. “Is that yer young man over there?” She points at Jamie, heading towards us with two glasses of champagne. “He’s a handsome chap, is he no’? Mind ye, that’s no more than ye deserve. Sae, mebbe ye’ll be next?”

“No, we—“

I have no chance to say anything more, before Jamie is by my side and handing me one of the glasses. I take a sip as he notices that Frances has no drink and, without hesitation, he passes the second glass to her.

“Aren’t ye kind… er?” She accepts gratefully.

“Jamie.”

“Weel, Jamie, let me tell ye. It’s been a long while since a good looking young man has brought me a drink. I should make the most of it. Anyway, I was jes’ saying tae our Claire here, how bonnie she looks today. Does she no’?”

She fixes her gaze on Jamie, demanding an answer.

“Aye, she looks lovely.” His eyes meet mine for a second, before I look away and try to change the subject.

“Don’t you think Geillis looks beautiful, Frances?”

But, it seems that Frances has one line of conversation that she is keen to pursue. “Oh aye, she does. But, Jamie, I was jes’ saying tae Claire that mebbe she’ll be next. What d’ye think?”

Fortunately, I’m spared any response as a gong sounds and the maître d’ announces that dinner is served and that everyone should make their way inside to the dining room.

****************

Having narrowly avoided any embarrassment, I am somewhat apprehensive to see Frances at our table. Fortunately, Geillis’ cousin and baby are enough to divert her attention away from any matrimonial prospects that may or may not be on my horizon.

With Jamie sitting by my side, I catch him up on all the behind the scenes activity of my day and we fall into our pattern of easy conversation and gentle banter. From time to time, I can see Frances, opposite, watching us with a look of approval on her face, but she says nothing.

Once the speeches and toasts are over, there’s a palpable change in the guests. Jackets are draped over chair backs, sleeves rolled up and waistcoat buttons undone. I can spot more than one woman moving awkwardly in her chair, struggling to locate the shoes that were eased off out of sight under the table. Cheeks become flushed with an abundance of rich food and tongues become looser with a surfeit of fine wine.

I sip my whisky, savouring its peaty smokiness. Jamie is in a serious rugby related conversation with his neighbour. A rustle of fabric behind me announces the arrival of the bride, a look of frustration on her face.

She greets the table politely before whispering “Can I borrow ye, Claire?”

I make my excuses and follow her into a quieter room.

“What’s up, Geillis? Is everything alright?” I’m concerned that there’s something genuinely wrong.

“It’s his bloody family,” she hisses. “The Mackenzies, if ye give them an inch, they’ll take a fuckin’ mile.”

She takes a deep breath and continues. “Dougal invited his second cousin Gary and his wife tae our evening do. Jes’ the two of them mind. Sae they turn up an hour and a half early and try tae cadge dessert and brandies from the waiters.”

“Where are they now?”

“Och, they’re sitting outside wi’ a couple of spare bottles of wine.” She gestures angrily to the gardens visible through the window. “And they’ll be first in the queue fer the buffet this evening, nae doubt. And what's more, they took it upon themselves tae bring their three bairns too. Weel, I say bairns, but they’re all in their twenties so it’s no’ as if they dinna have a babysitter.”

She finally sits down and lets her shoulders relax.

I take her hand and try to look serious. If this is the worst thing that happens today, that’s not so bad. Although clearly, in Geillis’ eyes, this is a catastrophe. “It’s not going to spoil anything really is it? They didn’t gatecrash the meal or the speeches,” I speak in a soothing tone. “Are you ok now?”

She nods. “Happen ye’re right. I jes’ wanted tae get it off ma chest. And I kent what I was getting in tae wi’ his family. But tae drag Gregory, Alicia and Laoghaire uninvited wi’ them jes’ pisses me off.”

I stare at her. “Laoghaire? Laoghaire Mackenzie?”

“Aye, that’s right. Unusual name, is it no’? Ye dinna find many of them around—thank god.”