#businessman is having the WORST time of his life.

[spiderdotexe]

my phighting ocs from very long ago (doesnt know any phighting lore, has not played phighting in many eons)

[radiance1]

Vlad has been de-aged.

Now, if you were to ask Danny exactly how this happened, he would not be able to answer with 100% accuracy. But he thinks his parents have a hand in this, and you see, if it was just physically it wouldn't be a problem.

But he also has the mental equivalent of a 10-year-old.

A very innocent, 10-year-old, at that.

Vlad didn't seem to remember a whole lot, not his parents, not him, not Amity Park, not his college years, not even how to use most of his powers correctly. The only thing he did manage to remember were his childhood years, his businessman knowledge, high-class etiquette and other high society things.

So an innocent, yet business sharp and cunning 10-year-old.

Now, Danny doesn't quite know how to handle this sudden change, but he does know that he should take this opportunity to poke fun at Vlad and continue poking fun until he's changed back, and that he should keep himself out of Vlad's business and let him deal with this on his own.

He finally kicking back and relaxing, after not having to deal with any of Vlad's schemes whatsoever, and was living his best life. At least, until he saw his parents trying to capture a smaller, more Un-proficient Plasmius when he was eating ice-cream.

...He should just ignore it, they won't do anything bad, I mean, come on. He looks like a kid, what would be the worst they would do? But then again... this is his parents he's talking about, and he was a prime example of what lengths they were willing to go to when concerning a ghost that looks like a child.

Goodbye, Ice-cream. You will be missed.

So he saves him from his parents, getting a parting ecto-shot for his troubles and a kid who seems to be scared out of his mind yet trying to hid it behind a mask of calm and collection. Yet as soon as he turned to leave, Vlad somehow got it into his skull that Danny might be his brother, because he taught Vlad how to go human again by show of example.

He didn't sign up for this.

So now here he is, dragged to a high society Gala held by the Waynes of all people- who managed to be famous enough to even reach past Amity Park's relatively closed off nature- and acting like Vlad's older brother who wasn't picked to succeed Vlad's company in the face of his more business smart younger brother, the older Vlad was said to be sick so he had to send his two sons (who nobody knew he had) to attend in his place.

Danny didn't sign up for this.

He was literally just here to steer the more innocent Vlad away from his ghost-crazy parents, help him get a handle on his powers, and calm him down if they were started going out of wack. He did not sign up for a Gala, but true to Vlad's fruitloopish nature transcending space and time even to when he was child, he effectively weaponized puppy dog eyes to force him into compliance.

He just hopes nothing significant happens at this Gala.

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE CHOI FAMILY HEADCANONS

I seriously pray for you if you're related to Charles or Crystal in some way, your privacy is immediately thrown out of the damn window and you won't ever have a moment to yourself since you'll always have your sister Crystal looking out for you and Charles would make sure Gun, Goo and DG keep an eye out for you too. He'd even ask Kouji to place a tracking device in your phone and ensure he always has access to whatever you're doing on your phone, he's a concerned parent after all and he doesn't trust this toxic world filled with darkness that could corrupt you and put you in danger. Look, he might be a complete scumbag and takes the pleasure of ruining people's lives but you're the apple of his eye and he'll do anything to ensure your safety

Let's start off with Charles Choi as a parental figure for you. He'll be controlling, manipulative and won't be above gaslighting you to spend time with him. He's a businessman after all, he's Elite, when he wants something he gets it no matter what and you're no exception for it. He NEEDS to know what you're doing at every second of the day, he doesn't care how old you are, you could be a literal adult and yet he'd still treat you like a child and infantize you. He's overbearing with his protectiveness for you, you almost feel suffocated in his presence. But you won't even realize he's secretly gaslighting you and making sure you're isolated from other people other than him and your sister and the people that he really trusts, he's really crafty and subtle about this. It's for your own good, he keeps telling himself as he threatens and blackmails one of your so called friends to leave you the hell alone unless they want to end up on the news the next day dead. He doesn't care if he's overbearing for you, he has every RIGHT to be overbearing, truthfully, he doesn't even realize what he's doing is wrong. He firmly believes that he has every right to do this since you're his child after all and he's your guardian and parental figure

He likes it when you rely on him for things, deep down he's slightly worried and nervous you'll grow up too fast and leave him and your sister behind and you won't need him anymore. He can't stand and fathom the thought of you being away from him, his paranoia for your safety and fear of losing you would act in an overdrive. Charles Choi has only one weakness and that's you, the dear apple of his eye. He sees you as some defenseless vulnerable innocent little thing that would get chewed up by the world within mere seconds and he'd be damned if someone dared to take advantage of you. It doesn't matter even if you know how to fight or how well aware you are of everything happening around you, he'll still pat your head in a patronizing manner like you're some kind of child and have a slight amused smirk while you're ranting to him. Silly naive child, you NEED him to take care of you

You won't be allowed to live a normal lifestyle, you'll have private tutors to teach you and the day he'll allow you attend a public school or university would be the day HELL would FREEZE over. He knows what sort of nonsense takes place in schools and universities these days with all those cases of rampant bullying and such. He doesn't want you falling into the hands of some lowly thug with no decorum. Of course, he'd have him killed that same night but still, he isn't going to take the risk and chance of having you get hurt. Your safety matters more than your happiness, you could plead with him as much as you want regarding you wanting to go to a public school to have a normal life and he'd just outright refuse you each and every single time, it's like you're talking to a brick wall with him. By no means is he an emotional man, he has no time for such frivolous nonsense but it just doesn't sit right with him when he imagines you getting hurt and getting scars as thoughts of the worst would flash his mind when he thinks of your life at a public school which would make him even more strict about your safety. He never wants to see the day you cry, it would just...pain him emotionally. If you're crying because of him, it was probably because of something unavoidable and he'll gently shush you and wipe your tears away as he pats your head. However if you're crying because of someone else, well...that person would disappear off the face of the earth, he goes straight for the kill. He's a man of his word and always gets straight to the point without beating around the bush, so one single shot to the head to end whatever lousy scumbag who dared to make your tears spill from your eyes would guarantee him to be dead. Surprisingly he won't let anyone else do his dirty work for him whenever he has to kill someone for messing with you, he needs to feel the satisfaction of watching the light of the world and the life leave the person's eyes as he kills them. Of course, he'll cover the death up by making it look like there was some kind of gang violence going on and blame one of his chess pawns and pay off the police department to keep their mouths shut unless they want to lose their jobs and get blacklisted from every company existing

He loves to spoil you till your heart desires. Ask him whatever you want, except for your privacy and freedom and he'd be more than happy to indulge his expenses for you. You like reading and publishing books? Well, look who managed to get a publishing contract from one of the most famous publishing companies in the country? But of course, you're not allowed to publish anything questionable like romance and such, he thinks you're way too naive for such things and you're young for it. You're also not allowed to use your real name. You're also expected to show him your works before you end up publishing something and of course, you won't need to feel the pressure of the publishers and editors pestering you constantly for new works, you can write at your own leisure. Not unless they want their company to shut down and be on the streets for the rest of their miserable lives. He'll never entertain the idea and thought of someone every daring to dictate your life. Other than him of course, he has that right thanks to his twisted mindset of keeping you safe. You like singing and music? He'll get you the best brands of instruments money can buy and a whole karaoke system for you. He'd love to hear you sing and would have a smile on his face, telling you how proud he is of you for your wonderful and melodious singing, he thinks you sing as sweet as a nightingale. Well, in a way you are a nightingale trapped in a golden cage. If you're into art he'll get you the best quality of brushes and you'll have an unlimited amount of canvases and art supplies for your use. You'll have an entire art studio at the house for yourself and he'll be pleased when you hand him a painting or one of your art works. He would definitely store all your works in a secret room to ensure they don't get ruined and where he'll have access too since other people don't deserve to see your talent, they're undeserving pests who don't have the right to look at you in the eye

You won't ever get wind of what he does behind the scenes regarding the crews and gangs and how he rose to power and such and he'll do whatever the hell it takes to prevent you from finding out the truth about him. You'll be left in the dak regarding all the evil messed up things he does and unless someone wants to lose their tongue, they'd better keep their mouths shut. Also there's no reason for you to work, whatever do you want to work for, don't be silly. However if you really want to work, he make you join his company and you can have your own office just for the sake of it but no actual responsibilities. If you think of applying for jobs elsewhere, he'll pull in some strings to ensure you don't end up getting the job. He doesn't care that he's sabotaging your chances of getting a job, you aren't allowed to be away from him, away from your family, end of discussion

While Charles would handle the killings and brutal stuff, your sister Crystal handles the planning and goes for a more calculated approach from behind the scenes. If you have the habit of maintaining a diary, guess who knows all your secrets now and you've also just sentenced half the people in your diary to death. Look, she loves you and cares for you, in her own twisted manner after all, she inherited her father's possessiveness and obsessive tendencies to protect you after all. Like her dad, she views you as someone who's pure for this world and she wants to keep you sheltered in a safe bubble by whatever means necessary. She might love you but the minute you're up to something she will immediately snitch on you to Charles. Don't ever expect her to take your side though during an argument regarding your feelings of being trapped and such, she'll always side with her dad no matter what and thinks he's doing the right thing by shielding you from the world outside. You'll understand in due time how much they love you

If someone picks on you, she'll find a way to ruin their life socially by spreading allegations and such against that person and ensure their name gets dragged down in the mud. Which honestly isn't a hard thing to do for her. She is borderline insane and crazy, she just masks it like her dad, she'll be breathing down your neck every damn second of the day and she'll always have her eye on whatever you do. She'll have Gun and Goo follow you everywhere and she'll tag along as well. You're not allowed to go anywhere without her. She'll also be able to detect whenever you're lying, her eyes will narrow instantly and stare at you with a stern look on her face like a strict parent till she finds out whatever your intentions are and if they're something she and her dad won't approve of they're shutting it down immediately before that thought of yours can grow into something bigger. Even she has access to your laptop and phone, although the only contacts you're ever allowed to have are your dad, her, Gun, Goo, Kouji and DG, that's IT. Don't even THINK about dating, romance is off the table for you

You might not know about the secret of her two bodies, she prefers to keep it that way and her dad told her to let it remain a secret as well, it'll make it easier for her to be with you at all times. She's experienced a lot of bullying from people because of her weight and thinks society is shallow for prioritizing people's looks and appearances which is why she doesn't want you suffering the same way she did and she'll tell you things that'll give you a negative view of romance. She just doesn't want you getting hurt like she did, she's a protective big sister trying to keep you safe. She won't like it if you hang around Daniel too much, he's always getting in some or the other kind of trouble and the last thing she needs is for you to end up being dragged into his messes and the whole crew nonsense so she'll ensure you maintain a distance from him till she sneakily isolates you from him completely. Don't feel bad, you have her to rely on, your sister is always there to lend a shoulder for supporting you. Overall, Charles and Crystal are borderline insane, psychotic and won't hesitate to wipe out anyone who stands against them or tries to take you away from them. You're the apple of their eye after all...

[loulouwrites]

HELLISH . AFLIE SOLOMONS

summary: alfie's secretary makes the decision to marry, it's a shame her prospective husbands seem to disappear after one meeting warnings: angst, violence, swearing, jealousy, threats, borderline stalking honestly, muderous thoughts, unedited, unrequited love word count: 3.5k a/n: i've been away for a while bc life is hard. i wanted to write a little alfie story not related to the 'home series' and came up with whatever this is so i hope you enjoy. i'm working on a taglist, so if you would like to be included, lmk <3 also lmk if you'd like a part 2 to this, i've already cooked something up!

She had known Alfie Solomons for about three years, and they had been friends since they had met.

Two years into their strange friendship, she had been sacked from her job as a secretary for an Italian businessman, he didn't say why he suddenly decided he didn't require her services, but they both knew. Tensions were rising between the Jewish quarter and Italian quarter in Camden, and everybody was sticking to their own side of town.

When she had told Alfie about it, he had offered her a job immediately - the rising tensions were partly his fault anyways.

Her mother had not been happy when her daughter came home with news she would be working for Alfie Solomons, but when she saw the stack of notes Mr Solomons had given as a 'pay advance', she warmed to the idea.

It was easy work. He had his men for the nitty-gritty stuff, she merely typed up Alfie's ramblings and sent threatening telegrams to people - it was easier than any legitimate job she had ever had, and it paid better, too.

She would often have lunch with Ollie, Alfie's second in command if you wanted to call him that. She was allowed a longer lunch than he was, Ollie wasn't supposed to have a lunch break at all, but if she were talking to him, it was rare they would be interrupted, unless there was an urgent matter to attend to.

Ollie was a good gossip, better than any of the other men in the bakery, Alfie excluded. But, unlike Alfie, Ollie had no interest in her, sexually or romantically, so she enjoyed the time she could spend talking to him, discussing rumours or chatting about their lives outside of work without it turning into something else within minutes.

"Do you think he'll let me leave an hour early?" She asked from where she was perched on the man's desk, swinging her feet back and forth.

"He'd let you leave now if you asked," Ollie replied, rolling his eyes at the girl. It was true, Alfie would probably still pay her if she didn't show up, he'd let her release a group of pigs in his office if she wanted to.

"He's in a mood, though."

"He's always in a mood."

"Not as bad as this," she pointed to their boss' office, where the blinds were pulled up, showing his figure stomping around the small room, throwing pieces of paper and trinkets onto the ground.

"Fuck," she sighed as a loud crash was heard, though they couldn't see what had bared the brunt of the man's rage from their seats.

"Maybe reschedule?" Ollie offered, his eyes not leaving the glass window of Alfie's office.

"I'm just going to ask him," she planted her feet on the ground, ignoring Ollie's protests. "The worst he can do is say no," she shrugged, walking towards the office door.

"That is not the worst he can do," he called after her in an urgent whisper.

She didn't knock when she entered, she never had, and she wasn't about to start now.

A book flew past her face when she stepped inside, and she quickly stepped to the side, it hitting the wall behind her and falling to the floor.

"What did...that Russian book ever do to you?" She asked, and his head snapped up to look at her, his eyes wide.

"Shit, sorry 'bout that, love," he sighed, wiping a hand over his face but she waved him off, moving to sit in one of the chairs at his desk.

"Bad day?"

"Better now," he winked at her, and she rolled her eyes playfully. "What do you want?"

"I want to leave an hour early," she offered him a wary smile, clasping her hands together pleadingly.

"You fuckin' what?"

"Please, Alfie-" she started, but he was up from his seat before she could finish her sentence, pacing up and down the cramped office with his hands on his hips. "It's only an hour, and I'm not doing anything anyway."

"You're not doing anything?" his eyebrows raised as he turned to face her. "You're really admitting that to your boss?"

"Please, Alfie," she stood up, taking a few steps towards him. "I never ask you for anything."

She scowled at the obnoxious laugh he let out in response.

"Never ask me for anything?" his voice raised an octave to mock her. "A pay advance that you still haven't paid back," he help up a finger as he counted. "A weekday off so you can go shopping when it's less crowded, a bonus so you can get your mum a birthday present, a day off when your fucking cat died," he stepped towards her. "Asking me to come to it's fucking funeral."

"You said it was a lovely service," she placed a hand on her chest in offense.

"You know what?" he sighed, rubbing a hand up and down his face. "Just fuck off, yeah?"

"Really?" She smiled, clapping her hands.

"But you will come in an hour early tomorrow to make up for it, or so help me God, I will come to your house and drag you here myself."

It was an empty threat, and they both knew it.

"Thank you, Alfie." She reached to place a kiss on his cheek, not taking offense when he reached to wipe his cheek when she pulled away, already opening the door to leave. "I'll see you bright an early tomorrow."

She couldn't make out what he grumbled after her.

Alfie waited until she had left the bakery to slink out of his office, approaching Ollie's desk, and tapping on it with his knuckles.

"Why'd she want to leave early?" he asked his assistant, not missing the way the younger man sunk down in his seat.

"I don't want to tell you," Ollie replied, sheepishly.

"Ollie," Alfie warned.

"She's meeting up with someone?"

"Ollie."

"A man. She's meeting up with a man, her mum's friend's son or something. Think she's looking to settle down, you know?"

Alfie hummed, a hand coming up to rub his beard. "Interesting," he mumbled, walking back to his office, landing a smack to Ollie's head as he passed.

Her suitor had been a perfect gentleman. Jacob had taken her to a fancy club in a nicer part of London, had bought her dinner and drinks without grumbling about the prices, and had dropped her off at home with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to take her out again the following weekend.

She hadn't thought a man her mother had set her up with would be particularly charming, but she had been proven wrong, the stupid smile she wore on her face all week being proof of that.

She had been thinking of settling down for a while. All of her childhood friends were married with several children at this point, and she didn't miss the sympathetic looks they would give her when she told them she was still unmarried, still childless, and still working.

Marriage was always something she thought would come naturally -as it seemed to do with everyone else around her - but years rolled by and she was still no closer to the life that had seemed so easily achievable when she was young. So, she had decided to take matters in her own hands, informing her mother and everyone else she could that she was ready to marry, and asking them to let her know if they knew a boy they thought would be a good match.

And, she thought she had found the good match on her first try, but when the week after her date rolled on, and there was no word from Jacob, she realised how stupid she had been.

She had been moodier than ever that week, stomping around the bakery with a scowl on her face, smacking the keys of her typewriter harder than necessary, and barely speaking two words to whoever approached her.

She was not dealing with the rejection well.

So, when a handsome worker - who she recalled was named James -- passed her desk, offering a confident smile as he did, she wasted no time.

She wandered into Alfie's office with her hands clasped behind her back, swaying slightly as she waited for him to look up from the papers on his desk.

"What?" He asked, still reading the scribbles on the page.

"Didn't know you'd taken new people on," she shrugged nonchalantly, keeping her tone light and unbothered.

"And? What about it?"

"I don't know," she shrugged again, stepping further into his office. "Just a lot of new faces around here,"

Alfie groaned, dropping the papers from his hand and removing the glasses he wore from his face. "Since when do you care about new faces?"

"I don't," she laughed defensively. "I was just wondering about one of them, is all."

"You were just wondering about one of them," Alfie's eyebrows rose, and he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. "What were you wondering about?"

"I mean...maybe some background..."

"Like what? His favourite fucking book? The fuck you expect me to know?"

"I was just wondering, that's all," she held her hands up in defense, and her boss' eyes squinted at her words.

"I thought you were already seein' someone, that is why you left early a couple weeks ago, ain't it?"

"Who the fuck told you that?"

"Don't matter," Alfie offered her a smile. "Didn't work out or something..."

"No, it didn't," she huffed. "So...about James..." she trailed off, waiting for Alfie to step in, but he merely offered her a blank look. "Alfie," she whined, stomping her foot against the floor."

"Don't know 'im. Sorry, love," he waved a hand dismissively.

"Fine," she spun on her heel, storming out of his office. "I'll find out myself."

James was lovely. She had 'bumped' into him when she was leaving, and it hadn't taken him long to offer to take her out for drinks when he finished his shift, which she had accepted with a grateful smile.

He had met her outside of the local pub near the 'bakery', it wasn't a particularly nice establishment, but the lager was cheap, and she supposed he didn't have the money to spend in a fancy club like Jacob had - not with the pittance she was sure Alfie was paying him.

He was funny, and quite respectful in comparison with some of his colleagues. He had asked her questions about her interests, had shared his own, and she was delighted that they seemed to have quite a bit in common.

They had ended the night at her door, with chaste kiss, and another promise to go out again the following week, and she had closed the door with a grin on her face.

"See you at work tomorrow," he had said as he walked away.

When she arrived to work the next morning, the same grin still on her face, she couldn't stop her eyes scanning the floor as she walked to her desk, desperately trying to seek out James, but, when she couldn't find him, she had shrugged it off.

Maybe he was ill or something.

It was now Thursday. Her date with James had been on Monday, and there had been no sign of him ever since.

It was hard not wonder, had something bad happed to him? Had he been hiding every time he saw her walking through the distillery? Had he been so repulsed by her that he had quit his job just to avoid seeing her again?

The thoughts had consumed her all week, and they had affected her mood significantly. Unlike with Jacob, where she had been an angry force at work, she was now forlorn, barely speaking to anybody, and zoning out of conversations with a vacant look on her face.

It was starting to worry her boss, who spent longer than appropriate watching her from his office window.

He had called her into the office that afternoon, watching as she walked seemingly in a daze, her eyes were duller, and he face appeared more sunken.

She didn't say anything when she took a seat at his desk, nor did she meet his eyes when he said her name.

"You alright?" he had asked, his tone more concerned than he wanted it to be.

"Wonderful," she replied, her voice flat, fiddling with a thread on her skirt.

"You've been wandering 'round like a ghost for the past week, love. What's goin' on with ya? Please don't tell me another fucking cat died."

She huffed a laugh that was clearly fake, still fiddling with the thread when she responded. "I think I'm unmarriable, Alfie."

Alfie's shoulder's straightened at her words, leaning his arms on his desk, he studied her face, watching as she blinked away the tears that were beginning to pool in her eyes. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"Two men in two weeks, Alfie. I have gone out with two men in two weeks and they have both disappeared...literally disappeared, I haven't seen them since."

Her eyes lifted from her dress to meet his, and Alfie was struck by how sad she looked. He had never thought she would be this upset by a couple of boys not getting back to her after one night.

"That's silly, love," he sighed. "It don't mean nothin'"

"Yeah," she scoffed, "it does."

He considered telling her in that moment, he truly did. A better man would have, would have confessed right then and there.

A better man would have told her that they had cornered Jacob after he had dropped her off at her door. How he had almost certainly broken the young man's nose before he had a chance to blink, how he had had his men hold the boy by the shoulders while he whispered a warning in his ear.

"Stay away from her."

He really should have told her that he had turned up at James' shitty flat on Monday night, waiting for the man to return from his date with her. That his worker's body had began to shake when he saw his boss leaning against his front door, his arms crossed against his chest and a cold look in his eye.

"Have to let you go, son," Alfie had said. "A worker that is more concerned about fucking my secretary isn't one I want workin' with me."

James had begun to splutter a reply, but Alfie was already heading for the stairs.

"Best you stay away from her, yeah?"

It hadn't been a question.

He really should have told her, but he didn't. Instead, he had sighed and rose from his seat, moving into the empty chair beside her.

"You ain't unmarriable, woman," he told her, patting her shoulder. "You just chose two fuckin' idiots."

"Whatever you say, Alfie," she said, standing up and walking out of the office without another word.

He should have confessed, but he didn't. He did, however, promise himself he would not get involved in her personal life anymore. The next man she met, would not have to face a threat from Alfie Solomons.

She had been leaving her home to go to work when she had ran into Elijah on the street. He had chased after her, holding an envelope in his hands, waving it frantically when she finally turned around when she heard the stranger's voice calling after her.

"I think you dropped this," he handed her the envelope, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she took it from his hands.

"Oh, thank you," she laughed. "My boss would have murdered me if I lost it."

He had laughed at her words, not realising she wasn't exactly joking about her boss.

"I'm Elijah," he held out a hand, which she took with a smile.

"He's really nice, Ollie," her words were muffled as they travelled into Alfie's office, and he had to press his ear closer to the door to be able to hear her clearly. "A real gentleman."

'A real gentleman.'

Alfie rolled his eyes, 'gentleman' was just another word for a soft prick.

"We're going out again tonight," she told her friend. "Said he has a surprise for me."

"What do you think it is?" Ollie asked her, and Alfie rolled his eyes again. Ollie was worse than a fucking twelve year old girl.

"I mean we've been seeing each other for a while, he's met my family, I've met his..." she trailed off, and Ollie's gasp was clear as day from where Alfie was standing.

"You think he's going to propose?"

And just like that, Alfie's heart dropped to his stomach. He tore his ear from the wall, storming back to his desk, dropping to the seat with a heavy thud.

Of course Elijah was going to propose, of fucking course. She had been seeing him for the better part of four months, and she spent every waking minute talking about the nice doctor, it was natural that his was how it was going to progress.

He regretted not cornering Elijah on is way to work the moment she had mentioned his name, regretted not giving him the same treatment he gave the two men that came before him. He should have, should have twisted the man's arm behind his back until he was crying like a little girl, should have had his men hold him down while he kicked him in his ribs until blood came out of his mouth, he should have put the barrel of his gun to his head an pulled the trigger.

But to what end?

She was a good girl. She wanted to get married, have a few children and take care of the house while her husband was at work.

Alfie couldn't offer her that.

Everything he could offer her, he already had. He had given her protection, a stable income, and some form of friendship. He could never give her what she truly craved. He knew that, no matter his feelings for her - feelings he didn't understand himself - he couldn't give her the life she deserved.

And that thought made him sick.

The room was too hot for him to sit in any longer. Alfie pushed through the crowd of people, shoving them harder than necessary until he reached the door, the sound of music and laughter fading as the heavy door closed behind him.

He took a seat on a damp wooden bench, his head dropping in his hands.

It had been a lovely ceremony, a bit small, and a bit cheap for his tastes, but she had managed to make it lovely anyways.

He stood when she entered, her parents on either side of her, walking her to the end of the aisle.

She didn't spare Alfie a glance, too busy looking ahead - looking at him. The bitterness twisted in his stomach and it took all the self control he possessed to keep a neutral look on his face.

Elijah met her at the end of the aisle, taking her hand and helping her up the little steps, a sickening smile on his face.

Alfie didn't miss the sympathetic glance Ollie, who was beside him, threw him.

"Not enjoying the party?" her voice was as sweet as anything, full of happiness.

"Weddings ain't really my thing, love," he offered her a smile, it dropping as quickly as it came.

"But this isn't just any wedding, Alfie," she said, taking a seat next to him. "It's mine, you should be happy."

"Why is that?"

"You've finally gotten rid of me," she laughed, nudging his shoulder with hers. "You don't have to pay me to sit around and do nothing all day, should save you a bit of money."

Alfie didn't laugh with her, a bitter smile on his face as he looked down at his hands.

"Oh don't tell me you're sad about me leaving?" her voice held nothing but humour and Alfie wanted to scream at her.

How can you be so blind?

Can't you see I love you?

"Nah, I'm just upset it took this long," he said eventually, rising from his seat, patting her on the shoulder as did. "I'm gonna head out, but congratulations, love. You look very beautiful."

Her eyes softened at his words, her smile widening from where she was sat, looking up at him, her eyes sparkling.

He didn't have time to react when she shot up from her seat, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer to her.

"You're the best friend I could have asked for, Alfie," she whispered, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Yeah, well," he cleared his throat, pulling her arms away from his shoulders and taking a step back. "Fuck off, now. You're missing your own wedding you stupid woman."

She laughed, nodding her head and disappearing back into the building before Alfie could blink, leaving him frozen in place, the bitterness that once consumed him being replaced by what felt like an all-encompassing sadness.

'The best friend I could have asked for."

What a fucking joke that was.

[chris-prank]

I am absolutely obsessed with Esteban. Can you please do him with a darling who is just as obsessed with him as he is with them?

Also if you're accepting anons I'd love to be one :)

I’m so happy that you like Esteban 😭 idk why, but at first I was convinced that people wouldn’t like him as much as my other yandere ocs. And yes, I totally accept anons, I think it’s a nice way to recognize you guys! 😆

A yandere reader would be the perfect match for Esteban. You mean to tell him that you want to be with him all the time willingly?? Just put a ring on his finger already! 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

Esteban walked through the corridors with a grim look on his face. The meeting he had been promised to only last thirty minutes ended up taking almost two hours. It had to happen on the very day he was supposed to have dinner with you. The worst part is that he had forgotten his phone in his office and no matter how many times he asked his secretary to call you on the company phone after his meeting you weren’t answering. 

On his way he had dismissed every employees that had tried to come up to him, despite the fact that it looked important. As he opened his office door, he was presented with a sight he never in his life expected to see. You were there, in front of him, sitting in his chair, tapping your finger on the desk. Logic was thrown out the window as a large smile formed on his lips.

“Love!” He exclaimed happily, running up to you with open arms.

You stopped him in his tracks, putting your hand on his chest. He could see now that you had a disappointed look on your face. Esteban figured the reason why and before you could say a word, he dropped to his knees, trapping both of your hands in his. 

“I’m so so so sorry! The stupid businessman I had a meeting with had to drag that thing on and on, I never thought it would be this long!” Between his explanations he kept kissing your fingers, “and I-I forgot my phone here, in the office, that’s why I couldn’t tell you! Please f-forgive me!” 

You leaned down, leveling up your face with his. “No need to justify yourself, I already checked the camera feeds silly. Now what about that dinner?” You whispered with a lovesick smile. 

The man let out a sigh of relief. “I should have known, you’re so resourceful my love.”

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I just love the idea of Esteban being perfectly fine with the craziness of yandere reader (and them also being fine with his). 

[nariism]

come out and haunt me

pair. itoshi sae x ghost!reader

content: fluff, angst/comfort with a happy ending, reader is a ghost, platonic + romantic interactions, strangers to friends (to more?), slight pining

synopsis. sae is 13 years old when he moves to madrid. his temporary apartment is old and cheap, and worst of all it's haunted. but he finds your company better than nothing, even if you do tend to knock all of his belongings over.

wc. 5.7k

You are dead.

As it comes to all mortal humans, you have died. You can't remember when, or how, or why— only that it is your duty to haunt this home, that you are abysmally cold, and that you are dead.

You don't know if you had any last words, what it was like to draw a breath, or how to stop feeling so cold. Cradling yourself somehow makes it worse. But you are dead, so what does it matter if you can't remember?

If you had aspirations and meaning in life, then you suppose you should try to find them in death, too. So you float around empty halls, deliberately bump into things just for the fun of it, and pretend that you aren't dead. It is purposeful enough.

There's a boy who lives with you.

You are dead, and he is alive, yet he seems completely unbothered by your loud, obnoxious presence.

Sae feels more dead than alive.

He is 13 years old when he moves into his temporary home in Madrid. It's old and worn. It is all his parents could afford with Yen in a foreign country.

His new home is despairingly lonely. It makes the heart in his chest sink into the pit of his stomach. He misses Rin. His parents. Japan.

He should be thankful. He doesn't mean to be a brat. But the small apartment is cramped and cold and smells like mildew. He's allergic to something in the walls. His light buzzes horribly when it turns on.

And, well. The place is haunted.

You are a ghost haunting an old, rickety apartment in Madrid.

You've never seen your reflection in the mirror, but you're pretty sure you look scary. There has been others before him— a young couple with a dog; a retired carpenter; a businessman complaining about how shitty work is over the phone. Each and every one of them have left you the same way: screaming, crying, colour drained from their faces and packing their suitcase before you could even say hello.

It's a little lonely, being a ghost. Sometimes you wish you came off a little friendlier. You have no ill intent, you're just bored. Bored and lonely and wishing to know why everyone thinks you're so terrifying.

The boy who lives with you is the first. He's the first to look you dead in the eyes and shrug you off. He's the first to fall asleep knowing your presence is watching. He's the first to leave out a bowl of warm, steaming rice for you even though he seems to know you can't physically eat it.

His company is silent, as is yours. It's better than nothing.

Sae is 13 years and 5 months old when he tells Rin his apartment is haunted.

"A ghost? Seriously?" Rin sounds unimpressed even through the static of the phone call. Take it from the kid who watches horror movies in his spare time. Freak, Sae thinks.

"Seriously. I have a picture."

He can hear his brother pulling his phone away from his ear to look at the image he just sent. The call goes quiet for a moment, and then Rin is scoffing in the microphone again.

"Quit messing with me." The younger Itoshi sighs. "This isn't funny."

Rin is only 11. He lives at home with Mom and Dad. He's not alone right now, in a place where everyone speaks a jumbled language he can't decipher yet.

He doesn't understand that even if Sae isn't being haunted, he shouldn't crush his brother's hopes that someone, or something, is watching over him.

"I'm not," Sae deadpans.

"Yeah, okay, and what does this ghost do, then?" He still sounds skeptical.

"Mostly just knocks over my books and stuff."

From his couch, he watches you bristle in embarrassment and scurry away into the darkness of the hall.

You are some sort of untethered soul, unsure of where your actual body rests. It could be 10 meters from this apartment. It could be in Antarctica, for all you know.

Okay, well, Antarctica is a bit of a reach, but you're certain that your body is somewhere. You wonder what kind of clothes you used to wear; what kind of music you used to listen to; what kind of hairstyle you used to prefer.

You wonder if these things are anything like Sae's.

He's all you have right now. It would be nice if you had some things in common. Maybe you could be friends, if he was ever going to acknowledge you to your face instead of gossiping to his brother.

You watch him quietly from the kitchen table, waiting for your bowl of rice. You must make some kind of face when he instead places a plate of eggs in front of you.

He almost laughs, you think. He hasn't shown any sort of emotion in response to you thus far, so it's hard to tell.

"Coaches told me I have to be stricter about my diet," he says out loud. It's the first words he has ever spoken to you. It's the first words anyone has ever spoken to you.

He eats his bland eggs silently after that remark, eyeing them disdainfully.

You have that in common, at least. You miss your warm bowl of rice.

Sae thinks you are funny.

He's only ever known ghosts to be malicious, benevolent beings. Things stuck in purgatory with no way out, forced to wander the mortal plane and thus turning into baneful monsters. Watching spooky movies with Rin has ingrained this into him—  hardwired his brain into giving him goosebumps whenever you're around even though he knows you're harmless.

He has to wonder how anyone could ever find a ghost like you genuinely scary, with your avoidant eyes and that patience while you wait for breakfast.

He doesn't mind doing twice the amount of dishes. Not if it means he doesn't feel alone.

You do silly things, like shoving his belongings over when you want his attention, or sitting on the floor and blowing bone-chillingly cold air into his face when he's taking his midday nap.

He's discovered that your inconsistent corporeal interactions with the world are quite amusing.

"What's your name?" He asks one day over eggs that he's shoving around on his plate.

Silence. Of course.

"Don't have one?"

You shake your head, but really, you don't know. You can't remember.

Sae has never been the talkative type, but for some reason he just can't keep his mouth closed. Being a complete shut-in and not having anyone to talk to outside of his team would do that to him, he guesses. He's thankful that you at least don't seem to have a language barrier when he speaks Japanese.

"Should I name you?"

Your offended expression screams: What am I, a pet?

He just smiles, placing his fork down and observing you carefully. And the name he decides on dances at the tip of his tongue, sounds so sweet coming from his lips.

You can't help but think the name was meant for you, in life or in death.

You like listening to Sae talk.

He has a voice smooth as silk, so charming and boyish. He's young, you think. He told you once that you also looked rather young, and asked you how old you were when you died.

Even if you had an answer for him, it's not like you could have told him.

Sae is famous for his age, you discover one night while watching television with him. You're sitting on the floor and he's on the couch. You cause the TV to frizzle and crack with static but he doesn't shoo you away. Maybe he finds your presence more valuable than the background noise of the screen.

He's in a recording, playing what he calls "football"— light blue uniform, eyes wide with adrenaline, sweat sticking to his forehead and a proud shine in his expression. He isn't smiling by any means (you've also discovered that he rarely does), but you can tell he's happy.

"I'm going to be the greatest striker," he says from the couch. He talks about his dreams a lot, which is apparently what he used to do with Rin, but you don't mind filling in that role temporarily. "I'm going to be the best in the entire world."

You don't know anything about football, but you believe him anyways.

Sae is 14 years old when he gets his first contract payment.

This is his chance, he realizes, to move out of his shitty little apartment and into an actual livable home.

He has to consider if you'll feel lonely, if you even can feel lonely, and if you'll like hanging out with your next housemate, whoever it is that's unlucky enough to have a ghost befall them.

He's getting soft. If it were any other point in his life, Sae would have taken the chance to move out without hesitation. But you've been there for him since day one, kept him enough company — no matter how quiet — for him not to go literally insane.

You're the only thing he has in Madrid that he can come home to right now. You’re the only reason he even comes home at night instead of just sleeping in the locker rooms.

If not him, who else would feed you crappy bland eggs in the morning?

You, football, sleep. You, football, sleep. You, football, sleep. At some point, it became his routine.

"I was thinking of moving out."

Your head tilts to the side. You seem perplexed by his statement.

"Like, leaving. Leaving here."

You blink at him, head tilting the other way. There's a look in your eyes that tells him you understand. There's also a look that tells him it's not your first time being abandoned, left in this terribly lonely, smelly apartment.

"I can never tell what you're thinking," he huffs.

You're still for a moment, just staring at him as if you suddenly can't understand Japanese. But then you get up from the table, walk over to the container of dry rice that's been untouched for so long that it's gathering dust, and knock it over.

"Hey," he scolds sharply, chair screeching as he stands. "I have to clean that, you know?"

You start moving the spilled rice into place. He watches curiously as you sort dry rice into a pile. You don't know any Kanji, he isn't surprised. But you know enough to draw him a universally understood symbol.

When he peers over at the messy counter, he finds himself staring at a giant X. Stay, it means. Don't leave.

That night, when he knows you've retreated into the closet where you seemingly go to sleep, he crumples up the lease for his new place without signing and burns the paper.

It's because he needs to make you eggs tomorrow morning. Only he would know to do that.

"Do ghosts ever have dreams?"

You raise your head from the edge of the bed. You've made it a new habit to protect him in his sleep, from what he can tell. Perching yourself on the floor beside the mattress and resting there, head in your arms, making his sheets cold.

You shake your head. Of course not, he internally smacks himself. What a ridiculous notion.

He rolls himself over onto his side, looking at you from under his duvet. "So when you sleep, you don't see anything?"

Another shake of the head. He isn't sure you're understanding him. There's another pause as he peers at you, and then he sighs, eyes sliding shut.

"Do ghosts ever have dreams?" He asks again, this time emphasizing his words in a different way and hoping you'll answer him the way he wants.

Your eyes shift away for a second, as if pondering. When you look back he's surprised to see that you look... bashful?

You point at him, then at yourself, then shy away again.

You. Me. Friends.

Sae feels silly that it makes his heart ache a little— the sadness carried in your face and a loneliness so powerful he feels it rattling in his own bones.

Well, the two of you have a lot more in common than he thought. How long had you been alone? Was that really all you ever dreamed of? Having a friend?

Suddenly, his doubts about his own dreams feel immeasurably small.

He reaches out to pat your head. His hand goes through you.

Sae is 15 years old when he packs up his belongings for a flight to Japan.

"I'll be back," he promises with a small smile. You believe him. He doesn't lie to you.

You wait patiently at the door for him for two weeks, three days, and sixteen hours. When he comes home, he finds you sitting on the floor like you always do with your head in your knees and a sleepy expression on your face.

He seems colder. More withdrawn, for some reason.

"Miss me?" Sae asks, but he's not even looking at you. He makes his way over to the kitchen and dumps a cup of rice into the cooker, suitcase abandoned at the door unpacked.

You trail behind him curiously, watching him in confusion as he washes it in the sink. He pauses, finally glancing at you before reaching over and dumping a second cup of rice in.

"I stress eat. Don't tell my coach."

The words don't make much sense to you, but you nod anyways.

For the first time in months, he places a bowl of warm rice in front of you. You do as he does, say thanks for the food in your head even though you can't eat, and observe him. You both sit quietly in the dim light of the apartment, moonlight beaming through your single rickety window.

He only gets four bites in before he puts his head in his hands and sobs.

You've never seen someone cry so hard before. Usually, they only do it when they first catch a glimpse of you and flee in terror. You've never known it to be such a painful sound— like a bird singing for the sky but never finding it.

Sae sits there for a long time just crying to himself, not caring that your presence is still watching. It's not like you'd ever judge him or have the voice to speak this secret, anyways.

"Fuck—" he hiccups, wiping up his face. "—Sorry."

You look at him funny. He has no reason to apologize. He's just a kid. A 15 year old kid who needs to stress eat in the solitude of his lonely apartment right now. It makes your chest squeeze; an unfamiliar, horrible feeling that's completely new to you. You wonder if this is what all the anime he watches calls a heart.

By the time he finishes crying, his rice is cold. And when he looks up, his eyes widen. Your lips are trembling and you look like you want to shout at him, but you can't. You are dead. You're a ghost. You can't yell some sense into him, even if you tried.

In the pale moonlight shining into the room, he can see tears illuminated on your cheeks.

Sae is 16 years old when he meets his first partner.

"They're nice," he reassures you as he slicks his bangs up with gel. You shake your head in disapproval and he rolls his eyes. You always liked his bangs down, thinks he looks better that way. "Well, I can't stay single forever."

You scowl at him and swivel on your heel to stubbornly deny his claims. He just laughs.

"You're seriously jealous?"

You shoot him a glare.

"If you really don't like them, you could always scare them away. You are a ghost, aren't you?" He reaches up to pat your head as he always does. And as always, his hand phases through you.

He turns around to fix his hair again, leaning into the mirror to see himself closer.

You're not sure if you even have human features. You can't see them in a reflection, anyways. Even if you did, you're sure they're pretty scary.

You glance at Sae in the reflection. He looks as good as ever, no longer a scrawny little 13 year old kid who eats rice for breakfast every morning. You wonder if his partner is pretty like he is.

He must notice the chill in the air grow ten times colder— a telling sign that your mood is dropping. He turns around to see what has happened, only to find you sulking.

"What?"

You pout, gesturing to the mirror. He looks to the vanity, then to you, and he shakes his head with an exasperated smile.

"I was wondering when you'd ask," he says as if this was a conversation he's been waiting for. And then he talks. Talks more than you've heard in a long time— since he came home from Japan, probably.

He's gotten meaner over the years. He was always a rude little kid, but being pushed around in football must have given him thicker skin and a sharper tongue. You've never known him to be a saint of a human, someone who speaks so eloquently in their descriptions. But here he is now, defying your every expectation like he always does.

He tells you what colour your hair is. Compares the shape of your head to a fruit you can't recall an image of. Gives you a detailed explanation of all your flaws and marks and why he thinks they're so perfect because it proves that you were indeed alive and human at some point.

"You're beautiful," he concludes casually, as if he's not turning the entire world on its head right now.

Silence fills the room as he waits for your response. You don't do anything but gawk at him, and he chuckles.

He doesn't show up to his date that night.

"Your hair got longer," Sae points out one day while he's scrolling through his phone.

Your eyes flutter open from where your head rests on the coffee table. You hadn't even noticed. Can ghosts grow? 

"You know, I used to think you'd stay the same forever, but you've been growing up with me. It's cute."

Have you? Is it cute? Are you seriously so tethered to him that you've been unconsciously changing to match him?

Sae puts his phone down at your confusion. "Should I give you a birthday if you're going to grow up?"

You don't know what a birthday is. When he tries to explain it, you're even more perplexed. Ghosts don't have birthdays. They have... deathdays.

He puts a cake in front of you anyways and lets you blow out the candles.

Sae is 17 years old when he gets the eviction notice.

Four years. Four long, hard, unbelievably painful years later, and he's finally being kicked out of his house.

13 year old Sae would have celebrated. All he feels now is despair.

He doesn't tell you. He can't. How can he explain that he won't wake up every morning at 6am sharp to make you eggs? That you won't have someone around who will tell you every little thing that's changed about you from the last day? That you won't be able to doodle him little incomprehensible blobs with dry rice anymore?

He shouldn't care so much. You're not chained to this Earth. You might just disappear once he leaves, inperceptable to anyone else. The thought makes him so sick that he throws up that night. He tells you he ate some bad food.

Sae doesn't want you to feel sad or lonely, but it's not like he can just become a squatter in this place. His dream is to play football, not be thrown into jail.

You wake up one morning, and he's gone.

There isn't a note. There isn't an explanation anywhere to be found. There isn't even a trace of evidence that Itoshi Sae ever lived here.

Well, except for the plate of eggs and bowl of rice sitting on the stove.

You thought you would have been used to being alone by now. For some time, you were used to it. But that was many years ago.

You're not sure how long you've been haunting this apartment in Madrid, nor do you know how much time passes after Sae leaves. The world seems to come to a halt, actually. Without him, what fun is being a ghost?

Now you're just a lost soul like all the others. There isn't anything special about you. You're just the ghost that used to haunt Itoshi Sae and wake him up from his naps.

For the first time in years, you only know one thing. A singular fact that keeps you bound to this world: it's your duty to haunt this home. There is nothing else.

No one moves in after Sae leaves. No one new comes to be haunted. No one dares to set foot into this apartment. You remember that there were moments when life flickered inside of you, if even for just a fraction of your infinite time. The reason for that has abandoned you without explanation.

There's a knock on the door one day. You can't open it, and the person outside doesn't bother sticking around to see you phasing through the door to look around.

There's a birthday cake on the floor with candles that say '19' sticking out of it.

Only one human in the entire world would have deemed today to be your 19th birthday. He's nowhere to be seen.

He moves back to Japan on his 21st birthday. Sae is having trouble remembering what you look like, despite seeing you in his dreams every night.

It's a terrible realization. So terrible that it makes him sob into his pillow at night when no one in the world is awake to hear his anguish.

Japan is lonelier than Madrid. He never thought it would happen, and he blames you entirely.

He doesn't have anyone waiting for him when he opens the door to his luxury penthouse apartment. He only washes one plate in the morning. He wakes up from his midday naps undisturbed and rested.

Sae misses you deeply. And he can't help but wonder if you feel the same.

(You don't know what the yearning ache inside of you is. You don't know what to call it.

You miss him, too. You just can't put a name to the feeling.)

He doesn't stop seeing you in wisps; little blurs in his peripheral that make his head turn fast as lightning. Wherever he looks, you're gone.

It's not fair that you're a ghost who both literally and figuratively haunts him. He'd like to move on in life and forget about those 4 miserable years he spent living in that damned apartment.

He can't. Sae is incapable of moving on from that place. The irony of it is that you actually can't move on from that place, for some reason.

He would give anything to have you haunting him again. It doesn't matter where in the world the two of you are, if you were together everything would be okay. He's impossibly lonely without you.

You start to think that you're the selfish one.

The idea of leaving this terrible apartment in Madrid scares you to your very core— whatever soul is resting in your incorporeal body. It's not fair to place the blame entirely on Sae. Not when you're too wimpy to leave this place and find him.

Death is lonely without him.

One step forward, one day at a time. It's the advice Sae used to mutter to himself while getting ready in the morning.

One step forward, one day at a time. One step forward, one day at a time. And day by day, you're slowly inching closer to the door.

Sae talks to Rin and all he can think about is your confused smiles and head tilts. He talks to his parents and all he can imagine is how cold the room would be if it were you. He talks to his fucking therapist and thinks that all of her shitty advice can't compare to your quiet understanding— that your tears of solidarity are the only thing that could make him feel better.

It's fucked up, really, that he can't move on. His body is in Japan going through the motions: playing football, being famous, being interviewed and going home to nothing. His heart is in Madrid. You took it with you and refuse to let go.

You're the closest thing to love he's ever felt, perhaps— his only friend in Spain. His only reason not to leave. A ghost from his childhood that protected him in his sleep and ate bland eggs for breakfast across the table from him every morning. A ghost that would sit on the floor and wait for him to come home every day. A ghost that kept him company when he had no one else.

He loves you. He doesn't. He needs you. He doesn't. He misses you. He doesn't. Whatever. What does it matter now?

"So playing football has always been your dream?"

Sae stares blankly at the interviewer. He's reminded of a distant conversation: he is laying in bed looking at a ghost with a lump in his throat, and then he makes his first and only friend in Spain.

"Yes."

"And now that you're back in Japan, will you be playing for the national team?"

"I have no interest in playing on such a weak team." In other words, he has no reason to stay in Japan.

"So where will you go?"

Anywhere but here, he wants to say. In reality, he doesn't know where to go anymore if not to his old apartment in Spain. He just knows that he wants to come home to your sleepy face.

(That night, he makes two bowls of rice. He cries like he's 15 years old again and just ruined his relationship with his brother.)

You've never been outside before.

You've heard about it, almost entirely from Sae but also from little snippets of anime he liked to watch. It's brighter than you imagined it to be, and warmer. You're not sure you've ever felt so warm before— it's hard to when you are a walking freezer.

There isn't anyone to tell you where to go. No one pays you any mind. You wonder if you even exist anymore outside of the small confines of that old apartment.

Something tells you that you do.

You don't know where to start looking. He could be all the way across the globe for all you know, though he did used to talk about his home country.

You have no map. You have no sense of direction. You have no one to ask for help. 

All you have is the soul caged within your ghostly body tugging in one direction, and wispy feet dragging your body along in response.

Sae is 23 years old when he finally signs the contract to play for Japan, after months of being pestered by Rin about it.

His relationship with his brother is complicated. On one hand, he feels as though Rin will never truly forgive him for what he did when he was 15. On the other, he looks so ecstatic to be playing football together again that Sae wonders if their discourse was imaginary.

Japan is just a smidge less lonely with Rin in his life.

He wants to tell you all about it. That everything worked out and it's fine now. That you can stop weeping for him and to wipe up the tears that fall into nothing.

He counts the distance between you. Fourteen thousand kilometres separate him from telling you how he's living his new dream: playing football with his little brother again.

Fourteen thousand kilometers, ten years of needing you, and a reminder set on his phone to buy you a birthday cake again this year.

His heart aches.

Japan is loud and busy and everyone is always in a hurry to get places.

You have to wonder if Sae really grew up in a city like this, and how he turned out so calm and unmovable. The street names are all in Kanji you can't read, but your soul tells you that you're going the right way, anyways.

There's a crowd gathering when your feet finally come to a halt. Lights flash and there are fancy looking people with microphones clamouring toward the center.

It's only a fraction of a second that your eyes meet, and then someone shoves him into the back of the car and they drive off.

He must be famous here, too.

Sae is 24 years old tossing and turning in his bed, wondering if you were just a figment of his imagination or if you were truly standing there under a streetlamp watching him.

It wouldn't be the first time he dreamed you into existence; on some occasions you feel so real that he nearly reaches out to attempt to pat your head, like he always used to do when he was younger.

He goes back to that spot a couple hours later. The crowd is long gone and it's the dead of night— no one would be around to witness Itoshi Sae looking psychotic.

He doesn't find you in that spot. Instead, you're two blocks down and crouched in front of the window of a 24 hour shop. There's an ad for sparklers, and though you can't read the poster itself, the picture makes you stare with wide eyes.

He crouches down beside you as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.

"Do you want one?" He asks. You look at him in a strange way and his knees grow weak beneath him. You nod.

He comes out five minutes later with a few packs in his hand, walking away from you down the street to the park. You follow him quietly as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.

Sae holds one out, flicks the lighter in his pocket open and ignites the first sparkler. You watch it in fascination, ghostly form illuminated in warm orange and yellow light.

He smiles at you as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.

When the sparkler dies out, he lights another. And another. And another, until he's gone through all the packets he could afford with the Yen in his wallet right now.

As if 7 years of distance never existed between you, he reaches out to pat your head. His hand falls through you.

You think Sae's new apartment is pretentious, but it's clean and open and doesn't smell like mildew.

It's hard to imagine what kind of purpose you had before him— all your memories are flooded with his hands and eyes and bangs and small smiles reserved for you. You think that the only reason you were ever materialized into the mortal plane was to haunt him, and only him. Itoshi Sae's permanent looming presence.

He doesn't seem to mind. In fact, you've noticed he's been smiling more lately since you started waiting for him to come home by the door.

Sae is 25 years old when you fall asleep beside him in his bed.

You don't care that he's a kicker or a blanket hog in his sleep. It's not like either of those would affect you. He watches your sleeping face carefully, waiting to see if he would ever wake up from this blissful dream and be alone again.

But every time he wakes up, there you are.

You've grown since he left you in Madrid— you don't look like some lost little kid anymore, at least. He wonders if your souls are truly so intertwined that you would change alongside him, regardless of the distance.

Your eyes flutter open and his breath catches in his throat. You blink at him slowly in the pale moonlight, brows furrowed.

You point at him. Then yourself.

You. Me.

He nods in understanding.

When he drops a plate of protein pancakes in front of you for breakfast, you look confused.

"Oh, sorry. Do you want rice?"

You shake your head. You don't care what's for breakfast, as long as you're sitting across from him while he eats it.

"I'm going to be the world's best midfielder," he tells you one day. You're on the floor and he's on the couch, and it's like time had never even passed.

You don't know what that means, but it's his dream so it must be important. The most important thing in the world.

What you don't know is that it's not his entire dream. World's best midfielder doesn't mean a thing if he can't come home to tell you all about it.

You are dead.

You're a ghost haunting Itoshi Sae— one that followed him from Madrid all the way to Japan. You don't remember how, or when, or why you died. You can't remember what your face looks like either, no matter how much Sae tries to describe it to you. 

You are dead. You're a ghost knocking over Sae's belongings to get his attention when you want it. You're the ghost curled up in bed with him even though he has to wear two layers to stay warm because of it. You're the ghost watching him rotate through different breakfasts that he says could never compare to a good old warm bowl of rice.

You are a ghost, and Itoshi Sae gave you a name. A birthday. A purpose greater than being a loud nuisance.

You are a ghost who likes to watch him light sparklers on his balcony. Who feels the things described only in the books he reads to you. Who learned to love somewhere along the way.

You are dead, and somehow alive at the same time.

(One day, Sae will be brave. One day, he will tell you he loves you. One day, he will thank you for waiting for him at the door when he comes home.)

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[pinkanonwrites]

Hi! Hope you're doing fine and feel well! If you're okay with this, can I have headcanons with dorm lideres(but with Jamil instead of Kalim) reaction when their s/o comes to them with the news of Crowley finding a way to their world only to add that they refused it so they can stay with them and seeing more opportunities in twst world?

OHHHHHHHHH I loved this one. I dunno what else to say other than I just really enjoyed writing it, so I hope y’all enjoy reading it!

He was there with you when Crowley had broken the news, and frankly he had been so shocked himself at the Headmaster’s sudden show of competence that he hadn’t even registered the expression on your face. He’d forgotten, somewhere along the line, that your time together was finite. It always had been. You had a home, somewhere out there, and it wasn’t with him.

At least, that’s what he’d thought. He’d also thought that when you called him out that afternoon to speak alone, that you would be breaking up with him. Easier to sever the connection now rather than later. But as he faced you, awaiting your rejection, the last three words he’d ever expected you to stay fell from your lips.

“I’m staying here.”

Before it’s even sunk in what that actually means, for him, for the two of you, he’s already trying to argue it. What do you mean, you’re staying? Isn’t this what you had wanted? You’re being terribly hasty, giving up the world you had gushed to him over to stay in this unfamiliar one.

But as you begin to argue back with him, to explain yourself, the full force of the confession hits him like a train. Your world wasn’t your home anymore, he was. You’d give it all up just for the chance to stay here with him, see what your relationship had to offer. You’d seen the absolute worst of him, the temper tantrums and the break-downs and the obsession and compulsion... and you still wanted him.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until you’re cupping his cheeks. You wipe away the fat, shimmery tears as they roll down his face but they just keep coming, pouring over your fingers as Riddle gasps out a shuddering breath before hugging you like he’s afraid you’re going to dissolve through his fingertips. Once he’s composed himself he’ll apologizing for losing face like that, but for now all he wants is to hold you.

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid you’re so, incredibly stupid. That’s what he’ll keep murmuring as he holds you, but you can tell he doesn’t really mean it by the way his entire broad frame is practically shivering with relief. Stupid, dumb herbivore choosing the unwanted, the second son, the wannabe prince, over the world that was awaiting your return home.

Leona’s always been second place. Second to his brother, second to his own nephew, second to Malleus Draconia; He was fully prepared to be second to your home world too. Everything he’s ever desired in life he’s lost to someone just a half step ahead of him, regardless of his own skill. He’d long since given up on fighting for what he wanted.

But he didn’t even have to fight for you. You chose him, quickly, assuredly, like it would be foolish to even consider anything else. You would give up a literal world for the chance to stay by his side, and the only thing Leona has really ever wanted was to be the one somebody chose first. You gave that to him, without him even needing to ask.

The first thing he does is scoff, tell you not to offer him foolish placations if they aren’t even true, to chide you for attempting to pull one over on the most accomplished, silver-tongued businessman at Night Raven College. But the truth of the matter is that he genuinely cannot and will not believe that you would actually choose him over the opportunity to return home.

It takes some pushing for him to finally believe you, but once he does he’s completely stunned into silence. What is he even supposed to say? What does anyone say when they’re being told you’re giving up your chance to go home for... For him? For Azul Ashengrotto, the slowpoke, the poor, pudgy octopus, the scam artist?

His entire face burns red and his eyes sting with tears, bubbling over like waterfalls down his cheeks. You hug him and he hugs you back with crushing force, pressing his face into the crook of you neck and trying to focus on the sound of your breathing to quell his tears. He most likely won’t let you go for the remainder of the evening, but not leaving him behind is what you wanted in the first place, so you can hardly say you mind.

No matter how badly, how desperately he wants you to stay, Jamil’s first instinct is to try and convince you to reconsider. It’s hard to fault him for it, seeing as it’s what he’s been doing his entire life. He’s always had to put someone else ahead of him, make them look better, more appealing, regardless of his own wants and desires. Why would it be any different here?

But not only is he surprised when you begin to argue back, frankly insulted that he’d try to convince you to leave after you’d made up your mind to choose him, he’s also relieved. Of course he wanted you to stay, of course he’d fall to pieces if you’d left and he had to stay here without you. But Jamil spends every waking moment weighing what he wants against what would be the better thing to do, and his instincts kicked in in place of his shock.

He’ll interrupt you mid-rant with a kiss, cupping the back of your neck gently but with an intensity that says he’s never going to let you go again, so you’d better be ready to be stuck with him. Whatever life throws at you from now on, at least you’d have each other to help get through it.

His soft, almost knowing smile says "I always knew you’d choose me," on the outside. But on the inside you’ve quelled a raging storm of insecurity and concern down to a light, fluttering breeze with just three little words. Vil knows he isn’t the easiest person to be with, and he recognizes that his particularities and tastes have led to plenty of disagreements in the past, and will probably lead to more in the future.

But regardless of that possibility, you chose to stay. You dug in your heels and chose to stay anchored to him despite all the ways he knew he could drive you mad. But you did it because you loved him, and because you were terribly, terribly stubborn when you wanted to be. But that stubbornness is just what made Vil fall head over heels for you in the first place.

He doesn’t want to let you out of his sight until it’s fully sunken in that you staying is actually real. He’ll lend you some of his pajamas, dress you in wonderfully soft silk as he does your evening moisturizing routine for you and you can curl into bed together. He’ll cradle your cheek so gently with his hand, forgoing his own strict sleep routine so he can stay up and watch until you doze off in his arms.

Haha, real funny joke you’re making right now. Actually, no, it isn’t funny. Not even a little bit! How could you joke about something like that, try and get his hopes up for something he knows isn’t gonna happen? Idia is a raging pessimist, so it’ll take a while for you to even convince him that what you’re saying it the truth.

Once you finally do though? It takes everything he’s got not to completely shut down. He crumples into your arms like a fall leaf, shaking just as much, gripping you so tight as to almost be unbearable. You’re actually choosing... Him? You know this is endgame, right? You can’t reload your save after something like this, this is a decision you can’t take back.

Part of him wants to crawl under his bed and never come out, but another part of him is terrified that if he lets you go you might change your mind, so instead he just hangs off you like a barnacle as his brain refuses to fully process what  this means for the two of you. He curls around you like a second skin in bed, for once shoving all his anxieties to the corners of his brain and just fully immersing himself in your wonderful warmth.

Oh, his darling. His wonderful little Child of Man. Are you certain? The last thing Malleus ever wants is to lose you, but he wants this decision to be yours and yours alone, not swayed by his words or actions. But when he looks into your eyes he sees it. That determination, that finality. You’ve already made up your mind, and nothing he says right now will change that.

And oh, if he doesn’t fall in love with you all over again from that gaze alone. Malleus loves you, he loves you so deeply and so intensely that he’s certain he would have fallen to pieces the moment you’d stepped foot through whatever portal Crowley could conjure to send you home. How fascinating you are, how utterly brilliant that with only your kindness and your friendship you were able to bring the Prince of Fae to his knees before you.

Whatever you need of him, whatever you desire, Malleus will gladly do for you. He’d move the stars to make you smile, walk to the ends of the earth and back to hear your laughter. Whatever may come your way in the future, Malleus will spend every waking moment proving to you that you made the right decision.

[linkemon]

Period headcanons

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Other headcanons from this series can be found here.

Ruggie Bucchi

• Ruggie wouldn't be surprised by the period in the first place. If there are guys for whom this is a taboo topic, he wouldn't be one of them. He saw so many things on the streets as a child that neither pain nor blood scares him. He would also have no problem talking about it loudly. It's just a normal thing.

• He would definitely be a master of home remedies during your period. His years of odd jobs and all kinds of life knowledge would be invaluable in this matter. He would brew you homemade teas to help with the pain. All herbs are collected and dried by hand by him.

• While he is invaluable when it comes to home-made medicines, when you feel like snacking, he can be a miser. Cookies, chocolates, chips at Sam's? He's always short of money. But don't worry, if you really want some, he will somehow get money from Leona. Will you know about it? Not necessarily...

• Ruggie tolerates mood swings very well. Not only did he undergo training while working for Leona but he also got used to the fact that a woman is right, even when she isn't. In Savanaclaw, they lead in most relationships and thus he will tolerate any moodiness you may have.

Ortho Shroud

•A prefect in need? Ortho noticed it first! Before he downloaded the exact module, he thought you were seriously ill. He was very concerned about your health. Only when he downloaded the appropriate data did he understand what was going on.

• You can be sure that his information will be verified and supported by scientific evidence. He and Idia have access to data that an ordinary mortal will probably never even see. Therefore, expect a slightly medical approach to the topic.

• You will be scanned frequently unless you specifically do not want it. But let's be honest, these won't be just ordinary scans. You will get full information about what hurts you, where exactly and what is the best way to deal with it, so it sounds like a good deal.

• Ortho believes you should get plenty of rest. A warm water bottle, a blanket and off to bed! He will ask Grim to stay with you and not make a fuss, which surprisingly the cat will do (you don't know that there is a promise about can of tuna behind it).

• He will get you some medicines from the school nurse if you don't feel up to going to get them. Same with snacks and pads or tampons. Where does the money come from? He belongs to the Styx, one word and Crowley will generously create a new fund for your needs, which you won't find out about until long after the fact.

• You will receive a personalized cycle tracking app. Idia was allegedly bored. In reality, however, his hair was red the entire time he was creating it and he explained to his brother that he was only doing it at his request.

Jade Leech

• Menstruation is not a foreign concept to him. The point is more that Jade, like his brother, knows it from theory. Everything looks different under water and he never had to face this problem with his mother, for example. But there's no need to worry. Years in business have accustomed him to learning new things quickly.

• If you like specific foods, whether before or during your period, Jade's has you covered. Mostro Lounge has a wide range of products and if you want something specific, he will simply cook it for you. It's best if it contains mushrooms but if you don't want them, it's fine...

• As with Ortho, there is no problem with money. He is a good businessman. What was the point of doing any business with Azul if he didn't make money?

He knows your dorm doesn't have enough money. He often jokes with a serious face that you will work it off later but in the end it never happens. In the worst case scenario, he will ask for a kiss on the cheek in exchange for help.

• You can be sure that at the first opportunity he will do some off-campus mega business related to hygiene products. There aren't many people interested in the NRC but outside? He can take over the world and give you free samples. He will ask you for advice and opinions. Guaranteed that at the end of the process you will come up with a new formula or scents. You are happy and he is rich. Two in one.

• He is not open enough to talk about period in front of others, like Ruggie. He won't shy away from it but he just has a little bit more tact and won't talk about it until the conversation clearly stirs that way.

[exhuastedpigeon]

Buddie Hiatus Fic Recs - Month 4 August 16 - Sept 15

I think is my favourite rec list for this little project so far. It has some of my all time favourite Buddie fics on it, fics that I've read over and over again because they just bring me so much joy.

Previous lists linked at the bottom!

0-5k

here (in your arms) by devirnis / @devirnis Explicit | 2.3k I have had THE WORST day. When I finally get home, I’m going to pass out and sleep like a rock, and then I want to wake up with you inside me.

the art of peeling mandarins for the one you love by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Teen | 3.9k Buck asks Eddie to marry him in the kitchen, of all places.

5k-10k

but i've got my teeth in you by oklahoma / @sunshinediazTeen | 5.5k bad things happen bingo—tooth knocked out

you're the cream in my coffee by 42hrb Explicit | 8.6k Buddie coffee shop AU where everything is different, but they’re still idiots in love

wood you be mine? by MonsterRae1 / @monsterrae1 Mature | 9k the Lumberjack Buck fic.

10k-20k

With Great Power Comes Great Pining by Princessfbi / @princessfbi Teen | 10.4k It was the lightning strike. That had to be it. It was the only logical conclusion. Though, when it comes to being able to suddenly read people’s minds, Buck supposed there wasn’t a whole lot of logic involved.

endless numbered days by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Gen | 13.1k When a big event in the lives of the members of the 118 falls on the same weekend as Bobby's late son's birthday, Bobby finds himself reflecting on grief, fatherhood, and life after loss. 

The Scroll of Saint Barnabas by Amiril / @runawaymarbles Mature | 15k The day of the shooting, Eddie got stuck in a time loop. But that was three months ago. He's completely fine now.

Say Yes, and Figure It Out Afterwards by catwalksalone Explicit | 13.3k Buck and Eddie figure out a mutually beneficial way to deal with the first responder post-trauma cycle of up-horny-down.

Share the Joy by TalkNerdyToMe6 Teen | 14.2k After the lightning strike, Buck discovers he has more than just the ability to do long division in his head. Every time he touches Eddie, everything the other man is feeling moves through him like a wave of emotion, there and gone again. Buck can’t decide if that’s a blessing or a curse.

20k - 30k

light through the wave tips by bvckandeddie (zukkababey) / @bvckandeddie Explicit | 21.9k When Buck and Eddie planned a vacation with their kids over a year ago, they hadn’t exactly planned on bringing a seven-month-old baby along with them. Surely wrangling three kids can't be too much of a challenge—that is, if it weren't for Christopher's steadily worsening mood.

Cutting The Ties That Bind by kristen999 / @thekristen999 Mature | 34.4k Evan Buckley was a businessman, he had meetings and deadlines like everyone else. Sometimes he used intimation. While using the very same tactics he was trying to end while converting his family business into legitimate operations was a little hypocritical, it was the results that mattered.

Occasionally, he got threatened, but it was usually all hot air and ego. That all changed the day his breaks were tampered with. Enter Eddie Diaz, security specialist, who was not easily impressed by Buck’s expensive suits or financial conquests. That was okay. Buck enjoyed a challenge.

30k +

family (portrait) by ProsperDemeter / @prosperdemeter2 Teen | 45.1k realizing that the family that you need has been beside you all along.

like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck Explicit | 51.1k evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Teen | 79.8 Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica

what a heart can do by bvckandeddie (zukkababey) / @bvckandeddie Teen | 85.5k In which Buck becomes the guardian of the daughter he never knew he had. Together, they discover what happiness truly means to them.

Month 1 (May 15 - June 15) Month 2 (June 16 - July 15) Month 3 (July 16 - August 15)

[doomed-syko]

Right Back Where We Started From | Robert Keating x Fem!reader

summary: Flying home for Christmas seemed like a great idea until you’re snowed in and stuck on an icy runway… for the foreseeable future. Even worse? The person in the seat next to you is the guy who broke your heart a year ago

word count: 3.5k

warnings: angsty, exes to lovers (kinda), fluff, swearing, mention of alcohol, my bad writing as always, the usual really

author’s note: i have returned to my roots and am back with a robert christmas fic, everyone rejoice. this time a bit different. as you can tell, i’ve rewatched normal people while writing this – to all my robert keating and paul mescal enjoyers, this one is for you x

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”        

You hadn’t thought it would be possible, but your already bad day had just gotten worse somehow, which was kind of an achievement in itself.

It was bad enough that you had slept through your alarm this morning and had rushed into work over an hour late (the sudden onset of winter and heavy snowfall delaying your arrival even longer), which was followed by your suitcase breaking as you were about to leave your flat for Heathrow and you had to quickly find something to repair the broken zipper with. The bad luck didn't end there of course. When you did finally make it to the airport - ten minutes before check-in for your flight closed - you almost got run over by some busy businessman who didn't look where he was going and, in the process, rammed his metal suitcase against your knee, which had been pulsating and in pain ever since. Your flight being delayed by an hour and twenty minutes was truly only the cherry on top.

But even then, none of those things could compare to the mixture of feelings you felt bubbling up inside you when you realized who had just sat down in the seat right next to you and who was about to sit right next to you for the next hour and a half or so.

None other than your bassist ex-boyfriend whose band was almost everywhere these days. Of course, it had to be Robert Keating.

For a few seconds, you thought about the best way to approach this whole thing. Ignore him and pretend he wasn’t there? Put on a happy face and try to be nice to him? Even though the mere thought of your breakup still made your heart ache and sting every time you thought about it, thought about him. None of those seemed like good ideas.

Before either of you could decide how to approach this awkwardness, a decision was made for you. In the form of the voice of a flight attendant over the intercom system.

“Welcome on board British Airways flight BA 838 to Dublin Airport, due to the heavy snowfall and an icy runway, our start is delayed by at least thirty minutes,” a murmur went through the crowd. “Our cabin crew will be coming around, handing out free drinks and snacks, we apologize profusely for the delay!”

You must’ve really pissed off someone in your last life because there was no way this was real life. How could literally everything possibly go wrong in one single day?

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Robert echoed your words from earlier, the absurdity of it all was the last straw for you and you started uncontrollably giggling to yourself.

“You seem to be in a good mood.” Rob sighed and you knew without looking at him that his face was pulled into a grimace. It was safe to say that he was not having fun right now.

“Oh, believe me,” you stopped chuckling and turned your attention to your former lover, who did indeed look like he wanted to be anywhere but stuck on an icy tarmac right about now. “I’ve actually had one of the worst days of my life today.” You shrugged your shoulders. “At this point, I’ve just stopped trying to make any sense of it.”

Before you knew it you told him about everything that had gone wrong for you up until that point. Broke suitcase and all.

You even showed him your knee that had been massacred by that man and his heavy suitcase and realised that it actually had started bleeding. No wonder it kept pulsating with pain.

Those damn businessmen and their way too expensive, way too heavy metal suitcases

“I feel like I've been talking your ear off for way too long now,” you smiled awkwardly. Seems like 'put on a happy face and try to be nice' was the plan you had chosen. “Now tell me, why are you in London on the 22nd? Shouldn’t you be already home with the family?”

You hated that you still knew what he and his family did every Christmas. You hated that you still knew a lot about him actually.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rob replied. And just like that, operation 'put on a happy face and try to be nice' was fucked. “We had a label meeting a few days ago, with the big boss,” He joked. Looked like you didn’t mess up your chances of keeping this civil after all. “The lads all flew home on Wednesday, but I needed a day just for myself, to decompress or something like that… It has been a long year you know? So much has happened in the last twelve months, and I’ve had almost no days for just myself.”

“Yeah, busy year,” you acknowledged. You couldn’t escape the band anymore; they were everywhere these days. And as much as it hurt to see or hear about him everywhere you went; it made you happy to see them doing so well.

You were about to say something when the voice of the flight attendant from earlier came over the intercom again, this time informing you that due to the weather, your delay would continue but that you had to stay on the plane for safety reasons. At this point, you wondered if you would even make it to Dublin before Christmas… maybe you just had to spend Christmas in London alone, so the bad luck that seemed to follow you around could not rub off on anyone else.

At least the cabin crew would – once again – make their rounds and hand out free drinks, food, and some blankets.

Realizing that you hadn’t registered how cold it actually was on the plane, you made sure to profusely thank the brunette flight attendant, who handed you one of the British Airways branded blue fleece blankets, wrapping it around your upper body and legs you had pulled up on the seat after taking your shoes off. There was no way you were going to be (physically) uncomfortable today.

You turned your attention back to Rob, only to see him already looking at you. Actually looking at you and not the 'barely holding eye contact' thing he had done earlier, now he was staring at you, his eyes rapidly moving like he had forgotten what you looked like and was now trying to commit every part of you to his memory.

It made that mixture of feelings you had felt bubbling up inside you when you had first seen him earlier, return. Just this time, the feelings of butterflies in your stomach, that you always used to get whenever you had looked at him, were more prominent than any other feeling.

Fuck… great work! Thirty-five minutes spent next to your ex and boom… you were right back to feeling head over heels for him.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of you knowing what to say now, because what do you talk about with your ex-partner when you didn’t plan to see them never mind being stuck in an airplane that could not take off due to the sudden onset of winter. No one had ever written a handbook of how to act if you were ever stuck in a situation like this. No one. Especially not on how to act when you are actually still very much in love with said former partner, making the doubts you had always had about you going your separate ways, appear even greater.

The breakup had been mutual. You both barely had time for each other anymore and at that point in time it had seemed like the only reasonable decision to make. You had finished university that summer, he was practically always on tour or in the studio and when you had gotten that job offer for your current job in London you realized that things would only get harder from there on out. So, you moved to London, Robert stayed in Dublin – when he was not on tour – and then you broke up.

Of course, you had promised to stay in touch, to stay friends but you both knew that that was not happening. You couldn’t stay friends with him, not when you were still head over heels in love with him.

That’s why the breakup still hurt, even though you had not been with him in well over a year. You had tried to move on, had hooked up with a few people here and there, had gone out on the dates your new friends had set you up on but no one made you feel the way he did, so you gave up trying and slowly came to terms with the fact that you would maybe never be as in love again as you had been when you were twenty.

You sighed, trying to shake your thoughts as you fished your phone out of your jeans pocket.

20:21

Even with the initial hour and twenty minutes delay of the flight, you should’ve been long in the air by now, scratch that you should be more than halfway to Dublin by now. You sighed again, before typing out a message to your mother, telling her that you were still in Heathrow and didn’t know when you'd be home. Her answer came quickly, reassuring you that she would be there to pick you up from the airport when you landed, whenever that may be.

Putting your phone away you turned your attention back on Rob, who seemed to be so deep in his own thoughts, that even though he was looking at you, he was more looking through you.

“Are you alright?” You sounded more concerned than you were.

“Yeah yeah, I’m all right. Just a bit tired,” He smiled at you. “It's just– you know… I have missed you. A lot.”

Oh.

“I’ve been for a while actually,” He chuckled awkwardly. “The last year has been one of the strangest of my life. The juxtaposition of all the success with the lads, all the sold-out shows, festivals… all the fun and good stuff that has happened and then missing you all the time, missing us. It is a lot.”

Robert’s admission hit you like a ton of bricks. Holy fucking shit.

“Don’t say that.” Your voice was breaking. Why was your voice breaking?

“No, I mean it,” Rob's voice wasn’t steady, but he continued, reaching for your hands, and giving them a gentle squeeze. It was the first time he touched you that evening, leaving your skin feeling like it was on fire everywhere his met yours.

“No, you don’t get to say that shit after I spent over a year being heartbroken.” Your emotions were running wild now. “Not after I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably never love anyone like I love you.”

There it was. Your confession. Out in the open.

“We both decided it was for the better to call things off,” Robert cringed at the words. But he was right, it had been a mutual decision. “You can’t put all the blame on me… if I had known how difficult this would be I would’ve never done it.” You could tell he was getting worked up over this, but you could not blame him for that. You weren’t doing any better really. “I would’ve moved to this damn city for you!”

“Don’t say that.” There it was again. “Robert, you would have hated it here. You would have been away from the lads, you would have had to commute between London and Dublin all the fucking time,” you tried to keep your voice as low as possible, which proved to be difficult the longer this went on. “That’s no way to live, baby. We would have been miserable.”

He was silent for a while, his hands still holding onto yours as if you were the anchor keeping him grounded but he wasn’t looking at you anymore. Now you squeezed his hands.

“Bobby there is no use in pretending you wouldn’t have been absolutely fucking miserable here,” You sniffled trying not to cry. “I would not have had time for you, and you would not have had time for me. We would have lived two separate times, believe me, we would have resented each other after a few months.”

“Still,” he tried to argue. “I’ve been pretty fucking miserable this year without you too.” He was finally looking at you again, his eyes slightly glassed over.

You didn’t know what to say to that and before you could think of something, the intercom turned on again.

“Good evening, my name is Richard Jones, I’ll be your Captain tonight and I am happy to report that we’ve finally got cleared to take off.” Finally. “We will be making our way onto the tarmac in about ten minutes. Since we are obviously not the only plane waiting to take off, we will have to wait for a little bit longer, but we should be in the air in the next thirty minutes or so. We, again, apologise for the delay, if you have any more questions our cabin crew will be happy to answer them. We thank you for your patience!”

You felt like a weight was finally being taken off your shoulders. A weight you had carried around with yourself for almost a year now.

You got your phone out again, sending another text to your Mum telling her that you were finally about to take off and actually get home for Christmas. And then… then you took a deep breath turning your attention back to Robert.

Okay, here goes nothing.

“Well since we are sharing,” you smiled at him, still holding his hands. “I’ve missed you too. A lot!”

Before he could answer you, you got interrupted once again.

“Is there anything I can get either of you?” The brunette flight attendant from earlier smiled at you. “Any drinks? Food?”

“Yeah actually,” you turned your attention from Rob to the brunette woman. “Could we get two red wines and a pack of salt crisps? Thank you so much!”

You took the two wines and crisps, setting one of the wines down in front of Robert.

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” You grinned at him, who would have thought this day would end like this? You certainly didn’t. “Cheers!”

The both of you talked a lot. About everything that had happened since your breakup, about how much you missed each other, about your job and the band.

You told him how proud you were of him and the lads, that even though it had hurt to see them everywhere, your happiness for their success outweighed the heartbreak of – at the time – knowing that you would probably never get to tell them that in the way you had done for years before. That you missed your friends in Dublin but that your new job and friends in London were great. How much you had fallen in love with this city. And how much you hated not at least trying to stay in contact with Eli or Josh.

In turn, he told you about how much he loved touring, how he and the lads had grown even closer, how crazy eventful this year had been and how glad he was that they were taking a little break. Taking things slow but already working on album number three.

You talked about your confessions from earlier. That you both were obviously miserable without each other, that you still loved each other greatly and what it meant for you going forward.

With your head on his shoulder, you talked for the whole flight, in hushed whispers, laughing every now and again.

And if the confessions had taken a heavy weight off your shoulder earlier, this – the hushed talking, the little giggles, and the handholding – made you feel weightless. Made you feel like you were on top of the world again. All because the man you loved was still in love with you.

You were holding hands when you finally walked out of the airplane at 22:25. Finally back home in Dublin you thought. And you continued to do so when you waited to pick up your baggage, which of course took another fifteen minutes but at this point, what were those extra fifteen minutes? If anything, it was more time with Robert which you gladly accepted.

“Is anyone here to pick you up?” You looked up at Rob, while you were still waiting for your broken suitcase, to arrive on the baggage conveyor belt.

“Sent a message to my Ma while we were getting ready to land,” He answered. “Is that your bag?” He asked pointing to the black suitcase, which was indeed yours. “She should be here by now and if not, I’ll just have to wait a few minutes,” he grabbed your suitcase, grabbing your hand again and interlocking your fingers. “Your Mum is picking you up, right?”

“Hmm,” you hummed as you walked through the automatic doors. “There she is actually.” Your pace got faster after you spotted her in between the dozens of other people who were waiting for their loved ones to finally arrive. “C’mon.”

You felt your fingers slip out of Robert's hand a few meters before you reached your mother, practically running into her open arms. Only once you were back in your mother’s arms did you realize how tired you actually were.

“Oh my god I’ve missed you so much,” you sighed. “I don’t think I have ever been this happy to be back home.

“Oh, it is so good to have you back, sweetheart!” Your mother replied kissing your cheek before spotting Rob who had given your little reunion some space. “Robert it's good to see you again darling.”

She pulled him into her arms, just like she had done with you earlier but not before side-eying you. This was going to be fun to explain later.

“Okay let’s get you home,” your mother sighed, grabbing your suitcase. “Is there anyone to pick you up, Robert?”

“Yeah, my Mums on her way,” he smiled down at her. “I’ll wait outside for her; don’t worry she'll be here in a few minutes.”

The three of you walked through the airport, towards the car park, your mother in the front with your suitcase, Robert, and you behind her with the rest of your baggage.

“I’ll get the car,” Your mother said when you stepped outside, the cool air blowing through your hair. “You wait here I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Before you could answer her, she was already gone, leaving you and Robert alone. Smart woman, you thought to yourself.

You turned your attention back to Robert, smiling brightly, before resting your head against his chest. You stood in silence, the chilly wind still blowing through your hair. You did not feel the need to say something. Everything you needed to get off your chest you had talked about with Robert. You would rather just stay where you were right now, in his arms and pressed against his chest just like you had done a hundred times before.

“I’ll see you in January,” he smiled, carefully grabbing your face, and pulling it from his chest to look at you. “Right?”

“Yeah,” you hummed, hearing the honking of a car, and turning around to see your mother waiting for you. “I’ll keep my bed warm for you!” You chuckled, leaning into his touch. “I promise.”

“I’ll know you will love,” Robert grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” another kiss. This time his lips landed on your right temple, right next to your eye. “I love you!”

The last kiss he pressed to the tip of your nose. Just like he had done on your first date, years ago.

“I love you.” You replied, kissing the skin right below his chin, before nuzzling your nose into his neck. It was crazy how fast you fell into old patterns.

Your mother honked again, which you took as your sign to let go of Robert and get into the car. Before leaving his warm embrace, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, his skin still feeling warm beneath your lips.

You walked to the car, put your backpack on the backseat and before she could even ask you answered the question you knew she was dying to ask you.

“It’s a long story.”

note: if you liked this imagine, don’t forget to like, comment and/or reblog, that’d be greatly appreciated! xx

taglist: (if you’d like to be tagged please let me know!) @tractorbeamofwoe @1twontalwaysbelikethiss @vanmccannsfridge

[calcifiedunderland]

Pride & Prejudice: A TWSTed AU

The Merchant from the Depths: A. Ashengrotto

Introduction, or pick another route!

Azul x GN Reader (they/them)

Warnings: Azul is (lovingly) a sus dumbass and businessman, P&P level angst and insults, I got carried away and this is 6k words im so sorry

—

Azul was staring at you again.

Surprisingly, at this point you were sort of used to it. If anything, you stared back at him, dead in the eye, until he broke eye contact, adjusting his glasses or ruffling his hair. Still, it unnerved you a bit more than you’d care to admit.

Ever since his overblot, you noticed that he’d make his presence known around you. Whether it was Azul himself, or Jade or Floyd lurking around your general vicinity and eventually herding you near Mostro Lounge, it was starting to get a little concerning. Especially because of that strange look in his eye when he thought you weren’t looking.

Still, you got some weird signals from Azul, because sometimes he’d chat with you (and not-so-subtly get you to sign a deal with him). Other times, he’d hardly meet your eyes at all.

So now, you decided to ruffle him. It wasn’t like you could go toe-to-toe (tentacle-to-tentacle?) with Azul without causing a massive headache, and staring back at him was hardly the worst thing one could do at NRC. So, you initiated a staring contest with him. You won every time, and he always slunk back with pink dusting his cheeks. The bitter shame of defeat, you thought proudly. Nevermind that it was cute seeing a different side to him, your stomach doing flips.

Meanwhile, still slumped in his seat, Azul attempted to cool his face off. Sevens, you always seemed to surprise him. Humans were so odd - just when he thought he had you all figured out, you always did something that threw him off guard. It appears you weren’t the quiet Prefect all of the time. As class ended and he walked back to Octavinelle, his mind drifted.

The past few weeks following his overblot were strange, indeed. Three days earlier, he sat across from you in his office, smug that he’d finally get Ramshackle. Then a few days later, he was returning the very photo he’d contracted you to steal, and rethinking everything he thought about you. The landfolk always talk about sirens in the sea, he thought irritably as he rubbed his temple, staring down a blank contract. But if the landfolk had their version of sirens, you’d be it.

He tapped the fishbone quill against his desk, gritting his teeth. He didn’t know how much time had passed until Jade entered his office, followed by Floyd who leaned against the doorframe. “Azul, we have this week’s profits-“ Jade stopped when he saw him, “oh? Are you alright? Have you been overworking?”

Azul sighed, flopping back in the armchair. Jade hummed, “perhaps it has to do with a meddling someone?” Azul’s face flushed, and Jade had his answer.

“Fufu, this is interesting,” Jade grinned and watched as Azul composed himself, pushing his glasses up. “We have reasonable proof that the Prefect also shares feelings for you, Azul.” The dorm leader stopped and looked at him.

“…Really?” He asked, resting a hand beneath his elbow and propping his head up. “What proof?

“Who else but the only other soul in the school who dorms with them?” A grin spread slowly across Azul’s face, and he hummed to himself, pleased, “I suppose I should… affirm this for myself. Thank you, Jade.” His glasses glinted ominously in the light as the twins matched his grin. “You should turn in for the night, I’ll be here.” He snapped his fingers and a blank piece of golden parchment unfurled itself midair. “I should make preparations.”

———

Grim had never been this hungry nor intimidated in his life. And never at the same time.

It all started when he went to the cafeteria to get something for lunch, and he was stopped by Azul’s two lackeys. Then, he was whisked into Mostro Lounge with the promises of all the tuna he could want, with desserts!, if only he’d have a little chat with the Housewarden. Despite his grumbling stomach, he was still coherent enough to know bad idea, big no-no. Prefect will yell at you.

Then he saw the buffet of tuna on the table and all reason left him.

He lunged at the table, already drooling, when Floyd caught him around his midsection, “Ah ah ah, sealie,” he grinned ominously, “you gotta talk to the boss!”

At that moment, Azul strode into the room, blue dorm uniform jacket billowing behind him. “Ah, Grim, so good of you to join us.” He seated himself next to the head of the table, where Floyd plopped Grim down. Grim watched dazedly as Floyd and Jade moved to stand behind his chair, while Azul was already pulling out a lengthy contract followed by a little inkpot.

“I understand that you and the Prefect are close? Perhaps, you’d be willing to tell me a bit more… about them,” Azul smirked, watching the fear and hunger swirl in Grim’s eyes. The little cat monster leaned away from him, and Azul loomed closer. “I ain’t telling you anythin’!” He’s still loyal, griped Azul internally. But Azul wasn’t the infamous business-mer of Octavinelle for nothing.

“Of course, of course!” He waved a hand, adjusting his glasses with the other, “I would never want to pry! After all,” he smirked dangerously at Grim, who felt a shiver run down his back, “I am a changed man! And I have the Prefect to thank for it.”

As if on cue, Jade and Floyd leaned down closer to Grim, and he could feel their breaths on his fur. Azul continued, watching Grim’s composure crack with satisfaction, now we’re getting somewhere. “I simply want to thank the Prefect with an… alliance,” he took a saucer and spooned out some expensive tuna, piling it on a cracker, “one that would, of course benefit them. Benefit you.”

Grim opened his mouth to protest, but Azul stuffed the cracker into his mouth. He grinned at the twins, “today is simply the first day of negotiations. If you tell me what I want to know, then this sumptuous feast-“ he brandished a gloved hand to the table laden with food “-is yours. But this is the first of many to come.”

He leaned closer to Grim, satisfied that the hunger in the cat monster’s eyes was growing after whetting his appetite with the tuna cracker. “If your information proves useful, and the Prefect and I form a relationship, I will provide you with high quality foods and comfort.”

To drive the point, Azul topped a cracker with tuna, “including all the tuna,” he added a spoonful of caviar, “you could ever,” he squeezed a lemon over it, “want.”

Grim’s eyes were sparkling, and he opened his mouth as Azul brought the cracker closer to him. Suddenly Azul stuffed the cracker into his own mouth, and Grim’s face fell. Azul’s smirk grew, and he leaned back nonchalantly chewing on the caviar, pleased at the lemon’s tang, “but of course, this depends on how well you help me. You’ll be able to eat after our little chat, don’t worry. I’ll be contacting you for information later today.”

Azul could see the exact millisecond that Grim relented. Eyes sparkling, Grim yelled “HECK YEAH!” And stuffed a paw into the inkpot before Azul could react. Grim slammed his paw where the signature line was, ink splattering on the tablecloth, but Azul didn’t care. Yes, you’ve played right into my grasp, he grinned and snapped his fingers. As the twins backed off and Grim catapulted himself into the middle of the table, Azul chuckled to himself as he ambled back to his office, the Prefect is as good as mine.

———

That’s odd, you thought as you glanced at the clock, Grim should be here by now.

He didn’t come to lunch today, and you hadn’t seen him in a while. It wasn’t usually like Grim to skip a meal, and now it was late evening, and you still didn’t know where he was.

You sighed. You had no energy to deal with this. It was slowly getting later and later, and it was already dark out when you heard the front door open and saw Grim trudging in, looking exhausted.

“Grim!” You scooped him up and hugged him, “where were you?! I was so worried! Don’t do that again!” You blubbered, “are you hungry?” “Nope!” Grim said quickly, which made you a little suspicious. Grim? Not hungry? Sure, when the Scalding Sands freezes over.

“Did you eat?” Grim tensed in your grip, “yeah! Just- stop askin’ questions henchhuman! You worry too much.” He got out of your arms and padded off. “Grim, where did you go?” Grim stopped, eyes wide. “Don’t worry about it!” He raced up to your room, while you frowned behind him. You were definitely worrying about it.

———

Earlier that day, Grim went to his classes after lunch, completely content after his meal at Mostro Lounge and forgetting about his deal. After clubs, he began making his way back to Ramshackle when two shadows loomed behind him. Squeaking, he turned back and lo and behold, Jade and Floyd were grinning at him.

“Eh~ Has sealie-o forgot his little promise?” Floyd cackled, grabbing Grim, “don’t worry, we didn’t!~” It was at that moment Grim knew; he fucked up. This was a mistake. A trap. A grim Grim error. The twins strode into the hall of mirrors, heading straight for Azul’s office. Floyd plopped Grim down on the seat across from Azul, who rested his chin on his intertwined hands. Grim shivered as Azul’s glasses glinted ominously in the light. Azul tapped his quill twice against the desk, smirking assuredly.

“Now, let us begin~”

———

“Grim, what’s this all about?

You were almost running behind your cat monster, who seemed a little too skittish to be without blame. Ever since he came home late that day, he’d been oddly quiet. It all started when you got a letter addressed to you.

My dearest Prefect,

I hope this message finds you well. In light of what transpired before winter break, I’ve realized that I never properly thanked you for helping me.

As such, it would be my honor to host you at Mostro Lounge this evening. I cordially invite you to dinner tonight, please arrive punctually. I look forward to seeing you soon.

Yours,

Azul Ashengrotto

When you tried to find Jade and Floyd (Sevens only knew how long you looked for Azul himself before you gave up), they merely smiled ominously at you and remained just out of reach. As the evening approached, you were left only with confusion and a very skittish Grim. For the past week, he’d come back to Ramshackle later and later, but curiously he wasn’t hungry at all. This was odd - your little cat monster was always down for tuna. Except now.

When you mentioned the dinner to him, he laughed nervously and curiously didn’t ask to tag along. “Why? Its a dinner at Mostro Lounge. Its free. Don’t you want food?” Grim gulped, rubbing the top of his head strangely. “A-and see those two weirdos an’ Azul again? No way!” Still, you noticed his ears pinning back on his head. He’s scared.

“What did they do?” Your eyes narrowed and Grim flinched. “Nothin! You should go to your date!” “Grim, its not a date…” you turned to the letter thoughtfully, “or is it?” “For the love of- YES ITS A DATE! I’m not gonna let that contract go to nothin’!” Grim screeched, the flames on his ears flaring up. Wait… why was it purple and growing out of his head?

“Grim what did you do?!” You watched in horror as an anemone grew out of Grim’s head yet again. “You signed a contract with him?! Why the hell did you do that?!” Grim’s face fell into shock. “Uh oh, I wasn’t supposed to tell ya that…”

With that, the cat monster raced out of the room and made a beeline straight for the Octavinelle mirror. “Grim!” You ran after him, tripping as you fell into the mirror. You thudded on the floor, panting, until two pairs of nice dress shoes came into sight. “Hello, Prefect,” Jade greeted with a hand on his chest. Floyd picked you up by the shoulders and dusted you off. “Welcome to Mostro Lounge~”

The Lounge is… different, you realized. For starters, there was no one there - usually around this time, there’d be customers. Did the Lounge close early tonight? The ambience also was… new. Sure, it was always a little dark since it was underwater-ish, but now there were candle-lit tables flickering, highlighting a central table with two chairs. Somehow it felt very… intimate.

Surely this was some kind of weird prank? “...whats going on?” you looked at the twins, who started chuckling. You suddenly got your bearings back, voice rising in pitch, “Where is Grim?!”

“Ah, Prefect, you’ve arrived.”

You looked up, eyes widening. Azul strode into the Lounge, pearlescent and practically gleaming. His hair was slicked back, and he was dressed smartly in a light greyish-blue suit. He looked opulent, with a layered pearl necklace around his neck reminiscent of his outfit from the festival at Noble Bell. Instead of his usual rectangle glasses, he wore his round-lens frames. In his left breast pocket was a dark blue rose, which he carefully took and held out to you. “Its wonderful of you to join us. Shall we begin?”

What in the cinnamon toast fuck was going on?

—--

Last night, Azul came up with 862 date plans to ensure you had fun. And you will have fun!

He managed to get his money’s (and tuna buffet’s) worth after making (convincing) Grim to sign that contract with him. When Floyd dropped Grim into the seat across from him, Azul grilled him on your interests.

All night, he pored over his notes, going over every detail that Grim said. His main questions were answered, like Is the Prefect looking for a partner?, What does the Prefect want in a partner?, What is the Prefect attracted to?, and so on. In the end, he left his last question unanswered - partially because Grim looked far too frazzled to answer, and because Azul was too scared to ask.

His final question: Does the Prefect love me back? remained unanswered at the bottom of the page. Thankfully, he thought as he pulled your chair out and had you sit down, I don’t need to answer it. You will love me by the end of the night!

As Azul sat down across from you, you gulped. You severely underestimated what this dinner would be. But with Azul dressed to the nines, the twins snickering over your shoulders, and Grim being skittish all day, this could only mean one thing: you were going to have a literal romantic candle-lit dinner with the same dude who nearly made you homeless and made Grim an anemone.

It sickened you. It was overwhelming. So much that you could hardly get any words out as Jade wafted to the table carrying platters of your favorite foods, while Azul laced his fingers together and observed you so gently. It wasn’t like you could get any words in, because Azul began talking at you, Jade started grinning, and you were just reeling. You could hear Floyd humming along with the sizzle of frying oil, and became hyperfocused on random things: Jade’s golden eye. The candle flame flickering. The smell of food. And Azul’s analytical eyes watching you as he spoke.

As Azul began a long tirade about ‘how lovely it was to finally sit down and speak with you Prefect! I do appreciate your time, as you can see we’ve prepared the Lounge to your taste! We hope the food is to your liking and-‘ you cut him off.

“Azul, where is Grim?” You said flatly, putting down your knife and fork. You weren’t even eating anyway, you’d just shoved the food around the plate. By now you were tired of asking questions and wanted answers, dammit. Azul’s eyes widened, and he leaned on his elbow. “Grim is fine! In fact, he was kind enough to tell me all about you.”

You tensed. This wasn’t good. You weren’t necessarily hiding anything, but it wasn’t like you wanted Azul to know things he shouldn’t. “…like what?” You asked, taking up your drink and sipping it slowly. If Azul was going to be coy, you would too. You wouldn’t lose your composure to him.

Azul leaned forward, smirk growing. “Many things,” he tapped a gloved finger against his cheek, “your preferred foods, your aesthetic or decor, and curiously,” his eyes locked onto yours, “your interest in me.”

Strictly speaking, that was a bluff; Grim hadn’t told him that. But as you visibly grew flustered, he thought he hit the nail on the head. “Now now, don’t worry, we didn’t discuss anything bad! Rather, after speaking to him, I have a proposal that I believe would interest you greatly.”

He snapped his fingers, and a gleaming golden contract unfurled beside him. Pushing up his glasses, Azul seemed to smile gently at you. “Now, you would gain plenty things - a free meal at Mostro Lounge per week, a consistent stream of gifts, flowers delivered to Ramshackle every Monday, along with meetings with me each Saturday-” He was about to continue when you cut him off.

“This… this has to be some kind of trick,” you muttered, dazed. You didn’t even realize you said it out loud until Azul’s gaze softened, “No, I’m being completely serious, Prefect. I-“ “What is this?” You demanded, straightening up.

Azul visibly bristled at your words, practiced businessman-smile wavering. “This? This is just a fraction of what I can give you!” He forced himself to keep his composure, “o-of course we can amend the contract-“ “Azul! What is the contract for?!” By now you were beyond worried. You had no idea where Grim disappeared to, and had no explanation about this dinner thing Azul clearly dressed to the nines for. “What am I agreeing to?!”

Azul went pink. “I-I…” you could overhear Jade snickering in the kitchen while something seemed to fall over. Azul cleared his throat, starting to look strangely shy. “I would like you to be my partner.” You frowned deeply, “I’m not working with you. Why do you want me to be your business partner anyway?” At your words, you heard Jade and Floyd bark in laughter while Azul looked like he wanted to sink into his suit

“I mean.. romantically,” he whispered. Your eyes widened while your heart pounded. Slowly, things started to fall into place. Your eyes narrowed, this was too good to be true. “Why?” Azul’s eyes widened, “well, why not?” You stayed silent, just looking at him. Despite being in a not-enemy-situation with Azul, you didn’t exactly forget what transpired before winter break. How you and Jack walked into Octavinelle with the twins, and sat across from Azul as he tried to kick you and Grim out of Ramshackle. And how he gave you backhanded insult after insult, and for what? For him to come up to you now, months later, just to tug on your heartstrings?

He still wanted Ramshackle after all that soul-searching at the Atlantica Museum? Anger burned hot in your stomach. Had he no shame?

Azul grew nervous at your silence. Foolishly, he rambled to fill the quiet, “w-well, you’re quite the intriguing human. Not many have successfully defied my contracts. And I… understand that our first meeting was… less than ideal…” He carefully watched for your reactions, but your face was unreadable, “but I am willing to make amends. I’ve grown affectionate of you, and I believe that I can provide you with enough benefits to make you happy.” He tried for a debonair smile and pointed to the contract, “You will receive many things and more. Quite honestly, this deal is very unlike me - truly, I’m going against my own better judgement.”

This had to be a dream. You laughed humorlessly, surprising him. “And what do you receive?” Azul smiled gently at you, “All I really want is you.” You barked out a laugh, feeling so emotionally exhausted you could cry. “Yeah, sure, and Ramshackle right?” Azul’s eyes widened and he hurriedly tried to explain, “No, of course not-” “Yeah right!” You stood up, glaring down at him. “This-this is some kind of trick right?!” You grabbed the contract and scanned it:

“In accordance with help from Grim, he shall be compensated fittingly for the following tasks:

1) Providing information on the Prefect, (Name)’s, interests in a partner

2) Helping with distinguishing of the Prefect’s preferred romantic aesthetics (dining, love language, physical attributes, personality, etc.)

3) Meeting for the summation of one (1) week to discuss topics regarding (Name)

If Grim tells the Prefect, (Name), details regarding Azul Ashengrotto’s plans before the intended date, then he shall be indebted to Azul for an indefinite time as an anemone-worker.”

You didn’t even bother reading the rest of it. Your eyes were locked on the last line.

“You extorted Grim?!” you screeched, making Jade and Floyd stick their heads out the kitchen door. “You extorted Grim and you expect me to date you?!” Azul tried to calm you down, “Yes- I mean no- I just asked him a few questions! He was compensated with food-” “So that’s why he came back late?! This was what Grim was being weird about?” You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, rubbing your eyes and feeling a few tears come out. “I knew that letter had to be some kind of trick. I knew this was a mistake.” Azul bristled, “a mistake?! Do you have any idea how long this took to prepare?! I could date anyone in this school, but I chose you! Against my own better judgement!”

“Yeah,” you agreed, looking him dead in the eye. “You chose the human with ‘no innate magical power.’” Azul flinched, but you blazed on, hyperventilating, “You chose the ‘utterly run-of-the-mill’ human with the one thing you want - Ramshackle.” Azul finally shut up, he talks too much you thought bitterly. “You’ve insulted me in every possible way. You’ve tried to extort me, you’ve taken advantage of Grim twice, and now you’re trying to play with my emotions to kick me out of Ramshackle! Again!” You clenched your fists, vision tunneling. “Are you kidding me?! I am never! Going to date you!” you shoved the now-crumpled contract into Azul’s chest as he blubbered. “I’m not signing that contract! You are the last person I would date on this campus!”

The silence that followed hung in the air thickly. As you breathed heavily, you realized the weight of your words. Azul was by no means a person to make an enemy of, but you had spoken the truth. And he seemed to realize that. “Then if that’s your decision, there’s no point in continuing this dinner.”

Azul sighed quietly, “Floyd, bring Grim out. Let them leave.” Grim bounded up to you, puffing angrily until you gave him a look, “ you, Grim, are in so much trouble.”

—---

The next few weeks were quiet. And considerably unsupervised by two eels and an octopus.

After you told your friends about what happened, unsurprisingly Ace and Deuce were angry. Jack was pissed too, “you’re tellin’ me Azul still wants Ramshackle?! After all this time?” Jack clenched his fists while Deuce had a crazed ‘delinquent’ look. “I thought we showed him not to mess with ya’ before! Even after making us anemone’s he doesn’t know when to quit!”

You sighed, already tired. “look, nothing’s happened. I don’t think he’ll try anything.” Not after you wrecked his ego.

Jack crossed his arms, “that octopunk better not be plotting. He may honor a contract, but you can’t trust a schemer.” You shrugged, “He can’t do anything because I didn’t sign the contract, so even if he did want Ramshackle, he’d have to go about it differently. Anyway,” you glanced at the time, “Lunch is about to end. See you guys after class, c’mon Grim.” You all parted ways, and you and Grim walked into History of Magic.

You listened to Professor Trein drone on, and after a while of notetaking, he cleared his throat. “To end this unit, I will be assigning a project in which you will report on the magical history of a specific place. I have randomly assigned you a place to report on,” he regarded the room full of groaning students, gesturing to the table behind him “you have one month to finish it. Class dismissed. The area you will report on is listed on the papers behind me, beside your name.” Students flocked to the table, and you waited a bit for everyone to clear out while you collected your things.

Finally, you walked to the table and flipped the papers, looking for your and Grim’s names while Trein hummed at the podium. Lucius slunk between your ankles, purring softly while your heart sank at what you had to report on.

“The Coral Sea?” You looked up at Trein, “S-sir, I won’t be able to-” “Why not?,” the man asked, picking Lucius up. You mirrored him and picked Grim up, who crossed his arms, “nya, its Azul’s ‘n his hencheels’ home!” Way to be obvious, Grim. Trein raised an eyebrow, “It’s always good to learn more about others’ homelands. It may do you and Grim good to learn more about this world, and from what I gather, you have been there before.” You flinched, but Trein didn’t seem to condemn you. “However, you aren’t the only terrestrial student assigned an aquatic area. While I won’t make every student visit their assigned areas, I believe it will be beneficial if you visit them. I will speak to Professor Crewel about providing you underwater breathing potions.”

While that wasn’t what you were worried about, you still appreciated it. “Thank you, Professor,” you shouldered Grim, determined. “We won’t let you down.”

—---

After about a week of waiting, and getting jumpscared by Crowley who gave you an underwater breathing potion after singing his own praises (“ah! How generous I am!~”), you and Grim headed to the Dark Mirror. “The Coral Sea,” you called out, gulping, “The Atlantica Memorial Museum.” As the Mirror swirled, so too did your mind as you stepped in after taking the potion.

You floated in the water for a moment. The last time I was here was… Ah, right. When you were stealing from the museum, and when you returned the photo with everyone. The photo… you swam towards the museum, which was thankfully open this time. You willfully ignored the mer-museum goers, some who looked surprised to see a human. You supposed you couldn’t blame them, though - you were floored when you saw the twins’ eel forms for the first time.

You and Grim swam around the exhibits for a bit, with you taking notes and Grim finding the information. Even though you didn’t really want to do the assignment in the first place, you couldn’t deny that it was fascinating seeing human ‘artifacts’ from a merfolk perspective. You were able to get a good amount of material - from the mermaid princess’ hairbrush (which was just a fork?), the Sea King’s trident, and a replica of the Sea Witch’s crown and nautilus. The museum even had some of her old makeup products - which was a shellfish she squeezed. Cool. Anyway.

Now you and Grim were tired, and it was around late lunchtime since you got to the museum as soon as it opened. As you both headed out, Grim stretched, swirling in the water, “henchhuman, I’m hungry!,” his eyes lit up and despite the oceanwater, you swore you could see drool, “Ya think the Coral Sea has any good eats?! Oh, imagine the seafood…!” You noted that the potion duration still had some time left, but still. You were hungry too after using all your energy swimming, and it wasn’t like you’d be back in the Coral Sea anytime soon. After thinking, you nodded, “sure, we can go look.”

The museum was close to the ‘city,’ so you both swam around. A few merfolk murmured in surprise at seeing a human and cat, but you tried to ignore it. Suddenly Grim gasped, “nya, the Mostro Lounge?!” Your head snapped up to the bioluminescent sign. A swirl of emotions went through you, while Grim blanked out remembering his contract. It isn’t like you’ll see Azul here (name). You’ll be fine. “...Azul did say that the Lounge at school is a sister location, I think…” Still, this place looks way too fancy. You definitely couldn’t afford it.

“Welp, we can’t afford it Grim, lets go-” you tried to swirl around and swim off but you were a little clumsy in the water. You knocked over a shell decoration at the entrance accidentally, and Grim crashed into a merman guest. “Hey! Easy there- wait, a human?!” Oh no, immediately the merfolk zeroed in on you. You stiffened nervously. You caught some whispers, “Are they a student?,” “Look, they have a Night Raven College uniform,” “Wow! A human!”

You looked around nervously, unconsciously backing into the restaurant when you heard a female voice behind you. “Oh, are you a student at Night Raven College?” You whirled around, crashing into the tentacles of an older mer-octopus lady. She didn’t seem fazed, but smiled widely at you. Even before she introduced herself, you recognized those eyes and well-placed mole.

“Hello dear! I run this restaurant, my son goes to your school as well! Perhaps you know him?” She held your gaze, but you could feel her tentacles fixing your collar and blazer, while she dusted your shoulders off with her hands. “I- I might,” you stammered, “I’m (name).” “Oh, its so nice to meet one of my baby’s friends! He’s told me all about you!” As she grabbed Grim around the torso with a tentacle, she firmly grasped your shoulders. “Please, you must have something to eat!” As she steered you to a table, you tried to gather your bearings. You were seated, and she thrust a menu into your hands.

“It’s so nice to meet you, (name)! You’re the prefect, right?” Your eyes widened, but she continued. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Azul’s mother! My son is the Octavinelle housewarden,” she said proudly, confirming your suspicions. “Really?,” you asked, wondering what the odds were that you’d meet the mother of the guy you viciously dumped. She took your surprise for confusion, “Yes, I believe you two know each other? He’s mentioned you before. I’ll ask him later!” she beamed, “Please, pick whatever you’d like from the menu! It’s all on the house for my baby’s friends!” She winked, and you managed a nervous smile while Grim cheered. You shakingly pointed out a few foods, and she whisked off to the kitchen in a stream of bubbles.

A few minutes later, she walked back with way more plates than you ordered, and sat down next to you. Even after you asked if she’d like any food, she refused, and simply said “I just want to talk with you! I’ve heard a lot about you~” That made you nervous, but you complied. After the first few minutes, you relaxed a bit, and made easy conversation with her. Even Grim seemed more carefree, after inhaling about five plates of Coral Sea tuna, which she herself made, to your surprise.. Azul definitely got his conversational ability from her, you thought. While Azul used his chattiness to talk people into a contract, his mother used it for hospitality. It was no wonder the original Mostro Lounge was a hit - it was all because of her ability, inside the kitchen and out. This was nice, you thought tenderly.

“It’s good to hear that my baby’s doing well,” she hummed. “I’m glad he has some land friends. I sometimes worry he works too hard,” she chuckled, reminiscent. “You know, he’s always had a hard time opening up to others, outside of the Leech brothers. He’s always had his head in his contracts, he certainly got that from my husband. I’m glad he’s opened up a bit more. I’m glad he has you,” she smiled gently. You felt a bundle of nerves well up inside you, but you simply nodded. “Y-yeah…”

“Well! If you’re finished with your food, then it’s time for dessert!” In a blink of an eye, she swept up the plates with her tentacles and rose from the chair, winking. “I know just the thing! Wait here.” You tried to protest, but she left too quickly. Grim hummed happily while you slunk down in your seat. Azul has a hard time opening up. Was the contract… his way of doing that? I didn’t even hear him out… “Grim,” you asked quietly, “was I too harsh on Azul?” Grim looked up, pondering. “Nya? Henchhuman, you can’t be havin’ second thoughts! Not after you took my tuna away for three months!” You pursed your lips, but started when you heard your name.

“Prefect?!” You snapped up, wide eyed and staring at… “Azul?!” But… not Azul?

There was the housewarden himself, but not in human form. His merform. You were reminded of his overblot form, but that paled in comparison to now. Azul’s tentacles were longer, even longer than Jade and Floyd’s full merforms. His skin was a light lavender, wait he has abs? and the majority of his body was a smooth, inky black that shimmered mesmerizingly in the ocean light. His eyes and hair were a lovely light blue, but now he looked very panicked at you seeing his true self.

“You- you’re-!” Azul shut his eyes tightly, this isn’t happening please not them too, “Prefect please don’t ever mention this, I swear I’ll give you whatever-!” “You’re beautiful,” you gasped in awe. Azul’s eyes widened, and a deep purple blush spread on his face. “Why- you-!” Suddenly you realized where you were, and scrambled for an explanation while Grim zeroed in on the dessert Azul was holding, “I- we’re here because of Trein’s project, and-!” “Hey Azul, gimme that!”

While Grim dug into the dessert, Azul held his head in his hands, sitting next to you, tentacles curling in on themselves as if to make him smaller. You swished your legs around awkwardly, before saying quietly, “I had no idea you’d be here. I… Why are you here? It’s not a holiday.” “I… went to visit my stepfather for advise on the Lounge. I had permission from the headmaster,” he said finally. “I stopped here to see my mother, and you could imagine my surprise when she said a human student was here,” he chuckled humorlessly. “She told me to bring them dessert, and shoved me out the kitchen. It never crossed my mind it was you.”

You bit your lip and looked away. This was the first time you and him were speaking since that failed dinner. “…I’m sorry,” you said finally. “What I said to you in the Lounge was awful, and-”

“No, in hindsight your reaction was… reasonable,” he said to your surprise, “I admit that my methods weren’t… the best,” he said, as if saying that hurt him. Which you supposed it did - Azul didn’t take failure well. And why would he? When he worked so hard to get where he was?

Grim burped, sighing contentedly while Azul’s mother bustled out of the kitchen. “Zuzu! You found your friend!” Azul flinched at the nickname, blushing again, “Mama, please-” “No! I’m sure poor (name) has been sitting here long enough! Why don’t you two take a little swim, hm?” She wrapped a tentacle around your torsos and shoved you gently out the entrance, smiling pointedly at her son. “I’ll take care of Grimmy, you enjoy yourselves!” Grim yowled in protest, but as she turned, you saw her offering a dessert to pacify him. Old habits die hard, you supposed.

By now, the sun was setting, and the ocean was warmed to a pleasant orange. Your hair swayed gently in the current, and you followed Azul along a path. You both stopped on a high rock and sat down, dangling your lower limbs over the ledge. He hadn’t said a word the entire time. You stared into the distance, “Azul, why did you want me to sign that contract?”

He was quiet. “I told you, I wanted you to be my partner.” He hugged his arms as if to shield himself, “You made it quite clear you didn’t want me. And I’ll respect your choice. You won’t hear a word from me or the twins. I promise.” You bit your lip, “you really meant it?” His eyes widened. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He refused to meet your eyes, but if he did he’d see a smile grow on your face. “You… you didn’t want Ramshackle? Or to… I dunno, get back at me?” “...No. I truly didn’t. I… I really did just want you.” I do want you.

You nudged him gently, “Even against your own better judgement?” you asked jokingly, but he didn’t pick it up. He felt his eyes sting, “I didn’t mean to say that. I panicked and I… even if we…” he swallowed thickly, “I don’t regret falling for you. Even if…” he trailed off, but you felt your heart melt.

“I do foolish things around you,” he whispered. “It’s like all my years of negotiating is gone. But I didn’t want to make you be with me. I wanted you to want to be with me.”

Oh. Oh. Suddenly the jittery feeling you’d had during the dinner came back full-force. “Hey, Azul?” you asked with newfound courage, fueled by adrenaline alone. “You know… you don’t have to make me be with you.” He peeked at you from behind his bangs, eyes wide. Your face started feeling hot, but you grabbed his hand, “I want to be with you too. In every form.”

You didn’t know when you started moving closer to Azul, but right then he dipped his head toward you. His lips captured yours, and he wrapped his arms around you tightly as if trying to make sure that this wasn’t a dream. Immediately your hands cupped his face, and your legs tangled with his limbs. At last, you both pulled away, panting. You were smiling so hard your cheeks began aching.

“Guess I came around in the end, huh?” “Well, my business judgement is always sound, angelfish,” he said smugly, but you weren’t fooled. “You talk to much, Azul,” you giggled, pulling him in for another kiss.

What a memorable trip to the Coral Sea.

~END

———

Notes: spot the spy x family reference lmao. Also, the blue rose signifies secrecy, pride, admiration, and unrequited love! Ngl i had fun writing this, it was so cathartic to write, but this was my longest fic yet holy shit

For the dinner scene this is what I imagined

You: *yelling at Azul during dinner*

Tweels, peeking from the kitchen and eating popcorn, watching it like a telenovela: damn

Anyway!! Thank you so much for reading, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

Taglist: @cerisescherries, @eclecticprincecollector, @ars-tral, @thehollowwriter, @twst-eeps, @casperandcats, @ttokkisbee , @mitsuriswaifu, @parad-ice-lostandfound, @sad-sie, @moyo5653

(If your user is in bold, it means I wasn’t able to tag you properly 😅)

[sidekick-hero]

caught in the careless arms of lust again

metaldeputy | explicit | 5.6k | tags: crossover Fargo/Stranger Things, No Upside Down, Modern AU, pwp | AO3

Dickinson, North Dakota was as much a shithole in Eddie's eyes as Hawkins, Indiana. The only real difference, as far as he can tell, is the cold, which is more biting than even the worst winter he ever experienced back home, and his balls are trying as hard as they can to crawl back into his body.

It's not like he wants to be here. There was no way in hell he was going to spend more time than it took to take a piss and pump some gas into his van in a state that was mostly God-fearing northern rednecks and a whole lot of nothing.

But of course, nothing ever goes according to plan in Eddie Munson's life, and his van broke down just as he was passing through Dickinson on Interstate 94. He'd seen the sign and giggled like a high school kid at the silly name, momentarily distracted and not looking at the road. That's why he didn't notice the damn deer until it was too late, and like the idiot he was, he swerved to avoid it, skidded on the slick icy road, and ended up in the ditch.

Luckily he wasn't going that fast, so after a few feet the car came to a stop in the snow, the engine dead and refusing to start no matter what he tried.

And now his van is in the hands of a guy named Ray at Ray's Auto Electric, while Eddie has to rent a room in a dubious looking hotel called the Badland Inn. It’s fifty bucks a night, which he certainly doesn’t have, but beggars can’t be choosers, and it’s too damn cold to even consider sleeping outside. Ray, who had taken one look at Eddie's long hair and tattoos before seeming to decide he wanted Eddie gone almost as much as Eddie wanted to be gone, said it would be at least three days, maybe more, depending on how fast he could get the part he needed to get his van running again.

And that's why Eddie is sitting in some dive bar, drinking a cheap watered-down beer, wallowing in self-pity, when Deputy Gator Tillman walks into his life.

At first he doesn't even turn his head to look at the man who just sat down next to him, just nods politely while staring into the smudged glass in his hands. It's only when the guy next to him orders a Bud Light, of all things, that Eddie can't help but snort. From what he's seen so far, the men here are manly men, drinking only the bitterest beer and the strongest whiskey while thumping their chests like apes.

"Something funny, shitbird?" The guy snarls at him.

And here we go again, Eddie thinks, already tired of what's sure to come.

"Listen, man," Eddie starts as he turns around to face whoever's ego he just bruised, only to be stopped by the sight in front of him.

The guy's hot, is the first thing that strikes him, square jaw, full lips, droopy eyes, and a slanted nose. His chestnut hair is slicked back and shaved with racetrack lines, as much a part of his machismo as the combat pants and bulletproof vest he's wearing. Too bad his face is just too pretty for any of it to work.

He must have been staring, because the hazel eyes looking back at him narrow even more, his whole face turning into a sneer that's still far more attractive than it has any right to be.

"What are you staring at, asshole?"

A ghost from my past, Eddie thinks. Because he once knew a boy who looked just like the guy before him, a boy who tried so hard to be the epitome of everything a wealthy white businessman's son in Bumfuck Indiana could want. He played all kinds of sports, was captain of the basketball and swim teams, had a new pretty girl on his arm every week, and sneered down at everyone below him as he looked on from his perch at the top of the high school food chain.

King Steve, a man who had been so goddamn pretty that Eddie could still remember all the times he had jerked off to fantasies of those lips and hands, and that juicy ass in Harrington's tiny gym shorts.

The man before him looked different, of course, but much of him was the same. Maybe that was the reason why Eddie didn't stop his mouth from running off on him.

"You. It's a nice view, that's for sure."

Even as he braces himself for a punch, Eddie can't tear his eyes away from the hauntingly familiar face in front of him as he sees the words land. They're mostly harmless. Not even a pretty boy or a sweetheart thrown in there. At least not yet.

The man's eyes widen, just a fraction, just enough for Eddie to notice. Just as Eddie notices the color rising up his neck and the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Gotcha, big boy.

"What did you just say to me?" The guy demands, taking a step forward, invading Eddie's personal space, bringing with him the smell of cologne and old sweat, tinged with something fruity Eddie can't quite put his finger on.

There’s enough of a height difference between them that Eddie can look up at him through his lashes from his seat. He curls his lips into a smile that has just enough edge to draw the guy’s eyes to it and keep them there.

"Paid you a compliment. Don't tell me a handsome guy like you doesn't get those all the time, huh?"

The brazenness makes the other man stumble, Eddie can tell by the way his mouth opens and closes without a sound coming out of it. He catches himself soon enough and leans back, pulling himself up to his full height and bringing his hands to his hips, drawing Eddie's eyes to where the tips of his fingers graze the gun strapped to his thigh.

Okay, this is how they're going to play this, apparently.

"Listen, you fucking pansy, I ain't got no idea why you think you can just come in here and talk to a man of the law like that, but I'm gonna show you where you and your kind can stick your disgusting tendencies."

This makes Eddie smile even wider. His mantra has always been 'fuck the law', so that's exactly what he's going to do. And he's pretty sure this particular lawman wouldn't mind. Just as Eddie is sure now that Harrington wouldn't have been opposed to Eddie's tendencies, but back then Eddie hadn't been the kind of guy to take such a risk. No experience, just a gut feeling, and that wasn't enough to risk getting his nose broken. Or worse.

Now, with more than a decade of hookups with supposedly straight guys under his belt, he knew the signs. And the guy right in front of him? A big fucking neon sign.

"I dunno, Sheriff. Maybe you’d rather I show you where I could stick my tendencies instead. I'm sure you can take it like a man, big boy."

Eddie makes sure to lean in again as he says this, letting his eyes roam over the guy's body in a blatant invitation that he really hopes will be taken. It's not like he has any trouble picking up guys, even in the backwoods he's been traveling through lately, though he does have to be a little more careful. But he wants this one, badly. He's sure he'll look like sin on his knees for Eddie, eyes as round and wet as his mouth wrapped around his dick, begging for anything Eddie is willing to give him.

The guy in front of him doesn't seem to be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he doesn't have to be, Eddie thinks. Not with that face. It takes him more than a few moments to work through Eddie's words, and the first thing he responds to is not what Eddie would think it would be.

"That's my dad." At Eddie's confused look, he adds, "Sheriff. My dad is Sheriff Roy Tillman. I'm his right-hand man, Deputy Sheriff Gator Tillman." He says, standing even straighter, voice dripping with pomposity.

"I figured you'd be a mouthful, Deputy Sheriff Gator Tillman."

Eddie gives him a wolfish grin and licks his lips, eyes focused on what he can make out of the bulge in the deputy's pants, which are frankly a little too loose. Guys like him should wear tight jeans or those gray sweatpants that show off the goods a lot better than fucking combat pants.

"The fuck you talkin' about, numbnuts?"

Yeah, not the sharpest tool in the shed. But maybe this is his chance to defuse the situation, turn it into a joke, and get the hell out before he finds himself behind bars or with his face bashed in. The Eddie of a few years ago would have run, just like he had run when Harrington had him pinned down at Skull Rock after Eddie had taken his flirting a little too far during a weed sale. He'd had the same look in his eyes that he sees on the Deputy's face now.

Hunger masked as anger.

So instead of running, Eddie decides to show his hand. Make his offer clear and see if the Deputy takes him up on it. And if not, he will hole up in the inn and hope that Ray gets his parts as soon as possible.

"I'm talking about your cock, Deputy." Eddie mutters.

He rises and positions himself to cover his hand as it reaches out to squeeze the bulge, feeling it swell under his touch. Big Boy, indeed. He takes a stumbling step forward to have an excuse to press himself against Deputy Tillman's hard body and leans in to whisper in his ear.

"Too bad we don't get to play with it. I'm sure you'd be so good." Eddie clicks his tongue against his teeth with a soft tzk. "But what can you do, right? Have a good evening, Deputy Sheriff Gator Tillman."

Counting on dear Deputy Tillman needing another moment to process what Eddie just said, he steps away from the other man and saunters out, heading toward the inn.

He hasn't even made it out of the parking lot before he hears the sound of heavy footsteps following him outside.

Bingo.

He keeps walking and doesn't turn around, but there's a pleased smile on his face. If the Deputy was going to bash his head in, Eddie hopes he would have done it by now. The footsteps behind him are faster than the saunter Eddie was taking, but they don’t charge at him, just follow a few steps behind.

Eddie makes sure to sway his hips as he walks, feeling the other man's eyes on him the whole way. He can't be sure, but he thinks they're fixed on his ass, and he's glad he put on his skinny jeans that hug his thighs and ass just right. Not that it will see much action tonight. Eddie knows what Deputy Tillman needs, and soon he’ll know it too when he’s on his knees and begging for it.

For now, Eddie lets him think that it's his tight ass that’ll be getting hit tonight.

The walk to the inn is silent and the cold air around them feels heavy, charged. Anticipation crackles under his skin like a summer storm brewing in the sky and he can't remember the last time he felt so alive.

After passing through the entrance, he waits at the bottom of the stairs until he hears the front door close again, and only then does he begin his ascent to his room on the fourth floor, climbing the stairs with the steady sound of steps creaking under two sets of feet.

When he finally reaches the door to his room, his chest is heaving from more than just the physical exertion. Something about the whole night feels so goddamn surreal, and he still half expects to wake up in a ditch after being beaten half to death for flirting with a fucking cop in a part of the country where that could very well get him arrested. Or worse. So much worse.

And yet here he is, inviting danger into his room, into his bed, into his arms.

Something about Deputy Tillman makes him forget everything he's learned about staying out of trouble.

In fact, he's walking right into it, with a devilish smile and a raging hard-on.

Eddie hears the heavy steps behind him coming to a halt as well and he can feel the presence of another body close to his. For just a second, he contemplates calling it off, taking the safe route, just like he promised his uncle to do. But then he remembers the hot, thick girth under his hand and the way Tillman reminds him of a ghost from the past that has come back to haunt him and thinks fuck the safe route.

Slipping the key into the lock and turning it to the right, he opens the door and walks into his room, turning on the light and waiting for trouble to follow him inside.

They still haven't said anything, not since Eddie so boldly proposed the Deputy Sheriff, but he thinks they both know why they're here.

"I take it you're here to play a little, Deputy?" He doesn't even turn around when he asks this, the question being mostly rhetorical anyway. Just him playing with his food, making Tillman admit why he followed Eddie here.

More silence answers him.

"Cat got your tongue? Don't tell me you're getting shy now." Eddie coaxes, finally turning to look at the young man he never expected to meet tonight. He's met with a defiant look on that awfully pretty face, eyebrows drawn together and lips almost pouting at him. Adorable, really.

"Fuck you," the Deputy spits, clearly at a loss for words, inferior in their duel of wits.

Eddie taps his chin mockingly, as if he has to think about it. "Nah," he finally concludes, "I think I'd rather fuck you."

His words don't immediately hit the Deputy, an almost cute look of confusion on his face before his eyes widen, first in shock, then in anger. Too bad the admittedly impressive bulge in his pants gives away just how much Tillman is not against the idea.

"But...you said...in the bar..." he stutters, more indignation in his words than in his voice. Oh, he's precious, Eddie thinks, just the kind of guy he loves to corrupt. He knows he lured the Deputy in with the vague promise of a blow job, and knowing what he packs in those hideous combat pants, Eddie thinks he might still do it. After all, he thinks the man will be much more pliable after a nice orgasm. He doesn't want to hurt his prey, he just wants to play with it, and if his prey enjoys it, that's all the better in Eddie's book.

Taking a step toward the other man, Eddie catches his eyes and raises an eyebrow. "Look, if you can't use your words, Deputy, then I can't use my mouth or my hands on you. Simple as that. Speak up or get out."

Delighted, Eddie notices Tillman's spine straighten at his tone.

Bingo.

It's clear the Deputy needs a firm hand.

With his chin sticking out, Tillman tries again, still stumbling over his words here and there, but doing a much better job than before. "You said I was a mouthful. That my," he pauses before venturing on, "that my cock was a mouthful and that you wanted to play with it."

"I did, didn't I?" Eddie wonders aloud, his eyes deliberately dropping to where the Deputy is still hard in his pants and licking his lips. "And you've been a good boy so far, haven't you, Deputy?"

Tillman nods eagerly, making Eddie grin. He just loves his men easy.

"Good boys get a reward, but I'm not sure you deserve my mouth on you just yet, Deputy. I think you need to show me how good you really can be." Another step forward brings Eddie close enough to the other man to see how his pupils have dilated, swallowing up the beautiful hazel of his eyes. He puts a hand on Tillman's shoulder, fingers spread wide so that his thumb presses into the hollow of his throat, and gently pushes him down to his knees without any real force.

The Deputy sinks to his knees in a fluid and graceful arc that sends the blood rushing to his cock so fast he feels dizzy for a second.

Fuck, who would have thought that a random cop he picked up in a bar in the middle of nowhere North Dakota would turn out to be the sweetest of temptations?

Certainly not Eddie.

"Gorgeous," he praises the man on his knees in front of him, because he is. He looks up at Eddie with wide eyes, dazed, as if he doesn't even know what he's doing here, but likes it anyway. Thumbing his full lower lip until it opens for him, Eddie can't help but want to see how far the man will let him go. When the Deputy sucks Eddie's thumb into his mouth without a second thought, Eddie doesn't even try to stop the moan that falls from his lips. It's obvious that the man kneeling before him is starved for praise, so giving it to him will only make him more eager.

He pulls his thumb out of Tillman's mouth, already missing the warmth, and unbuttons his jeans. He pushes them down just enough to free his cock, the cool air of the room making him shiver. "Now, let's see what you can do, Deputy," he murmurs, anticipation coiling in his belly.

Deputy Tillman doesn't answer with words, but with action, leaning in and enveloping Eddie's hard length in the wet heat of his mouth. It's a clumsy start, but Eddie is more than willing to show him the ropes. If he's honest, it only fuels the flame of lust burning brightly in his stomach to know that it's him the Deputy is on his knees for, sucking his cock when it's clearly something he wouldn't normally do.

It's only fair that Eddie teach him how to be a good boy for him.

Eddie guides the Deputy's movements with a hand tangled in his hair, enjoying the feeling of complete control. He expects Tillman to bitch at him for ruining his hair, but the only reaction he gets when he tangles it between his fingers and pulls is a broken moan. The night might've started with a broken-down van and ended up in a dive bar, but now, it's shaping into something Eddie never could've anticipated.

Tillman may have been clumsy at first, but with Eddie's guiding hand slowing his movements, the Deputy seems to get used to the feel of Eddie's girth in his mouth, growing more confident with every lick of his tongue and bob of his head.

Eddie continues to murmur encouragements into the quiet room, each one swallowed hungrily by the man on his knees before him. As the night stretches on, he finds himself lost in the pleasure, the cold North Dakota winter forgotten in the warmth of Deputy Tillman's mouth.

"God, you're good at this," he praises, voice hoarse and strained. The Deputy looks up at him then, surprise in his eyes, but Eddie recognizes a flicker of something else there, too. Pride. Satisfaction. It makes him smirk.

He allows himself to sink further into the sensation, guiding the Deputy's movements with a firm hand in his hair. When he hits that sweet spot at the back of his throat, Eddie can't help the groan that escapes his lips.

"That's it, Deputy," he encourages, "Just like that."

As Tillman's moans vibrate around him, Eddie can feel the tension building in the pit of his stomach, an all too familiar pressure that signals his impending release. He tries to hold back, to prolong the pleasure, but it's a losing battle. With one last thrust into the warm cavern of the Deputy's mouth, he succumbs to the pleasure. His hips buck and he spurts down the Deputy's throat, a guttural moan tearing from his lips.

Tillman swallows around him, his throat working around Eddie's length, milking him for all he's worth. When he's spent, Eddie pulls back, sliding out of the warmth of the Deputy's mouth with a sigh.

"Well," he pants, "I think that's enough for tonight, Deputy." Leaning back against the wall to catch his breath, he pulls up his pants and buttons them, ignoring the Deputy's whine at his words. It's been a long time since a simple blowjob left him feeling like that. Completely worn out, but deeply satisfied.

When he finally regains his composure, he looks down to see Deputy Tillman still on his knees, looking up at him with wide, dazed eyes. Eddie grins down at him, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

"Good boy," he purrs, watching as the Deputy's eyes flash with a mix of indignation and satisfaction.

Maybe tonight doesn't have to be over right now.

Smiling, Eddie steps over him and heads for the bed, leaving the Deputy on his knees in the middle of the room. He sinks down on the edge of the bed, his legs slightly apart, and takes in the sight before him.

It takes his breath away.

He can't get over how the hard lines of the man's strong body look unexpectedly soft in his vulnerable position, less coiled serpent and more obedient puppy. The Deputy has surpassed all of Eddie's expectations tonight and he wants to reward him. Wants to encourage this unsuspected side of him, maybe even dig a little deeper to find more of it.

Deputy Sheriff Gator Tillman is more than meets the eye and Eddie is itching to know how much more.

“Look at me,” he tells the kneeling man and after a moment’s hesitation, still slightly unfocused eyes find his. Eddie knows that this must have been pretty intense for someone who hasn’t done anything like that before and the Deputy looks like he’s still far away, only slowly coming back to the here and now. His eyes roam over where Eddie’s body is perched on the edge of the bed with a questioning look on his face.

"Very good," Eddie purrs and smiles down at him. "I promised you a reward, and after how well you did on your knees for me, I think you deserve my mouth on you now."

Hazel's eyes widen in pleasant surprise at the promise, but when the Deputy starts to get up, Eddie stops him. "Who said you could get up again, pretty boy?"

The look of confusion on the man's face is adorable, Eddie thinks before he can stop himself. This is neither the time nor the place to get attached. He can't deny that the Deputy has gotten under his skin, but he'll deal with that when he's back on the road and their night is a distant memory. Just another pretty boy haunting his dreams.

"If you want your reward, you have to come here to get it." He waits for his words to sink in, but the confused puppy dog look doesn't leave the Deputy's face, so he clarifies, "On your knees, Deputy."

He can tell the exact moment the words finally sink in when Tillman closes his eyes as his hips twitch eagerly. If he didn't just come his brains out of his dick and into the Deputy's mouth, Eddie would get hard again at the sight. The man keeps surprising him. No matter what Eddie throws at him, he takes to it like a fish to water, so eager to please, so easily led.

With an eager tilt of his pretty mouth, the Deputy crawls over to Eddie, staying on his knees as he moves between Eddie's spread legs, a look of hungry anticipation in his eyes. Eddie can't wait to show him what a real reward feels like.

He cups the man's face with his hand and pulls him closer so he can lean in and whisper in his ear. "Strip for me, pretty boy. Show me how beautiful you are."

For the first time since they started this whole thing, Deputy Tillman is using his mouth for something other than sucking on Eddie's thumb and cock. "Can I stand up for this?" He asks and Eddie hears some of the petulance creep back into his voice even though his words remain perfectly polite. Like a puppy, the man is eager to be good, but he also loves to test Eddie's limits.

"You may. But do it slowly, I want to enjoy the show."

"I thought this was my reward, not yours?"

Ah, there is the fire he was met with earlier, Eddie thinks. Despite what some people might think about him, he likes a challenge, and if the Deputy wants to make Eddie work for it, then he can. It's part of the game, and he enjoys it just as much as he did when the man was on his knees gagging for it.

Eddie leans back leisurely, spreading his legs a little wider, deliberately giving Tillman an unobstructed view of his slender body. He wears a smirk on his face, a confidence born from countless encounters of this kind. "Well, Deputy," he begins, his voice smooth like aged whiskey. The corners of his mouth twitch up into a devilish grin. "It's your reward, of course. But don't think for a second that I won't get my share of enjoyment out of this too." He leans in a little closer, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "Now, show me what you've got."

Rising to his feet, the Deputy does as he's told and with every inch of tantalizing skin he reveals, Eddie's hands twitch with the desire to touch. His skin is smooth, the fine hair on it almost golden, with the exception of his chest hair, which is dark and thick. There are beauty marks of all sizes and shapes all over his body, little beacons that call out to him to put his mouth all over them. His body is athletic, arms and legs defined but not bulky like Eddie has seen a lot of cops. Those muscles come from physical work, not pumping at the gym.

Eddie's favorite part, though, are the Deputy's legs. They seem to go on for miles, the golden hair and thick thighs make his mouth water. He wants them wrapped around his waist as he pounds into the tight heat of what must be a virgin ass, eliciting broken moans and high-pitched whimpers. For now, though, he'll take those thighs wrapped around his head.

"Come here, Deputy," Eddie says, patting the bed next to him. "Let's see how good you can be for me." He can't wait to feel those strong thighs tremble around his head as he shows Deputy Tillman exactly how good his tendencies can feel.

With a slight hesitation, the Deputy crawls onto the bed, his movements a little awkward without his clothes on. But Eddie doesn't mind. It's just another sign of how new this is for him, how far out of his comfort zone he is. And Eddie likes that about him. The way he's willing to put himself out there, to try something new and scary. It's unexpected, but endearing. It makes Eddie want to reward him all the more.

He guides Tillman until he's straddling Eddie's chest, his knees resting on either side of his shoulders. His cock is hard and leaking against his belly and Eddie can't resist reaching up to wrap a hand around it, giving it a light squeeze. Tillman hisses at the touch, his hips jerking forward into Eddie's hand.

"Easy, Deputy," Eddie says, his voice low and soothing. "I told you, this is your reward. Just relax and let me take care of you."

Then he begins to stroke Tillman in earnest, his hand moving up and down his length in a slow, steady rhythm. He watches Tillman's face as he does so, watching as his eyes flutter closed and his lips part with a soft moan. The sight sends a rush of satisfaction through him, knowing he's the one making the Deputy feel this way.

But it's not enough. He wants to taste him as well. He wants to feel the way Tillman tastes on his tongue, the way he squirms and moans as Eddie takes him in his mouth. He wants to hear the way Tillman curses under his breath, the way he begs for more.

So he leans up, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of Tillman's cock before taking him in his mouth. The taste of him, salty and a little sweet, is intoxicating and Eddie moans around him, the vibration causing Tillman to gasp and buck his hips forward. But Eddie holds him steady, one hand on his hip as he continues to suck him off.

The sounds Tillman makes as Eddie works him with his mouth and hands are music to Eddie's ears. He can feel the way Tillman's body tenses under his touch, the way his breath hitches every time Eddie does something he particularly likes. And Eddie uses all of this to his advantage, learning what makes Tillman tick, what makes him moan and gasp and beg for more.

It's not long before Tillman is coming undone under Eddie's touch. His moans grow louder, his hips start to move in time with Eddie's strokes, and his fingers clutch at the sheets beneath them. And when he comes, Eddie swallows him down, his own cock throbbing in response to the sight of Tillman losing himself to pleasure.

But even after Tillman's body goes slack, Eddie doesn't stop. He licks him clean, pressing soft kisses to his sensitive skin until Tillman is squirming and whimpering beneath him. Only then does he pull back, his eyes meeting Tillman's as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"That was your reward, Deputy," he says, his voice low and satisfied. "I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."

The look in Tillman's eyes tells him he did, even if the Deputy can't find the words to say it. And that's more than enough for Eddie. Part of him thinks he'd actually like the Deputy to stay the night, to get comfortable under the blankets with a warm body in his arms for the first time in a long time. It's been a while since he felt connected enough to someone to let them stay close after they both got what they wanted out of their hookup.

Even longer since the last time Eddie considered a next time. And then another. It's a slippery slope, he knows, so he does the only logical thing.

He taps the thighs that are still clutching his shoulders until Tillman falls to the side and lies down beside him. Without looking at the other man, Eddie says, "I'm going to take a shower. I think it's best if you're gone when I get back."

Stripping off his clothes as he makes his way to the tiny bathroom, he continues to look everywhere but at the naked, beautiful man on his bed. They've both had their fun and now it's time to move on. Easy as that, right? Right.

Or not, because just as he opens the door to step out of the room that smells of sweat and sex, a deep, gravelly voice stops him.

"What's your name?"

Shit.

"Why? So you can look me up? Arrest me as soon as the sun comes up on some trumped up charge of sucking your dick?"

Maybe that's unfair, but in his experience you can't trust a cop, and it's on him that he forgot that, even for a second. That's what he gets for thinking with his dick.

"No," Deputy Tillman replies, his voice surprisingly soft. "I just want to know the name of the guy who just blew my fucking mind, is all."

And that's...huh. Eddie doesn't even know what to do with that.

"It's Eddie."

"Just Eddie?"

"That's all you need to know so you can moan it the next time you jack off, sweetheart." He turns around with a smirk as he says it, but he'd be lying if he said the thought of Tillman moaning his name didn't do it for him. If a next time wasn't such an epically bad idea, he'd like to hear it himself as he takes the man apart.

"Maybe I will," the Deputy replies, and Eddie wants to believe him. "Next time you should call me Gator, ya know? Only fair."

Next time?

"There won't be a next time, Deputy. This was a one-time thing."

And damn it, he shouldn't have turned around, because the look in Gator's-no, Tillman's-eyes is hurt.

It's not that Eddie enjoys hurting the guy, but it's better this way. Safer.

"Goodbye, Gator." He says as he steps into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

The hot shower feels good, relieving some of the tension that had crept into his shoulders and neck after their conversation. He loses himself in the task of getting clean, scrubbing away the remnants of the night, and when he steps back out into the empty bedroom, he almost feels like himself again. The last few hours hadn't been how he expected to spend his first night in this shithole of a town, but he can't say he regrets a single thing.

As he settles into the soft mattress, he can't help but think that despite all the trouble, Dickinson, North Dakota might not be so bad after all.

Happy very belated birthday @baronsamediswife 💜💜💜Thank you for indulging me and watching Fargo and Marmalade with me and letting me ramble about how pretty Joe Keery is.

[glorismorningstar]

PARENTING

Pairing: Vox x fem!angel!reader

Summary: Now that little Pixel is born, you and Vox raise her thanks to a deal with Heaven and lots of chaos.

A/N: this is part two of PREGNANT, thank you sm for the request anon! Idk if it's the same one that asked for the first part but if it is I hope you like it <3

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VOX tends to get home late, so you usually spend the day with Pixel until he comes back

At the end of his work day, he greets his daughter like she's the most precious thing in the world

Because she is

And because she came out of the second most precious thing in the world

You see him with Pixel in his lap, her little screen staring at his bigger one and babbling something unintelligible

It almost makes you cry tears of joy

Vox normally struggles to be soft around others

Well, not exactly struggles as chooses not to, because he has a reputation to maintain

But when it comes to his family he'll do anything and everything to protect them

You notice that he seems much more himself around you and Pixel

Not that you're complaining, of course

You love this vulnerable side of him more than the eccentric, manipulative businessman he purports to be

Although if you mention it to him, he'd likely deny it

Still hellbent on keeping you away from Valentino

As a friend he's great, sure, but his filthy habits near his newborn daughter and the mother of the aforementioned daughter do not sit right with him

You're wary of keeping Velvette on babysitting duty, although Vox convinces you to try it once

Not the worst babysitting shift in the history of the world, which surprised you greatly

After you gave birth, Vox moved you and Pixel to another house to separate his family from his work life

He deems it to be safer

And he would be completely correct

That's why when Alastor returns, he flips out

He's afraid of losing you and his little Pixie to that smiling freak

And if he loses everything he's worked for, how will he support his family?

Honestly, you have no qualms about his borderline homoerotic obsession with Alastor

Of all the flaws he has, that might not be number one

And he could do much worse, in your opinion

As long as he doesn't act on it, you're completely fine with it

It's true that you're an angel and he's a demon, a seraphim and an overlord no less

It makes you wonder why Sera would agree to let you keep the child and spend your maternity leave wherever you wish

Pixel is technically a hellborn, but she's the child of a blessed and a damned soul

You don't know how that would work

When she comes of age, she'll have her court case to decide her fate, since as a newborn child she's still of indeterminate morality

As hard as it would be, Vox would want her to live a blessed life

Therefore he lets you raise her to be a good person

You teach the little girl kindness, empathy, generosity and care

The sight is bittersweet for Vox

On the one hand, he's proud of seeing his own blood be a better person than he is

On the other hand, he'd miss Pixie being home at the end of every day and clinging to his leg like a vice

"My sweet girl. Thank God you're just a baby. Dad doesn't want to give you away, but he knows it's the right choice."

You hear him talk to her like that one night, and tears spill from your eyes as you overhear the conversation

It breaks your heart to see him suffer like this

To give up his own child in this way, you know full well that you wouldn't be able to if the roles were reversed

"Da-da..."

You freeze in place when a little babbling voice reaches your ears, while Vox grins so hard and his eyes glisten with tears for a brief moment

"That's right, sweetie... dad's here. Dad's here."

You sniffle softly and walk over to sit beside him, resting your head on his shoulder and stroking the top of Pixie's screen

"I can't believe it. Time flew by so fast."

"I know... suddenly I'm seeing her go off to school."

You giggle at that, kissing Vox on the cheek and running your thumb over the edge of his screen with a little sniffle

"Are you sure you're okay with me taking her to Heaven?"

Vox sighs, expression dropping from the joy of the moment as he pauses to word his reply properly

"Yeah. It's not easy, but it's what she deserves. It's the life I want her to have."

You wrap your arms around his neck when he says so, affectionately caressing the back of his screen

"I'm really sorry. I know I'd be flipping out if I were in your place."

"Oh, believe me, I am. I'm just doing a stunningly good job at covering it up."

You chuckle softly, nuzzling your nose on his screen

He laughs along with you and plants a sweet kiss on your lips, then holds both you and Pixie close to his chest

Soon Pixel grows into a pre-teen

She has already sprouted her wings and goes to school

Vox suggests that you let her go on her own, as she can fly and he has cameras everywhere

And he'd definitely maul to death anyone who tries to mess with his daughter

But you're still extremely on edge, insisting that even if he could know when she's in danger, there's no way either of you would get there in time to save her

So you drop her off and pick her up by flight every day

She doesn't like it very much, but somehow understands it's for her own good

It isn't until she's 14 that she finds out about the Radio Demon

She first overhears it while passing by Valentino's tower when she drops by the Headquarters one day and decides to ask Vox about it

"Dad?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Who's Alastor?"

Vox is visibly aggravated

Electricity zaps across his antennae and racks his entire body as he struggles not to dig his clawed fingers in the table

"Ha, ha... where did you learn that name, Pixie?"

Pixel worries for his reaction, flinching back as she stutters out a soft, "I- I- I-"

"Lady Archangel Pixel of Pride and Kindness, tell me who told you about that freak right now!"

"I- I heard Uncle Val saying that name, and- and that he hears he's back...!"

Vox is seconds away from electrocuting the entire Pentagram

So today he's going to deal with explaining to his teenage daughter about some psychopath he used to know and is learning that he's back from his child

"Oh, no, because God forbid Valentino shut his mouth for once in his fucking life!"

He slams his fist on the table and buries his screen in his hands, resting his elbows on the table and attempting to take a few deep breaths

"Dad...?"

He looks up and sees his daughter's big eyes staring at him with concern

He must have scared her with his outburst

Vox frowns and gathers her in his arms, sighing as he plants a kiss on the top of her screen

"I'm sorry, Pixie, I'm sorry. Alastor used to be my partner."

Pixel looks to the side and back at him, blinking multiple times

This conversation just took quite the turn

"I'll probably regret this, but... partner as in...?"

"Business partner! Jesus Christ, Pixel!"

The young girl sighs in relief

Honestly, he couldn't blame her for jumping to that conclusion

Vox tells her about his partnership with Alastor, everything about what he's really like and what he could do to hurt them now

He knows she's mature enough to understand

"What I want you to do now is call your mother and ask her to come pick you up. Now."

"But-"

"Now, Pixel."

Pixel hesitates, eyes flickering around with worry as she finally stared up at Vox

"Do you trust me?"

"...yes. Yes, I trust you."

"Then do as I say. Please."

She can tell something's off, her father has never acted this way before

The girl throws her arms around him, burying her face in his chest

Vox wipes the tears from her eyes and gives her a reassuring smile, holding her screen in his hands

"I love you, okay?"

"I love you, too, dad..."

He presses another kiss to her forehead and squeezes her tight

He's so terrified of letting her go, but he knows that he has to, for her own good

"Go over to aunt Velvette's and ask her to call your mother. Tell her to meet me here as soon as she can and we'll come get you."

Pixel is extremely apprehensive, but obliges either way

As she trots off to Velvette's tower, Vox gets footage of the Hazbin Hotel from Valentino

Meanwhile, you receive Velvette's call and fly over to the Headquarters as fast as possible

Vox clings to you and squeezes you tight, cupping your cheeks in his hands and looking into your eyes

"Ask for an advance on the court date."

You swear you feel your soul leave your body when he says those words

You've been dreading this for so many years

"Vox, this- this can't be the only solution."

"She's in limbo, Y/N, and right now the good in her has the edge. Request sanctuary and ask Sera to move the date. Please."

With a heavy heart, you agree

He's right, if Alastor really is back, you need to get Pixel to safety

You hug Vox close, tucking your face in the crook of his neck and letting out a sob

You don't know if you're going to see him ever again, and that terrifies both of you to your very cores

"Don't cry, my love, don't cry."

"I love you, Vox."

"I know. I love you, too."

You share a last passionate kiss before departing, tears brimming both yours and his eyes as Velvette accompanies Pixel to say her goodbyes

Vox's farewell to his child is heartbreaking

He reassures her that he loves her and it's for her own good, even if he knows that deep down she'd never forgive him

You give Vox a last kiss before opening the portal to Heaven, letting the dimensions swallow up both of you, never to see Hell for years on end

[toomanythoughts4myhead]

One of a kind

Summary: You are a rich Capitol-born, he is a boy from the districts that was forced into a fortuen. Two different world seem to colide and find solice in one another. A unique bond is formed, a breath of fresh air for both, changing your worlds. You enjoy the brightness he shines on your life.

Warnings: None (he has gone through enough), mentions of past mistreatment (nothing graphic to be fair), overdose of longing and yearning from both parties.

AN: This was so much fun to write and i will be writting more for him, he is my pookie wookie. Love him and hope this reaches all the Sejanus stans, he deserved so much more love, i just wann smooch him and keep him in my pocket.

Word count: 2.3k

Sejanus Plinth who even after all these years of being forced to endure the company of rich snobby students and their even more classist and stuck-up parents, still hasn’t been able to or even remotely wished to befriend or in any way connect with any of these heartless animals.

Capitol!reader who is among said rich old money children. Despite everything you have grown to be kind thing, considerate and sheltered from the world’s worst issues by your parents. Ever since Sejanus got transferred to the Academy you have wanted to talk with him. The rich clique you went out with (mostly your parents ties or leeches looking for connections) discouraged any sort of show of empathy for the district boy, saying that breathing the same air as him was below any self-respecting Capitol citizen.

Capitol!reader who is not as stupid as other people make her out to be, with a surprisingly deep rooted morals, born from nurturing of empathy shown from the avoxes taking care of the penthouse you grew up in. As any other child of busy businessman, you had been handed off to the nearest nanny or avox to handle as your parents carried on with their financial legacy. The avoxes couldn’t speak but they could write and after you had managed to learn to write from a very young age, you gave been communicating with them. Your parents would have been worried to find out all the time spent playing or writing to the supposed capitol traitors if they had noticed sooner, alas they remembered they had a child when it was time for you to join the Academy and ever since then you have been forced into a social group of spoiled delinquents. You often missed the quiet and peace you had before.

Capitol!reader who manages to escape from the hold of said clique for the lunch break and finally after almost 4 months goes and sits by Sejanus.

Sejanus Plinth who gets jump scared as he sees one of the riches students in the Academy saunter over with a small smile to sit on the seat opposite of him. He had been too focused in his own head, mulling over how all the people surrounding him get the best food there is and even throw away a big chunk of it while people in the districts were dying of hunger, but the light click-clacking of heels on the marble floor snaps him out of his trance.

Sejanus Plinth who is ready to take whatever insult you decide to throw at him. It wasn’t uncommon for other students to go from passive aggressive remarks to verbal pushing and shoving, he never reacted to it. Your small smile and clam friendly eyes, the effortless way you moved with grace and no fake bravado threw him off a little. He was aware that good or semi-sensible existed in the Capitol, they usually just didn’t go near him, scared to taint their reputation. But here you were sitting with your legs crossed and with a warm smile, asking how he found the Capitol.

No demeaning tone or hidden message, no games or mockery, no looking down or judgement.

Just a simple polite question, he hadn’t had the privilege to hear that in a long while.

Sejanus Plinth who finds himself drawn to you ever since that encounter. You had stayed with him and listened as he went on and told you about all his observations on the Capitol, perhaps not all, just the ones he knew were appropriate to say to someone he barely knew. Despite that he found his voice grow louder and surer, his statements held more meaning and more personal influence.

Capitol!reader who listens completely enthralled in whatever he is speaking. No one had shared an honest opinion on the Capitol with her, all her family, friends and overall surrounding circle were too busy sucking up to the injustice that brought them more money. The closest is some fleeting notes from some avoxes as she had grown more of age, but they couldn’t share too much, they were on a thin line as it is. And here was Sejanus speaking truths she had only pondered in her head when alone.

It felt refreshing, no bravado or overcomplicated explanation, no bending of morality to further make his life better. He felt like what she had been looking for, the fresh air she hadn’t been allowed to have.

And in this moment, it seemed that they had both found what they need. A calm and sincere connection based on truths and freedom, shared ideals. Something calm and grounded, far from the tacky taste of the Capitol.

Capitol!reader who starts to feel a tingly feel anytime she sees Sejanus, its not love, she thinks, she wasn’t particularly sure, but she was so happy to talk with someone who saw her for her and not her parents bank accounts. With every week she managed to find newer and newer excusses to leave her friend group, not even caring if they believed her. She would spring the random excuse and almost dash to go find Sejanus who somehow was always near. Shed feel her smile grow and with time he returned it.

Sejanus Plinth who couldn’t believe that someone from the Capitol would spend willingly time with him, and even go as far as to ditch her friends for him. You cleared up for him how things worked in your controlled life and how most things weren’t really your choice.

The bell of the Academy rings and all students start packing their belongings, ready to put the end to another tiring day. The mass of red uniforms moves and parts like a thunderous sea and yet amidst the chaos he spots you almost immediately. Maybe it’s the serene calmness and comfort your presence brins along as you walk with a bag swung over your shoulder and uniform just barely out of place. Or that’s jus the effect you have on him.

You seem to also spot him from your position between your circle, your face immediately shifts from expressionless and deep in thought to happy despite the obvious tiredness. You slow your walking and your friends don’t notice as they continue to walk until they eventually exit and are gone from your sight. You and Sejanus meet in the middle, both walking over hastily to the other. There is little room between you, your shoulders almost press ad you head in a slow step for the exit. Sejanus fixes your collar as you walk, putting the material back to its place, never daring to look up in fear of making things too obvious.

“How was your day? Did your history test go well? You were so worried about it.” – he asks calmly with a quiet voice as he returns to his upright position still not looking at you, despite how sweaty his hands had become from the nerves.

You feel the heat radiating off of him as you walk, as his fingers linger jus ta second too long as he touched up your uniform, but don’t say anything. You simply wanted to bask in the warm feeling it brough to you. There weren’t any butterflies or nerves jittering in your stomach, but it seemed that flowers had taken root and were blooming inside your chest, making your body feel warm and at peace, excited to be near him.

“As well as it gets with professor Plextor, I swear the man truly wants to fail us. He hates children, not sure how he got the job or why.” – you reply and rub your tired eyes, feeling the hours of stressing and studying over the week catch up with you.

Sejanus notices, he notices everything about you. He lets out a small hum, an amused breath through his nose that made it crinkle up a bit. He was so pretty.

“I always knew you had it in you.”

You continue to walk in comfortable silence, soaking up the shared feeling of content that seemed to follow your pair. Sadly, everything is measured and the entrance is reached. It had started raining on top of everything and you didn’t have and umbrella, God knows it wouldn’t fit in your overpacked bag.

You both come to a halt trying to figure out what to do. You can spot the outline of the private car that drives and picks you up from school, sitting in the parking of the school amongst other expensive vehicles. Sure, with the downpour you will get soaked even from the brief ten to fifteen minutes it will take you to reach it, but you will go home and shower before you manage to get sick.

A rustling of clothes snaps your attention back to Sejanus. His academy jacket was off leaving him in the white shirt branded with the Academy initials, it hugged his broad torso and shoulder well and tempted you to feel the soft skin and muscle under.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping us as dry as I can manage. Come closer.” – Sejanus whispers and uses the jacket as a makeshift umbrella over the both of you. With his arms raised you can clearly see how the shirt was straining with his ribcage and shoulders, smell the expensive cologne he had sported that day, something smokey and foresty, it fit him well and made your head spin just a bit.

“You are ridiculous”

You say with a smile, voice barely above a whisper, too scared to break the bubble of your own little world. Sejanus throws you a smile with that boyish charm he often doesn’t show and you both take off. Shoes splash and splat against the wet stairs and later pavement. You’ve never ran through the rain, often just waiting for an avox to come and escort you with an umbrella.

Now you were laughing like an idiot alongside Sejanus, feeling light on your feat and at peace with the world. You had never heard him laugh, not like this. With full voice and honest happiness, nothing compared to the stifled huffs of laughter you had grown to long to hear. This was your new favorite thing.

Eventually you do reach the car and both of you come to halt Infront of it, breathless from laughing and breathing in the cold air as you ran here. You are just looking at each other, grinning like idiots. His curls were stuck to his fore head, damp but not wet, his cheeks were stretched by a big smile and his eyes shone so sincerely you would believe they were jewels.

A honk from the car and the opening of the passenger side for you startles you both. You whip around to look at the avox in the front seat who was urging you on to hop in so you wouldn’t be late for the annual family gathering. As you turn back you almost hit your head on his shoulder and you almost wish you had.

He is still standing with his arms raised protecting you from the rain and you smile. You place your hand on his shoulder and lower it down to his collarbone, feeling the slight stiffness that follows in its wake. The warmth emitting from him almost makes you dip your hand under the crevice of his shirt and feel the soft skin underneath, almost. Instead, you opt to look at him and the wat his gaze his fixated on you like you are the center of his universe, like the stars and the planets go round for you.

“Thank you, Sejanus, thank you for keeping me from the rain. Take acre and don’t get sick, would be hell to go here without you.”

You reluctantly take your hand off of him, already missing how nicely it fit against him and hop into the back seat of the car. His eyes follow you and his face has become unreadable and deep in thought as you had seen many times. You wonder if you have over stepped a line, maybe your own delusions had seeped too far in reality this time. His arms drop once you are sitting inside, both waiting for the automatic door to close. The rain falls on him in all its might and gets him soaking. His hair is stuck to his face and the shirt seems to uncomfortably cling to his frame, even if it gives you a better view of his torso you are busy worrying for his health.

He never lets his gaze drop now and simply extends his hand out for you. You look at the the broad palm and long fingers for a moment before you wrap your own around it giving it a squeeze.

“Anything for you.”

He squeezes your hand and barely visible warmth creep on his face, but you blame it on the cold. He lets go of you as the door finally kicks back into action and closes. Behind the tinted window you see him and smile, waving even if your appearance is obscured. You see him wave at you even as the car goes by him and heads for your house. You sit back down on the seat normally after you are done trying to spot him from the back window.

Your hand feels warm, the ghost of his touch still living on even after the moment, forever branded in your mind. A huge grin is plastered on your face and your cheeks have grown warm and red. Your heart is beating fast and you feel like you are glowing.

This was what love feels like.

(Being friends with the avoxes pays off, they are great wingmen. You try to avoid the smile and funny looks the driver sends you.)

[sunset-villa1925]

Hello everyone!

Just to remind you all old or new followers that the story is STILL being developed, since I JUST started it earlier this year, it will take time for me to flesh out the story, and how I want it to be before I can start the comic, and lots of changes may happen, the fact that I'm still in college,

so please be patient and I hope some of you will be willing to stick with me and possibly help me through this Journey.

Introduction

Sunset Villa is a story that follows a man, named Sullian Maltami as he lived his mundane life in the City of New York as a typist in an office. His whole mundane life that he was cogged into suddenly changed, when a newcomer came into the City, and it changed for the good and the worst.

Genre

Romance

Thriller

Drama

Slice of life

(a bit of) Action

Theme & Setting

The story is taken place in New York City 1925, it is mostly centred in Art Decor, Jazz and Cocktail parties, the working classes, Immigrants, and the underground world of Gangsters, Gangs, Hitmen, and the Mafia.

And this year is the year of multiple changes happening to America.

Colors

The world is perceived by Sullian, (HE IS NOT COLOR BLIND) this is just some sort of Visual Storytelling

Jobs 👨‍🔧

(the works mentioned here are works that the Characters that are in the story have)

Legal

Office Worker

Store Owner

Landlady

Police Officer

Businessman or woman

Illegal

Pickpocketer

Bootlegger

Hitman

Gangsters

Mafia Bosses

Locations

(please note that these locations are fictional)

Central City 🌆

Arlon's Market (Grocery Store)

Brookstone Corp. (Office Building)

Stewen Brown (Café)

Moonlit Cove (Fishing Dock)

(More to be added....)

Barker County 🏡

Sunset Villa (Apartment)

Looney Gooney (Speakeasy)

Golden Key Bookstore (Small)

(More to be added...)

Other

Streets

Alleyways

Construction Sites

Forms of Transportations

On Foot

Bikes

Automobiles

Public Buses

Railroad Trains

(More to be added)

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love Will Remember {One Shot}

Title: Love Will Remember {One-Shot}

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Words: 13.5k

Warning: High Angst, Heartbreak, Fluff, PLENTY OF WORDS, Mild NSFW References, Mentions of Pregnancy, FWB Gone Wrong, PLOT HEAVY, Time Jump

Summary: You and Lewis had an agreement, nothing but sex. It was an easy agreement to adhere to but somewhere along the line things changed as did your feelings. What now?

Note: Here we are again with over 7k words.🥴 This started one way and then took an interesting turn toward the middle. I hope you enjoy this. Also, I have nothing against Chelsea.🤣

Note II: I promise to do better by Tyrone Mings in a separate fic.🤞🏽 He needs his own fic.

As always, thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~

"I knew this wasn’t a good idea even before I touched you. From the second I looked into your eyes I saw it," he dejectedly said.

"Saw what?"

"How innocent you were. So fucking innocent," he spat as if the words burned his tongue.

"We shouldn't have ever done this. I shouldn't have done this," he added.

Your heart sank which made your bottom lip tremble. What did you say to that? What could you say? The silence in the room stretched on and on. You wanted to say sorry but sorry didn't feel right. Who apologized for telling someone they loved them? Who apologized for such a pure and selfless emotion?

The longer the silence stretched with his back still to you, the more you felt pathetic and stupid. You regretted telling him. You weren't supposed to fall for him. It made no logical sense why you would in the beginning so simple fucking seemed like an easy deal.

Then you got to know him. He lowered his walls inch by inch, allowing you to see more and more of himself. You saw the loyal and loving son he was, the supportive and helpful sibling, the kind and gentle uncle, the intelligent and diligent businessman, and the sweet, passionate, and attentive lover. With all of that, it had practically happened without you knowing until it was too late.

Then the words slipped from you at probably one of the worst times when Lewis was balls deep inside you, giving you the "fall in love with me" long and deep strokes. He heard them the moment you said them, and it was evident because his entire body tensed. You'd came but you were almost sure he hadn't. Seconds later, he'd pulled out and looked at you with horror. 

"You said..."

"I know," you replied, not needing him to finish his sentence.

"Jesus," he pushed out just under his breath, but you heard it in the stark silent room.

"Look I’m sorry I couldn't control my feelings and remain cold and unfeeling like you."

Lewis spun around to face you so fast it was a wonder he didn’t get whiplash.

"Don’t. Don’t do that. It’s unfair."

You knew it but didn’t care. You were frustrated now.

"I didn’t plan this. Hell, I sure as fuck didn’t expect it and I definitely didn’t mean to tell you. I just...I--."

You didn’t know what else to say and the moment your eyes met his you could read him clear as a book. He didn't feel the same. It wasn’t something shocking. You hadn't ever expected him to feel what you did. In the sea of women he’d been with, you were so different.

Whereas they were drop-dead gorgeous and bodacious with lines of men chasing them and perfectly beaten faces at all hours of the day and a wardrobe to rival the queens of the monarchs you’d never fit that bill. You were labeled a tomboy, considered to be one of the guys because of your interest in sports, not anti-makeup but definitely inexperienced compared to your other friends. Hell, you were inexperienced in a lot of things.

You never felt like you could hold men captivated. It wasn’t until Lewis had you seen a flicker of that. He was right. You were innocent. He was the 2nd man you’d slept with in your life and even he’d had to teach you several things about pleasure. It was embarrassing in the beginning, and you were sure after a few months he’d tire of you, but 3 months passed then 6 then 9, and before you knew it a year had ticked by, and he was still steadily seeing you. You were confused, but who were you to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Lewis sighed again, a deep, heavy, woeful sigh and you knew what he was going to say.

"We can't...I can't--. "

Just as you were going to open your mouth to stop him, his phone rang. It was an interruption you were thankful for.  You didn’t think you could stomach the words.

"Hang on," Lewis said standing in his nakedness. He picked up the phone and you took a moment to look over his body.

It would be the last time you would see it. You didn’t think you were living some fairytale or a modern version of Pretty Woman, sans the sex worker trope. You knew not to expect happily ever afters. Those were things of fiction. This was the end of your time together. He was just about to say the words.

The tattoos that decorated his back held you mesmerized. You could still feel the muscles hidden under that beautiful golden bronzed flesh. The very muscles that spoke of how much power truly resided within him. Your fingertips remembered how they danced under them. It was etched to memory by now and you knew it would be hell to forget it.

When Lewis walked to the bathroom, you snapped back to the here and now. You sat there for a few moments, grabbed a pillow, and cried into it hoping it muffled any sound you might make. You didn’t want him to see this. Not only was it embarrassing but for some reason you felt shame. You’d never thought that when you agreed to no strings attached fun with Lewis that you’d feel shame about it. Now that shame burned within you.

After allowing yourself a minute or two to cry you dried your cheeks and got up to get dressed. You’d read the room and the writings on the wall, and you knew what you had to do. You had to walk away first. Seeing his back as it got further and further away would break you. At least this way, you could retain some of your dignity.

In under 3 minutes you’d gotten dressed and gathered your things. Lewis was still in the bathroom, and you took the opening. Hesitating at the door your tears returned.

"Get a grip, Y/N."

You walked over to the notepad beside the bed and scribbled what was under the hurt you were feeling.

Lewis,

Grateful for the blessings, memories, and time we spent together, and thankful for the lesson. I’ll keep your secrets and in that you can trust. I wish you endless success and luck.

-Y/N

With that, you walked out of the suite with your head held high and back straight as your tears streamed down your face.

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Two and ½ Years Later-

-Lewis-

"There she goes everyone. In the last 2 years, her skill have really gone into overdrive. She went from 18th in the league to 1st. Her stats rival some of the best in the sport. Here she goes setting up the goal. Her signature move is to pass it to the left while her team guards and blocks before McMullen will head butt it over for her to cut through the other team bringing it right up to the face of the goalie before she effortlessly beams it in."

"She has perfected this move and does not miss. If Chelsea has done their homework, hopefully, they have figured out a way to stop her."

"They would be the first. Somehow Y/N has made this move undefendable over the last 2 years. It really shows her grind to become this force of nature. Her teammates always say she’s first in training and the last to leave. She lives, eats, and breathes the sport and that dedication shows."

"Oh, oh here she goes! The pass! The defense by Arsenal here is incredible. This is one of their strong areas. No one is getting by which sets Y/N up to part the team on the left and here she goes!”

The stadium was so loud it was impossible to make out any understandable speech.

"She is so good at intimidation, and we see it here. There's the ball she really likes to bounce it off her chest then knees and--.”

The referee blew his whistle, stopping play because of an offense by a Chelsea player. Then it happened out of nowhere.

"Ooooooh!”

The stadium echoed the sound then it all went silent. Now even a referee's yellow card could be heard dropping to the grass.

He leaped to his feet from his location in the box seats he'd bought years ago to ensure he always had a spot to watch your home games when he was home. He couldn’t see you through the huddle most of your teammates had around you while a few others brawled with the other team.

Even he knows that was a foul move. The game wasn’t even in play. It was clearly a move to take you out of the game. Everything in him wanted to run from his box down to the field but he remained there. His legs planted unable to move them. He had no right. It had been almost 3 years since you truly interacted rather than seeing each other across a room or in the audience of an award ceremony. 3 years since that night.

Long minutes passed as everyone tried to get some control over the field. Team owners tried to wrangle brawling players and medics rushed the field pushing through the huddle of your team, even some media managed to get on the field to snap pictures and capture up-close footage. It was like hell had broken loose.

With every minute that passed, he felt even more on edge. Then the ref blew his whistle and made his call.

"Serious Foul Play, number 76, Brewer. Expulsion. 2 free kicks Arsenal"

The stadium echoed with claps, cheers, and admonishment for the call. It was a good call. He watched the offender exit the field talking a lot of shit but focused on you. You were lying on your back with your head angled backward and a grimace on your face.

"Fuck! Is she okay?"

"I can't tell," Miles replied.

"Shit."

After another minute or two, you got hoisted onto the board and carried off the field. That only made him worry more. Unable to stay where he was any longer, he left the box and made his way toward the team areas. You’d had scares before in your games, but this had to be the worst one in the nearly three years he’d been watching by far.

When he got close, he watched one of your teammates take the second free kick, making nothing but net. Chelsea’s only hope was to bring it into extra time and even that would take impeccable athleticism for the remaining 8 minutes. He doubted they had it.

The clock winded down 4 minutes and still no goal had been scored by Chelsea. That was when he caught the eye of the assistant coach, a good friend of his. He waved him over and watched as he approached.

"How you doing Lewis. We didn't know you were in the house tonight."

"I'm always here, you know that. How is she?"

He sighed then shook his head.

"A few bruised ribs, mild to moderate left hamstring strain, left shoulder popped out we had to reset it and she’s complaining her chest hurts. Could be muscle strain, or tenderness or more serious pretaining to her heart.”

"Fuck!”

"Yeah. She’s playing tough but she’s gotta be in a lot of pain."

"That player should never play again!"

"Yeah. Measures will be taken. Do you want to see her? I'm sure she'd like to see you. All the times you've been here asking about her."

"No. I...I don't think that's a good idea. Like always don't tell her I was here."

He nodded then shook his hand.

"Hang out in the associate box instead of going all the way back up."

He took the offer and called his team down. Against all the odds Chelsea managed to tie the game leaving 2 minutes of gameplay for possible extra time.

"Wild. It's clear their goal was to get Y/N out of the game. They knew she was the key."

It was more than obvious, and it pissed him off more. Suddenly a whistle blew, and he watched you slow jog onto the field. Half the stadium was cheering and the others murmuring amongst each other trying to understand what was happening. He was one of the latter.

"Isn't she hurt."

"She is. What is she doing?"

He zeroed in on your face and saw you grimace. You were definitely hurt. The list of injuries he’d just been told was serious and could be made worse with you aggravating them. You huddled with your team, and he noticed the Chelsea players looking at each other clearly panicking. You broke the huddle with a combined warrior's war cry that had become a ritual and signature of your team.

You broke out in formation, and he watched as play began again. The opponents made no attempt to hide their intention--keeping you held down. They tried everything they could to intercept the balls while heavily guarding you, but the ball never touched your feet. Instead, you took all the heat of them over guarding you, testing your strength and injuries while your team scored 2 goals in one minute.

"It’s a wrap,” Miles said while fanning off toward the field.

"Pack it up!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the commentary of Miles and Daniel together. While Chelsea had a plan, you came with your own plan, and they played right into it. Within the 15 second reprieve, he saw the pain on your face. You bent over and rested your hands on your knees and dipped your head down. He hated this.

The whistle sounded again, and play resumed. He watched the formation change on your team and the other team went back to equal guard leaving only 2 players on you. He snorted because he knew what was going to happen.

"Big mistake!”

You stood there inactive, which made the players on you watch you in confusion. They looked around unsure what to do as play continued around them. He did a quick glance at the clock noting there was under 40 seconds of play time. Your team made a run for the goal which made the players on you scramble to try to stop the goal by any means. That left you wide open. In a misdirection move the ball flew to you and you took off from midfield at top speed.

He watched your ball control in awe. By the time the other team realized their error it was too late. You were in the zone. You faked to the left breaking one of your opponents, making them slip into what must have been a painful split. You faked right and your second opponent dived for you missing completely.

You booked it to the goal as the rest of their team chased after you. When you were about 10 feet from the goal you kicked it to the right, then your teammate kneed it up and front kicked it back to you.

Everyone in the stadium was on their feet and it looked like it all moved in slow motion. You high jumped up getting major air then instead of your signature move you stuck your leg out and went for a flying bicycle side-kick. Looking tighter than the Nike check logo. Once your foot made contact he knew you had it and sure enough, the ball zipped through the air like a bullet and collided into the net signaling the end of the game and Arsenal's win clinching yet another title.

The stadium went absolutely wild. You remained laid on the field as your teammates jumped on you, cheering and celebrating another victory.

"She's a beast!"

They hoisted you up and put you on top as they passed you in the air. Though he could tell you were in pain you were all smiles. He couldn't help but smile too. He’d always loved your smile. It was the reason he always tried to make you happy just to see you smile. His heart thudded painfully and as strong as it ever had when he watched or thought of you. This had been going on for 3 years now and he was still hopelessly and painfully in love with you.

The field filled with press, the rest of the team, managers, and other personnel, and they all were in celebration mode. Your teammates let you down in front of a tall man who was smiling just as widely. He wrapped his arms around you and rested them just at your hip. It was an intimate move and just like that his hackles were up.

When he bent to your ear he watched your interaction while he wondered who he was and what he was to you. Over the years while you’d become a sensation and top player for Arsenal, you'd been able to keep your privacy and stay away from the paps. There was little to no info on you out there which meant he had no idea if there was someone in your life.

The thought that there was, made him clench his jaws though he probably had no right to the reaction. Not after he’d let you walk out and away from him nearly 3 years ago.

"Let's go."

Without waiting any longer, he turned, and a few people started pointing at him and shouting his name. Soon everyone near him was waving and cheering and calling to him. He smiled and waved back as he tried to slip out before you saw him. He shouldn’t have ever come no matter how much he missed you, no matter how much he craved having you near, and no matter how much he regretted what happened those years ago. Nothing had changed. He wasn’t any good for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

Even now as you were sitting in your gown for the celebratory dinner hopped up on some superior pain medication you could have sworn you saw Lewis. Or the back of his hooded head. Was it really him? You didn’t know. It could have been anyone similar to his height and build wearing a hood. While your ears had picked up some murmurs in the crowd shouting his name, it could have been any Lewis.

You sighed and closed your eyes. You were being ridiculous right now. It had been almost 3 years and you were still thinking about him and looking for his face in the crowd and him in every man you encountered.

“How pathetic, Y/N. How much more do you want to suffer? Haven’t these years been enough?”

Just then, a pang of pain rippled through you that took your breath away. You threw your head back and held your breath as you tried to push through it. Perhaps the quick look-over you’d gotten during the ending part of the match wasn’t enough. Everyone had insisted that you be admitted but you knew you had to make an appearance at this dinner.

“I’ll do it after,” you groaned out to yourself.

“Y/N.”

You straightened and put on a brave face. “Ready. Let’s go.”

You stood on shaky legs and shook off the lingering pain while pleading with your body to give you a few more hours. Your job didn’t end after a win. The show must go on.

Thirty minutes later you were walking the gold carpet with the rest of your teammates smiling and being interviewed by reporters.

“Y/N!”

You approached a tall woman with gorgeous curly 4B hair that had subtle auburn streaks. The look complimented her nutmeg tone and striking features.

“Hi.”

“Hi to you. First of all, I stan you so hard! Today’s game was incredible. You were incredible. How are you? Should you be here tonight?”

You giggled. “Thank you. I uh—I appreciate you saying that. It was truly a team effort today and I’m just happy we could bring it home.”

“Can we talk about that hit?”

You shuddered remembering it and the immediate shock and pain you felt. “Uh, sure.”

“Did you see it coming?”

“No. I was focused on the goal and the plan.”

“Do you feel it was deliberate? A lot of fans and spectators are saying she had a plan to take you out of the game so it could make it easier for them to win.”

You’d heard the rumbles too. You’d had problems with Cadence Brewer for years. She’d tried taunting you for your entire career and when you’d surpassed her and any rankings she could have ever held the taunting became worse. You didn’t know what you’d done to her, but it was clear she didn’t want to be friends or even sportsman like.

“Um, I don’t know. I—I try not to go down those thought pathways. I go out there, play the sport I love with one goal in mind, to win. I really don’t focus on anyone else or their feelings toward me.”

“Well said and your skill sure speaks for itself. Are you doing okay tonight?”

“I’m doing all right, feeling not my best, sore but I’m dealing.”

“You look spectacular. Give us a spin.”

You did but it was a rather slow one. Anything more you would give away just how not your best you were feeling.

“Wow. You clean up well.”

You laughed then fanned her off.

“Thank you.”

You heard your name across the way and found your team waving you over.

“Looks like I’m needed. Thank you.”

You walked over to your team and posed for some pictures. It took another fifteen or so minutes before you made it inside and when you did, your hamstring was throbbing uncontrollably.

“If it isn’t the MVP of the night.”

You looked beside you and found Tyrone’s smiling face. You returned his smile the best you could and looked over him. He always did clean up nicely. His locks looked freshly tightened and skin glistened. He was a fine man indeed.

“You clean up nice,” you both said at the same time.

“How are you holding up?”

You bobbed your head from side to side indicating you were not great but not terrible.

“That could change in an hour though,” you added.

Tyrone held his arm out for you, and you looped it. He’d been hanging around for about 8 months now. Ever since a charity game between Aston Villa’s WFC and Arsenal’s where he’d cheered you on rather than the women’s side of his club you’d struck up a friendship. Truth be told, you couldn’t shake him. He showed up to your games when he didn’t have one, commented on your socials, constantly asked you to hang out, and even accompanied you to football events both of you needed to be at. It was nice, he was fun, and you now considered him a good friend.

Everyone on your team believed he was doing everything he could to woo you. While you couldn’t believe it, you did see some small signs he might be into you. You’d never reciprocated any of his advances because you didn’t think you could. You truly believed something inside of you was broken.

You had no interest in a repeat of what had happened to you a few years ago. You could call it once bitten, twice shy, or whatever. The facts were simple, ever since that night you’d pushed pause on anything that wasn’t football. You dedicated yourself to your training and becoming indomitable. You’d learned your lesson then and didn’t want any others.

Instead, you trained like a beast and put in all the work necessary to step your game up. In truth, you’d probably used football as a crutch and a means to forget Lewis and what your heart still felt for him. You’d even done your best to stay away from everything related to him but that had proved to be impossible. You lived in the same country, ran in the same circles and he was everywhere. You could barely walk down the street without seeing a magazine that didn’t have some coverage of him. It also didn’t help that F1 was one of two national sports of England and people truly lost their shit over him.

In the last near 3 years, his image had only gotten bigger, his fame more blinding and his alleged conquests more gorgeous. You had all the evidence needed that he didn’t give a shit about you. Within two weeks of you, he was rumored to have someone else he was giving his attention to. That was probably the worst part. You couldn’t escape the rumors.

The rumors were everywhere, and those rumors triggered some of the worst nights for you. For a long time, you couldn’t sleep because your imagination ran wild. You couldn’t do much of anything without thinking of him. Your only escape was football. At least for that you probably should thank him. You’d used him to become the monster you were today.

Arsenal management introduced you and the team to tens of people. You shook hands, smiled, posed for pictures, and mingled. Barely anyone stuck out because all the faces and names blended together after an hour. You knew this win was bolstering Arsenal’s image but when someone approached you and proposed you play during the offseason for a major off-season league it hit you that this win had catapulted you into a whole different layer in the atmosphere. You’d become bankable.

“Y/N, let me introduce you to some major players,” your assistant coach said to you just as Tyrone came up on your right side with two glasses of champagne.

“Uh, sure.”

Tyrone held his arm out to you again and you looped it. As you walked across the room you took the flute of champagne he offered and downed it.

“I love watching you work a room,” Tyrone whispered against your ear.

His lips brushed against you making you glance up at him. “I had no idea.”

“There’s a lot you have no idea about,” he replied, voice still tipped lower than ever before.

“Like what?”

His lip quirked up and he leaned closer again. “Like how irresistible I find you and how badly I’m trying to not pull you into a corner to kiss you senseless.”

Your eyes bugged. He’d finally shown his hand. Long gone were his flirty innuendos and could be, couldn’t be hints. You didn’t know what to say, all you could do was stare at him.

“Eh-em.”

You tore your eyes from Tyrone’s and looked at your assistant coach who nudged his head forward. Looking in front of you, you got the wind knocked out of your lungs for the second time in 30 seconds. Your eyes locked with Lewis’ burnt honey ones and instantly your heart thudded painfully in your chest.

“Ah!”

You gripped your chest and five men lurched forward in an attempt to console you. Before anyone could touch you, Tyrone took your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close.

“Are you alright?”

You rubbed at your chest and took a few breaths before you nodded.

“You should have been admitted,” your assistant coach muttered.

You waved off his concern and smiled. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Tyrone cupped your cheek, bringing your face closer so he could really assess you. The gentleness in his touch and the tenderness in his eyes took you by surprise. Yeah, he’d been flirtatious before, but this was different. He’d declared intentions moments ago and suddenly these touches felt different. Your heart should have been touched, warmed at least but nothing. That wall you’d built around your heart steadfastly remained.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

You lowered Tyrone’s hand and looped yours with his before looking in front of you again. Though you tried to keep your gaze from his, your eyes still met Lewis’. His jaw was tightly clenched, eyes blazing with intensity and coldness. He looked like he was on the verge of decking someone. You were introduced to the two men flanking his left and right and then him. You had two ways to play this and decided on the path that would keep your promise from those years ago.

You smiled and held out your hand to him, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Lewis didn’t budge. He stared into your eyes as if he too were making his own decision of how to handle this moment. It felt like an eternity passed before he took your hand and shook it. Once he touched you, a static electric shock coursed through you and though it was slightly painful, it felt good though. Too good.

As you slowly shook hands, your eyes remained locked on one another as if no one else existed in this room and neither of you had anywhere else to be. Again, your heart thumped painfully against your chest cavity making you flinch. Yanking your hand away, you flexed your digits trying to shake off the feeling.

“Em, sorry. I dislocated this earlier it’s a little sore,” you appeased.

Why? You didn't know. You didn't have to explain why you wanted to keep your parts from his. You looped your arm with Tyrone's again and held tighter to him. You caught Lewis's eyes moving to your joined arms and yet again the tight clench of his jaw couldn't be missed.

How odd, you thought before you were distracted by one of the men with him addressing you.

“Amazing match, Y/N. Lewis has not been able to stop gushing about your skill and how coolly you handled yourself.”

You looked at Lewis who was still looking at yours and Tyrone's interlocked arms.

“Uh, thank you…I guess.”

“Still haven't learned how to take a compliment, huh.”

Lewis's comment caught you off guard and it must have been the case for Tyrone as well because you could feel his eyes on you. Not bothering to reply you smiled and simply shrugged.

The conversation continued with you having no way to escape. You'd often thought about the first time you spoke after the way things ended and you'd done your best to convince yourself that you were long past it and him. You were certain that you would be able to talk to him without feeling a thing.

Two and a half years had passed, but that was not the case. Being near him now made every injury you had thrice worse. The pain medication had taken 95 percent of the pain but the 5 that remained was persistent. Your body ached worse being in front of him and that one touch triggered some innate response.

So, not only were you trying to keep a brave face on so no one knew the extent of your injuries, but you were also trying to pretend like seeing Lewis again up close wasn’t affecting you. You had to pretend you'd never known what it felt like to intimately touch his flesh, or press your lips to his, or have him deep inside of you. You had to pretend like you hadn't fallen in love with an emotionally unavailable man who’d shown what he thought your worth was by letting you walk away. You had to pretend like you hadn’t made a complete fool of yourself in front of him and that he hadn't seen you at your most vulnerable and turned way.

When Tyrone came up with an excuse to get to the table, you were thankful. Visibly weaker, Tyrone held tightly to you as he led you away and as you walked away you could feel Lewis' eyes boring holes into your back. Tyrone sat you in your seat then pointed out his seat at the next table then kissed your cheek before he went to his seat.

With a little time to yourself you recalled what the man with Lewis had said.

“…Lewis has not been able to stop gushing about your skill and how coolly you handled yourself.”

How did he know how you handled yourself? You were sure that commercials would have been on during the chaos after the tackle. The only way for him to know that was if he was in the stadium. The realization hit you so hard that another strong stab of pain surged through you making you squeeze the edge of the table.

With white spots dancing behind your eyes, you counted through it and focused on keeping your breathing leveled as you tried to push any other thoughts out. When the pain subsided, you looked up and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. Barely making it halfway around the room, you locked eyes with Lewis who was seated so close but so far. Story of your entire entanglement you thought to yourself. From where you sat it was easy to mistake the intense look in his eyes for concern.

Scoffing to yourself, you shrugged the thought off, deeming it ridiculous. You wouldn’t fall for that twice. Straightening your back, you played it off and finished the glass of champagne before you in one rise to your head.

The dinner progressed with conversation on all topics mainly toasts of congratulations and a plethora of photo ops. If you were feeling better perhaps you would have enjoyed yourself more but after 2 hours you were so ready to leave. Your decline had been steady.

Every time your eyes accidentally met Lewis', your heart beat painfully. Each time you had to stand and pose for a picture your hamstring furiously rebelled making you feel its wrath. Every hand you shook you instinctively reached with your right hand which aggravated your shoulder that had become increasingly tighter and tighter as time elapsed. You kept telling yourself to get through to the MVP announcement and then leave but there was too much working against you tonight.

“Everyone, thank you for taking the time to celebrate with us tonight. Here at Arsenal, we consider ourselves a family and as a family, we are always proud of each member. Strong ties, loyalty, and devotion are the principles of Arsenal.”

The room erupted into applause that took several moments to quiet.

“As we do every year we are presenting our MVP selection for this season of very high, highs and few to no lows. This team is filled with valuable players. We've been lucky to recruit the best and those bests have only gotten more and more exceptional. Although I can only give this to one woman tonight I wish I could give it to all of them.”

Again everyone applauded. A few of your teammates patted your shoulder and pointed at you. It only made you more anxious. While this award wasn’t a huge deal, it was a big one. It said a lot within the sport, and it also would open you up to so many more opportunities. Not to mention anyone who got the MVP award was definitely getting a contract extension and with that extension a raise.

“So, without further ado, this woman has really gone above and beyond. She has not only enhanced her skill but has shown every football club why she deserves to be considered one of the brightest rising stars in the sport. Her stats speak for themselves and so do her moves. If you ask anyone on the team not only is she talented but she's humble. Not only a shark but a team player. Not only fierce but kind. So let me introduce this season's MVP. Y/F/N & Y/L/N!”

Shock flooded you and soon disbelief set in. As everyone around you stood and clapped, you remained seated unable to believe your name had been called. Your teammates all released a warrior's war cry as they surrounded you trying to coax you into action.

You hugged them all and smiled at others at your table then hugged Tyrone who was all smiles.

“You deserve it,” he whispered to you before he kissed your cheek.

You then made your way to the stage. You were so happy that your table was close but that happiness was short-lived when you clocked the 4 steps onto the stage. Before you could panic, you saw Lewis approach the side of the steps holding his hand out to you.

Internally, you panicked but externally you were as cool as a cucumber. You'd worked hard to cut yourself off from useless emotions and while his effect still had a relentless hold on you, you could rise above it. So, you did just that –raised above it. You slid your hand into his and ignored the electricity passing through your hand, and the way your belly flipped from the tightness of his hold, and his scent that was so familiar but so different bombarding you, and even the pain in your chest that intensified thanks to his proximity.

Each step up was slow and with each step, he was mindful of not only your dress but also your body. You noticed how he took most of your body weight on the right side as if he knew your hamstring was shredded. He also used a second hand to secure your shoulder which you'd mentioned was dislocated a few hours before so there was no added strain. When you suddenly leaned back thanks to a spasm of pain in your ribs, his arm was there bracing your back holding you in a way that brought memories to the forefront of your mind.

How did he know to do these things? Did he know the specifics of your injuries? How? Had he really been in the stadium?

Lewis walked you to the podium then stepped back so he was in the darkened part of the stage clearly trying to not steal your shine. The room continued and it took a while to quiet down still wanting to clap, cheer and warrior cry to their heart's content.

You felt a rush of pride swell through you. It had paid off. The road here hadn't been easy. You'd pushed yourself to the max and then some, sacrificed a lot, and even went through a time of depression because of everything. Now it all seemed worth it.

Once the room quieted, you gave your acceptance speech thanking everyone by name, mentioning any and everyone who had a part in making this possible today. You didn't leave anyone out and made sure they each knew how grateful you were to and for them.

When you recounted how much work you'd done in the last nearly 3 years, your emotions caught up with you. It was then the memories of you and Lewis came back, memories of the heartbreak, memories of how hard healing was, and how much you struggled to even get out of bed and make it to practice. It was also then another bite of pain hit you, this one worse than all the others. You gripped your chest and hunched over the podium as the microphone feedback rang through the room.

Your vision blurred and all sound disappeared as you struggled to catch a breath. In the blink of an eye, all you saw was light being shut off all around you until only one remained as you felt yourself falling. Rather than the pain of a hard floor, you felt strong arms. Over you, you peered into a blurry face that went in and out of focus but brought with those strong arms, a familiar feeling washed over you. One you'd felt all night. Lewis.

As the last light shuttered, you made out one final word.

“Babygirl.”

~~~~~~~~

Everything ached but also felt numb. It was a strange combination. Fluttering your eyes open you heard loud voices just a breath below a shout.

“I've got it from here. You can go.”

“Excuse you? I'm not going anywhere. You can go. Like what is your purpose here anyway? She doesn't even know you.”

A snort sounded in the room. “Trust she knows me more than she knows you.”

“How? You just met a week and a half ago.”

“Don’t worry about other people's business. Mind yours.”

“She is my business. Look just because you’re Lewis Hamilton doesn’t mean anything here.”

“And who are you mate? Some rookie footballer on a come up?”

Clatter followed then several voices.

“You both need to leave! There is no fighting in here.”

“Take it outside!”

Panic and confusion welled within you, and it only intensified when you realized you couldn’t speak. It was then you realized the long tube over your head. The machines then went insane and seconds later you were surrounded by people. To the back of the huddle, you caught a glimpse of Tyrone and Lewis but in seconds they were gone.

“Calm down, Y/N. It’s all right. You’re safe, and currently admitted to the hospital. You’ve been here for a little over a week and we had to intubate you.”

The more she spoke the more you panicked until you were struggling against them trying to get out of the bed.

“She’s panicking. Sedative.”

That was the last thing you heard before it went black all over again.

~~~~~~~~~

When your eyes opened again the room was bright—too bright. Squinting you groaned but it came out sounding more like a toad’s croak. in seconds you were flanked by the faces of your family.

“Y/N?”

Your mother gently cupped your cheeks as tears streamed down her cheeks. You opened your mouth to reply but nothing came out. You tried again and again but still, there was no sound.

“It’s okay calm down. You were intubated. It’s normal to not be able to talk for a few hours,” your father informed.

Slowly, you calmed yourself but then wondered why you were intubated. Seeing the question in your eyes, your mother responded.

“You had a collapsed lung. You should have gone straight to the hospital so they could treat it but the delay in treatment made it worse. You’re so stubborn.”

You smirked and raised your hand to wipe your mother’s cheek hoping she took it as your apology. She held your hand to her cheek and stared lovingly into your eyes. Soon the doctors came in to check you over to gauge your healing progress. As they examined you, they filled you in on every medical measure that had been taken. They seemed to know the questions you had so as they went they answered them. Thankfully, you’d make a full recovery with time and physical therapy. They didn’t see any reason why your ability to play the sport should be hindered.

An hour later, your teammates all rolled through with flowers, stuffed animals, and get-well banners and cards. They teased you about your dramatic antics with fainting while you had everyone’s attention ensuring you’d be the talk of the town for weeks if not months. You laughed but with every chuckle, your ribs fought you. When they left the doctors ordered no more visits for the day so you could get some needed rest.

You were grateful because you were downright exhausted.

The next day you woke feeling a little more like yourself, especially since you woke up with the raspy version of your voice. While it sounded like you smoked 3 packs a day it was better than nothing. By noon after your first PT appointment for your hamstring, you were in good spirits. That was when Tyrone’s face popped around the threshold holding an embarrassing bouquet of flowers.

“Hey there gorgeous.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. He approached you and then bent to kiss your cheek.

“You must have taken a bicycle kick to the face recently cause you’re blind.”

He chuckled and placed the flowers on your bedside table.

“For you.”

“Thank you.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better than bad, worse than great.”

He nodded then rubbed the back of his neck. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Tyrone sat in the chair beside the bed staring at you as if he had so much to say to you.

“What?”

He sighed then leaned forward. “I have feelings for you, Y/N.”

You froze.

“You had to know.”

You remained silent.

“I’ve been debating with myself for months, 8 to be specific on if I should continue pursuing you or move on. I wasn’t sure if it was me you weren’t feeling or if I wasn’t being direct enough so—I have feelings for you. I like you—a lot.”

“I love you, Lewis.”

Your words from three years ago echoed in your head. You saw the scene playing before you again and coupled with Tyrone’s confession you remained frozen in panic. It felt like you were in the same situation again.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes focused on him again and you fought to push the memories away.

“You had to know.”

“I—I didn’t. not really.”

“And now that you know? Do you—do you feel the same?”

The long stretch of your silence must have been answer enough. Tyrone blew a breath out.

“Do you feel anything for me?”

Again you couldn’t speak. Pinching the bridge of your nose you sighed.

“Wow,” Tyrone said.

“Ty, I think you’re great.”

“Aw man.”

“No. Let me finish. You’re great. You’re fun, funny, sweet, kind, giving, chivalrous and so many other things. You’re a good guy and I wish I felt the same way as you. I wish I felt. I just—I can’t.”

“Wish you felt? What does that mean? Were you just toying with me?”

“I never toyed with you and I’m sorry if that’s what you think. I’m—I’m not in any mind frame to reciprocate what you feel.”

He looked genuinely confused and just as you were going to open your mouth to say more there was a knock. Both of you turned around to see Lewis standing there holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. A slew of emotions filled you, annoyance, relief, awe, hope, anger, and something that resembled happiness.

He smiled while keeping his eyes on you.

“Jasmine and Gardenias still your favorite flowers?”

“You know each other?”

“I tried to tell you, mate, now your feelings hurt.”

You watched Tyrone look between you and Lewis a few times each time his eyes got bigger and bigger.

“Wow. Wow, woooow. I see.”

“Ty, it’s not like that.”

He stood and raised his hand. “It’s all right, Y/N. I get it. I’m gonna get out of here. I hope you’re well soon Arsenal needs you.”

You stared at each other and read what he wasn’t saying with words. He was giving you an out, releasing you from any sort of obligation to reciprocate his feelings. You recognized the look in his eyes. It was the same look you had those years ago.

“Thank you, Ty.”

He nodded. “I’ll call you.”

With that he walked to the door and shoulder checked Lewis in an aggressive confrontational move. Lewis scoffed but didn’t retaliate.

“Bye Ty,” Lewis taunted.

When it was just the two of you, you registered the change in the air. Before it was filled with such high testosterone. The testosterone of a man trying to mark his territory and now it only got more pungent. Lewis approached you and with every step he took toward you, you inched backward as if he were poison itself.

Lewis placed his bouquet of flowers down in front of the one Tyrone had just brought and the heady scent of gardenias and jasmine circled you. He’d often brought you them in the past. Why did he remember your favorite flowers? With cautious eyes you watched him sit in the seat.

“How do you feel?”

You almost laughed. You hadn’t expected the first words he’d say directly to you one on one would be these. You didn’t know what you’d expected but this wasn’t it.

“Fine,” you lied.

“With a shredded hamstring, a dislocated shoulder, bruised ribs, a collapsed lung you’re fine?”

There it was. Confirmation.

“Why do you know that?”

Lewis didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared at you for such a long time it made you uncomfortable. When you realized he wasn’t going to answer you looked away.

“Thanks for the flowers, you should go.”

“Why don’t want to see me?”

“Why would I want to see you? There’s no reason for you to be here. We don’t know each other.”

“Oh come on Y/N. We know each other better than most.”

“I disagree, you know 90% of the female population just as well.”

His brow flicked up as his mouth screwed.

“Wait that was 2 years ago. What is it now 95 percent? No? 98?”

Lewis scoffed and shook his head.

“I might deserve that.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not doing this. There really is no reason to. Let’s go back to staying away from each other and ignoring the other’s existence. Please leave.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Lewis began.

“Okay you’ve done that. I’m fine. On the mend will make a full recovery.”

“Y/N—.”

“Thanks for stopping by. Have a good one.”

You turned away from him looking to the left where the entire side was taken up with flowers, cards, and balloons. Lewis sighed, stood then walked to the door. You didn’t know where the anger was coming from. You thought you’d moved past that. Unable to, you looked at his back. Those years ago you didn’t think you were strong enough to watch his back as he got further and further away from you and sitting here now you remembered every feeling you had that night. You also remembered the repercussions of those feelings.

"We shouldn't have ever done this. I shouldn't have done this.”

The tears pricked your eyes, and the overwhelming feeling of loss and heartbreak consumed you. His back for further and further but before he walked through the door he paused. you pressed your palm to your mouth hoping to stifle any sound from passing. After a few moments, Lewis walked out of the room, turning right down the hall before the door closed behind him.

Once alone you waited a few moments before you allowed yourself to cry. Though you tried you couldn’t stop. The tears just kept coming until you were so worked up that your entire body felt as if it were going haywire. Suddenly, you couldn’t control yourself, you couldn’t seal yourself off from all the things you thought you’d dealt with but were now bombarding you.

You grabbed your pillow, buried your face in it and screamed until your throat burned. Then you bawled. Suddenly your door flung open and in walked Lewis.

“You’ve got me fucked up; you walked out. You left!”

You were so far down your spiral that you couldn’t stop your tears. Lewis hurried across the room to you asking a series of questions to gauge what was wrong.

“Don’t—Don’t touch—me!”

Lewis stopped right beside you respecting your wishes. “What’s wrong?”

“G—g—ge—get out!”

“No. Talk to me, Y/N.”

“Get out!”

The last thing you wanted was for him to see you like this—not again. He’d seen you fall apart those years ago and you couldn’t do it again. Two nurses rushed in asking questions about what happened but when they didn’t get any response one of them escorted Lewis out as the other tried to console you. However, nothing worked which led them to sending you into the oblivion of darkness yet again.

~~~~~~~~~

-Two Weeks Later-

The moral of the story for you had always been that while love was a pure emotion it was a weakness, and it was a weakness you couldn’t afford. The solution was to block it with everything in you. However, that was no solution at all. You pushing down your feelings, ignoring them, and practically running from the pain only ended up catching up to you. You saw that now.

The last two weeks of recovery were tough. While the pain was manageable with heavy meds you were cooped up in your house with nothing but your head as company. That meant you thought about everything all over again. You had to come to terms with the pain and face everything you’d buried from shame and embarrassment.

When the doorbell rang, you expected it to be food, so you hobbled on your crutches to the door but when you opened it, there stood Lewis.

“No.”

You attempted to slam the door, but he caught it. “Can we talk?”

“No. How did you find out where I lived?”

“Reese.”

Everything clicked then. He had been at the match and Reese was his informant. Sighing, you dipped your head and mumbled a curse.

“Please, Y/N. I think it’s 3 years overdue.”

You scoffed and the urge to smack him with your crutch filled you. He must have seen it before he raised his hands in defeat. For the first time, you saw the two bags he held.

“The unconscionable mix of Thai and sushi still your favorite?”

Just then your belly rumbled giving him the answer.

“You should consider moving, the attendant downstairs let me take your food up just because I was Lewis Hamilton.”

Rolling your eyes, you hobbled away giving him a few seconds to catch the door. If he did he did if not oh well. When you got to the living room you dropped into the seat and elevated your leg with a groan.

“You’re the only person who will eat Thai and sushi together,” Lewis said as he laid out the containers from the bags across your center table.

Slowly, you slid down to the floor then began building a bed for your thigh. Lewis approached and took over stuffing couch pillows under and around your thigh until your leg was properly elevated. Your eyes briefly met but it only lasted a few seconds. Silently, you dug into the containers and focused on piling your plate with food.

“I only bought for me. Your plant-based ass will just have to starve.”

Lewis snorted then chuckled. “It’s all good.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Your answer was short, and voice clipped and it was enough for him to get that you didn’t want to talk. You ate in silence for several minutes but soon you turned on the tv. Lewis reached for the remote and turned it off making you sigh.

“Come on. Haven’t you taken enough? Now you want to take my tv?”

“I’ve taken? Y/N. I’m lost here. You walked out. You left me in that hotel room in Mauritius. You did that.”

“Was I supposed to stay to hear words that were pointless in saying? Was I supposed to stay so you could have the upper hand? Fuck out of here Lewis.”

“The upper hand? Y/N this wasn’t a game.”

“Wasn’t it? From the beginning it was a game, and you know it. The only thing is I was the one who lost.”

“I never--.”

“Stop Lewis. What do you want?”

He groaned, rubbed his forehead as he shook his head. He looked distressed as if you were aggravating him, but he had no right.

“For the last 3 years I’ve carried so many regrets.”

“Same here.”

“Do you regret meeting me? Regret being with me?”

Looking at him you paused your chopsticks in their air. It wasn’t a hard question. You knew the answer. Was it the truth though? Was it your bitterness speaking? You broke eye contact and went back to your food.

Lewis sighed then spoke, “I regret letting you walk out that door. I regret not going after you. I regret not showing up at your place to clarify things. I regret these 3 years apart. I regret staying away. I regret not telling you the truth of matters. I regret—making you cry. I regret hurting you.”

With every bomb dropped your heart pounded louder and louder. Soon it felt like there was a herd of horses in your chest wildin' out. Keeping your eyes planted on your plate, you fought the urge to look at him. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the uncertainty and hope in your eyes. You wanted to kick yourself for feeling hope.

“Well what’s done is done,” you tightly said.

“Aren’t you going to ask what I mean?”

“What’s the purpose? The answer holds no authority to me. No one can change the past and talking about it is pointless.”

“Come on Y/N,” Lewis pleaded.

“What Lewis! What! What do you want to talk about? Hm? You wanna talk about how many regrets you have? Fine. Why does it matter?”

Your explosion was from your aggravation. You knew the longer you talked about this the more pain it would cause. So what if after 3 years he was having regrets and now felt like talking. So what if he was trying to appease his conscience so he could sleep better. So what if the consequences of his bad decisions were finally catching up to him.

“It matters because I’m here and I want to make things right. I want to do right by you.”

“After 3 years?”

You laughed manically then. It sounded bitter, hell it tasted bitter.

“Hear me out—please.”

You struggled to stand and grimaced the entire time. Lewis lunged over to assist but you lurched away.

“I can manage.”

Once up, you hobbled to the kitchen on the hunt for one of the bottles of Umeshu that you stored for nights you ate Thai and Sushi. It didn’t take you long to find the gorgeous bottle that had paintings of Japanese cherry blossoms all over it. You grabbed a glass from your overhead cupboard then hobbled back to your seat. Not bothering to build a fort for your leg you filled the cordial glass you had.

“Should you be drinking if you’re on meds?”

You side-eyed him sending every bit of annoyance to him. Nodding, he backed down. Knocking the tart but sweet liquor back, you slurped and hit your hand on the table as it burned your tastebuds.

“Mmm.”

You poured another and repeated your action, then 2 more followed. You moaned again. “Mm, if I hear you out will you leave and drop this?”

Your eyes met.

“If you still want that then yes.”

You poured and knocked back one more glass then slammed it on the table. “All right. Go ahead.”

Lewis slid down to the floor with you then took your glass and poured his own drink and gulped it.

“Thought you gave it up.”

“A bit of liquid courage is needed,” he said before he took another glass full.

Lewis held the bottle with one hand and the glass with the other as the silence filled the room. With the lights dimmed only enough to give the room a very soft glow it felt like an intentional romantic setting. You almost wanted to get up and turn the lights on full glare but the hassle of getting up stopped you and you deemed it best to have whatever conversation he wanted in as little light as possible.

“When we met I wasn’t—a great guy. I had good qualities I know that, and those qualities maybe made it seem like I was a good guy, but I was about 3 things. Racing, having fun, and no attachments. I didn’t want anyone hanging onto me wanting something other than fun, laughs, and sex. It was too much. So I played around and was fully about that life. I didn’t care to keep one woman, the more the better, the more the merrier.”

You snatched your glass back and poured yourself another drink. He felt like being real, real. You drank it down and let him continue.

“I saw you across the club and I instantly thought you were gorgeous. You were the only woman there not showing an excessive amount of skin who looked like they wanted to be anywhere else. I found it—you to be such a conundrum and the longer I watched you, the more I wanted to figure you out. But as I watched you I knew I should have walked away and left you alone, but I couldn’t. I tried; God knows I did.”

He sighed then took the glass and bottle back. You nearly snorted. This was a first between you. You’d never sat and drank together. You’d done so many things together but sat and drank and bared your personal truths were not among them.

“Ah,” he hissed before he continued, “When I said that I knew this wasn’t a good idea even before I touched you, from the second I looked into your eyes I meant I always knew I’d ruin you. I knew I’d break you because apparently, that is what I do with women in my world. That is what my world does to the women around me.”

You glanced at him at that confession. All this time you thought he meant something else, something more against you, but this was against himself.

“You were so innocent, and truth be told I was drawn to that, and it was probably because I liked new things and to claim things, so I did what I knew best though I warred with myself the entire time. Somewhere deep down I didn’t want to ruin you, but I couldn’t stay away. So, things escalated and escalated. Tried as I did to keep you like all the rest, slowly you ended up being like none at all.”

You swirled your finger around the rim of the glass allowing his words to settle. Your entire interaction played in your head. The things you did together outside the bedroom, the fun you had, the conversations, the cuddling, and the soft whispers. Those memories coupled with the Umeshu had you feeling soft. Groaning, you poured another glass. You were still too sober for this.

“You ended up being someone I could talk to about more than superficial shit, someone I could unload my frustrations with the sport, annoyance with my day, someone I could open up to and share pieces of myself. I didn’t even intentionally do it, it all just—happened. it was effortless. All of a sudden I stopped seeing you as this pass time, someone to distract me from everything, someone to sate my desires and have some fun with. I saw you as more.”

As he spoke you recalled when you’d gone through those very same sentiments. It was sudden for you too. So sudden that you didn’t believe it when you recognized it. After all, he was the first man you’d fallen in love with. Even thinking it you felt silly. Lewis Hamilton was your first love. And your first heartbreak, a voice inside your head reminded.

“More and more I wanted to spend time with you, more and more I kept thinking about you, and more and more I found myself breaking my rules and going out of character. The night you—told me how you felt it resonated with me and I knew I couldn’t keep you around me anymore.”

You abandoned the glass and brought the bottle to your head.

“My world isn’t as great as everyone thinks. I knew if you were part of it you’d get eaten, chewed, and spit out. I know how ugly it gets and I wanted to save you from that. I wanted to do whatever I could to not break you. So—I let you go.”

That confession hit you in the face like it were a low hanging tree branch. Looking at him you scrunched your face.

“What?”

You scoffed but that turned to a chuckle then an alcohol-induced guffaw. The irony was too good to not laugh. Long moments passed with you laughing not only at the situation but him and yourself.

“Let me get this straight. You wanted to not break me but ended up doing that very thing?”

Again you laughed.

“Y/N,” Lewis began but you cut him off.

“How completely ridiculous. Did you think ignoring me for years and pretending I didn’t exist wouldn’t break me? Did you think that after I sat there and confessed something so personal something that made me the most vaulnerable I’ve ever been in my life only to have it be met with horror and annoyance wouldn’t break me? Did you think that after I’d fallen in love for the first time, with the world’s most unavailable man, to have that man shoot me down wouldn’t break me?”

You laughed some more as you took another swig from the plum wine bottle.

“I’m sorry,” Lewis whispered. “I made a mistake. I fucked up.”

You rolled your eyes then took another mouthful ignoring the burn on your tongue and the puckering of your glands.

“I should have gone after you. I wanted to but I couldn’t--I. I wanted to tell you--,” Lewis sighed again.

You’d never seen him like this before. He always knew the right thing to say. He always said the right thing. Lewis Hamilton was eloquent and thought quickly on his feet and gave no evidence that he’d made something up on the fly. When he spoke he always held people captivated. The man sitting adjacent to you was not that man.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

You scoffed again. There was a time when you thought hearing him apologize was what you wanted. You thought hearing those words would make you feel better but hearing them now and seeing the condition of him across from you didn’t feel any better.

“I thought I wanted your sorries, that I deserved them for how you made me feel but now—it doesn’t matter. You got your freedom that night, your days, nights, weeks, months, years. You got freedom and peace, but I got trapped and tormented. You were okay all these years. You went on with your life, went on with your conquests and party lifestyle. You went on and had great days, you slept well. I didn’t get that. I didn’t get my days or nights, or weeks or months, all this time I was trapped in this loop of heartache and shame. My world stopped and yours spun on. I wasn’t okay, I didn’t have great days or slept well, I’ve had trouble sleeping for 3 years,” you absentmindly listed.

You sighed then shook your head, “When a heart breaks it’s never an even break. You got the better end.”

You raised the bottle to your head again and managed two gulps before Lewis pulled it from you and took a few gulps of his own.

“You have no idea how wrong you are. I got freedom? Ha! I got peace? I wish! You’ve haunted me for every single day of the last 3 years. Your face, your smile, Christ almighty your smile, your voice, your touch, your scent, your laugh. Fuckin’ “ell!”

Lewis grabbed his head then slid closer to you. In your head, you moved back but in reality, you remained where you were.

“I was not okay. Yeah to everyone looking in I looked fine but what was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to go out looking how I felt inside? Was I supposed to look like I was on death’s door as I felt?”

“Yes!”

Your words slammed against all the walls in the living room giving him the first definite indication of the rage you felt deep down.

“Yes! Yes, you were supposed to do all of that. You didn’t and made me feel so small, so insignificant in your life, like the last year we’d spent together truly meant nothing at all. You moved on within 2 weeks. 2 weeks! Had me feeling like I deserved that shit, like it was my fault that I couldn’t stay in the fucked-up parameters we’d established.”

“I never said it meant nothing that you meant nothing, Y/N.”

“You never said anything. Your actions did it all. Your actions. This is just about hooking up Y/N, then you look at me so deeply so intensely that you steal my breath. I can only give you this, Y/N, then you cuddle with me for hours whispering how sweet and amazing I am. What the fuck Lewis! You played with me like a toy then had the nerve to be horrified.”

“I love you!”

Everything stopped then. Time, light, space, the universe, your heart. Everything. You snapped your head to him. His eyes were already on you, those dewy pots of melted molasses that promised so much more than forever, the eyes that looked so tortured now.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you since you showed up at my house drunk out of your mind ready to dance for me. The night you gave the worst striptease in the world, the night I saw the goofy, hidden seductress you keep buried. The night you allowed yourself to be completely out of your box and just be. I fell in love with you that night, I fell so hard that I didn’t bother using a condom that night. I fell so completely that I risked it all and left it up to whatever powers that be. I let go of control that night and fell in love with you.”

Your eyes were wider than saucers at that confession. There was no way that was true. He’s lying, you kept telling yourself.

“Bullshit.”

“Hand to God. The night you told me how you felt I wanted to risk it all again, I wanted to tell you how I felt, I wanted to make every promise under the sun to you and vow you’d have me completely and openly. I wanted so fucking much that night and I almost took it all, but I couldn’t. I was—scared. I didn’t know how any of it had happened, I didn’t expect it and I sure as hell didn’t know how to accept it. I was scared I’d ruin you, scared my life, my world would ruin you, and have you hate me in the end like it had to others.”

You stared into his eyes reading him, trying to gauge the level of truth in his words. You hated that more than half of you wanted to believe him, hated that you wanted to throw everything away and wrap yourself into him and those 3 words. Tearing your eyes from his, you looked down at the bottle. A heavy tear rolled down your cheek and that was how the floodgates opened.

You sobbed silently at first then let it all out. As you cried not only did the tears fall freely, but so did all the emotions you’d bottled up. You cried your anger, fears, shame, and pain out. You couldn’t hold it anymore. It was all too much.

“I can—can—can’t do this anymore. It’s too much!”

“I’m sorry. I tried to stay away from you. I tried to keep my distance, but it’s been impossible. My heart wants you; I want you. I need you in my life, Y/N. I need to be able to look into your eyes every morning, I need to hear your voice beside me, I need to feel your skin against mine, I need to hold you close, I need to love you.”

When you felt his hand on yours you wailed louder. Everything you’d wanted to hear you’d heard tonight. Everything you’d wanted to see, you saw tonight. You’d gotten it all and you didn’t know what to do next.

“Do you still love me, Y/N?”

What a stupid question you thought but you shook your head. “I can’t.”

“Y/N--,” Lewis croaked.

“Nothing has changed.”

“Everything has changed,” Lewis countered pulling you into him so there was barely any space between your bodies. “Everything has changed.”

You scrunched your face and tried to push him away, but he relented.

“3 years too late.”

“I don’t believe that. You don’t either. You can’t. This entire time I can feel the struggle in you, I can hear it and see it. You don’t mean that.”

“Lewis--.”

“It’s never too late. I’m here. I know I was wrong; I know I fucked up. I know I hurt you and I have to put the work in for your forgiveness and to show you that you can trust me. I can do that. I want to. Your world stopped that night but mine didn’t spin on, it stopped too. All these years I’ve been trapped in this loop of regret and self-hatred, all because I wasn’t strong enough—brave enough.”

With every word, you found yourself allowing him closer and closer despite your head warring within you. It was telling you to run. When Lewis tilted your chin up your eyes met and that’s where they remained.

“Do you love me?”

More tears welled in your eyes just as you shook your head.

“You’re lying. I can see it.”

You pulled away from him and it felt like forcing superglued skin apart. When you’d managed to create some space between you, you groaned from the pain that his absence brought. Not again, you thought.

“You have to leave. Go.”

“Y/N.”

“I told you I’d let you explain, and I did, and you said you’d leave when you were done if I still wanted it.”

“You want me to leave?”

“Yes.”

Silence stretched between you again. The pain on Lewis’ face was clear but you steeled your heart that somehow had turned to melted ice.

“Please, Y/N. Don’t do this. Put me out of my misery, put yourself out of this misery.”

He held out his hand to you. “Take my hand. Take my hand and show me the way to fix this. Let me back into your arms, into your life--in your heart.”

Ooof, you thought just before you rubbed your chest. He’d found his stride; his eloquence was returning, and you would never survive it.

“Lewis--.”

You stared at his hand and what was keeping you from taking it was fear. He’d broken you before, he could easily do it again. Holding that fear you knew it would only lead you to more misery. You knew fear would never make you happy. You also know you still loved him as much as you ever did. You’d never stopped. But was it enough? Could you be happy together?

His eyes said yes, your bruised heart said yes, your head said no. Your gut and instincts had left the group chat.

Heart or head, Y/N?

~~~~~~~~~~

-Two Years Later-

“Y/N. Y/N, Y/N!”

You jogged across the field to the reporter waving your down from the middle of the field while accepting pats on the back from those you passed.

“There she is. The woman of the game. The reason Arsenal brought home another title. How does it feel?”

Your smile was wide. “It feels—incredible. I’m really happy we could pull this off. Of course it’s all thanks to these women who have my back and are so incredibly skilled.”

“Of course. What a welcome back season. Arsenal’s WFC has become the most enviable WFC thanks to the relationship you all have with one another.”

“These are my besties. We really do like each other and spend so much time together. It makes working seem like play every day.”

“So you took a year off to get yourself back into beast shape but that didn’t stop these women from bringing home the title. And We had the same results 2 years ago but under different circumstances. You stand here today without injury.”

You chuckled. “Thank God. That wasn’t fun at all.”

“You worked really hard to come back from your hamstring injury and that collapsed lung. Would you say you’re in the same shape as you were two years ago?”

“No. Absolutely not. I feel like I’m in better shape this year than last year and definitely than the last before. I’ve gone through a lot of changes within that time physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually everything, and I think it all compounded to make such a profound difference.”

“Yes, you have gone through many changes, mainly a status change. You’re no longer Y/F/N & Y/L/N. You’re now Y/F/N & Y/L/N Hamilton. Or what everyone in the club likes to tease you with, Lady Hamilton.”

You snorted and shook your head. “They sure do love to tease me.”

“Would you credit your new marriage and new husband with helping you get into what you call the best shape?”

“Umm, yeah. With every life change, there will be changes that ricochet from it and everything has been positive. A better mental and emotional state helps with a clearer mind and heart which allows you to put in the work where needed.”

“So Lewis has been helping you?”

“Absolutely. I get in the training with the team, and he helps when we’re home we do jogs, we work out in the gym. He’s been great.”

“Is he here now?”

“He’s here somewhere.”

Just then you felt arms wrap around your midsection and you couldn’t help but smile widely.

“There he is.”

Lewis peppered kisses behind your ear and along your jaw clearly ignoring the sweaty mess you currently were. He released you then turned you to him and lifted you into his arms.

“Congratulations, princess.”

“Thank you.”

His hands splayed across your ass holding you there as he spun. Before he put you down he pressed his lips to yours once, twice then a third time before he dipped his tongue into your mouth to swirl around yours.

“Mmm.”

“Eh-Em.”

You pulled from him and hid your face as the women behind you let out a warrior cry in response to your nearly NC-17 display.

“Sorry,” you said.

“I’m not. She’s my wife, I’ll kiss her whenever I want.”

The reporter giggled. “No complaints here. Tell us Lewis how proud of your wife are you?”

“So incredibly proud. She worked hard for this; they all did. I am proud of all of them.”

“Congratulations on the wedding by the way.”

“Thank you. We’re very happy,” he replied.

“Very!”

“Ever since it was revealed you were engaged everyone had one thing they kept repeating, that your kids would be sports legends with both of your genes. Any comment?”

Lewis chuckled then shrugged. “Love?”

“Guess we’ll have to wait the 7 months to find out.”

Lewis’ eyes bugged then he turned you to him. “What!?”

You smiled wide and nodded.

“You’re messing with me.”

“No.”

“Y/N. Are you serious? You’re--.”

You nodded and within seconds Lewis had you in his arms spinning around.

“Oh my god. Wow!”

Lewis laughed and walked away carrying you away from anyone who wanted a moment of your time. He couldn’t care less that the interviews were part of your job.

“For real, for real?”

“Yes. I was going to tell you tonight,” you said.

Lewis cupped your cheeks and peered so deeply into your eyes that you could feel his love in your soul.

“I love you so fucking much.”

“You better remember those words when I’ve gained 50 pounds, a double chin, a humongous ass, canckles, and an insatiable sex drive because of you and your spawn.”

Lewis snorted then pulled you closer. “50 pounds, double chin, gigantic ass, and canckles doesn’t matter you will always be the most beautiful woman I see. Hands down.”

“Oh sweet talker.

“As for that insatiable sex drive…I think I am more than capable of helping out with that.”

His smirk was filled with mischief. You shook your head.

“Babes I think that’s how we ended up here, your helping out.”

The two of you laughed as he hugged you again. Lewis’ lips pressed along your neck before he began nipping at your skin.

“You’re not so innocent anymore, huh.”

“You tell me, Sir Hamilton.”

Again he smirked before bringing his lips back to your neck. You felt his hands slide down the small of your back to your ass just before he squeezed it.

“Naw, Lady Hamilton is a pro at taking this dick.”

A soft moan escaped you before you brought his hands from your ass to his side. You tipped onto your toes and went to his ear.

“And Lady Hamilton will take all that dick and then some tonight.”

You kissed his ear then jogged off. When you’d made it a few feet away you turned back to him and blew him a kiss. Lewis smiled wide and winked at you. That one simple act turned your insides into molten lava. You made your way back to your teammates completely pumped to get through all the interviews so you could go home to your man, your first love.

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

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