#fic: Faint Hearts Never Won

[angelfrombeneth]

JUST LIKE YOUR BOYFRIEND - T . NOTT

Mature Content Ahead

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Theodore are the new IT couple in Hogwarts. Theo's known for always causing up a stir but never you. Atleast you do yours in private. It isn't until your faced with Skylar Snaggle, the one girl you can't stand that you break that streak.

Warnings: Girl Fight, Smut talked about but not in detail, Blood kink Theo if you squint, Fluffy Theo and Reader, Soft boyfriend Theo

A/N: This isn't a huge fic more of a short. Merry Christmas to you all and those who don't celebrate it, I hope ur having a lovely day anyway!

Y/N Neveah. Many people loved you, many people didn't.

You were always the talk of the school for being so nice yet being in Slytherin. Boys fawned over you, some girls loved you but most hated you. School bitchiness was not for the faint hearted and you learnt that early on.

Skylar Snaggle, a ravenclaw who always had it out for you. It's like she was jealous of you and everything you did. Constantly side eyeing you and digging at you. You ignored her didn't let it get to you but fuck, was she a bitch. It only got worse when you starting dating your boyfriend.

You were in 6th year now, the past two years everytime you'd come back boys again would fawn over you how you've 'blossomed' over the summer but you belonged to one man. And that man was.

"Cara mia" You turned around smiling as Theo stood beside your locker. You took his hand smiling as you pecked his lips softly.

"I missed you... all of you" He raised his eyebrows as you rolled your eyes and hit his arm.

"Don't be crude" You fixed your tie before shutting your locker and holding his hand and walking down the corridor.

You and Theo were the hot new goss at Hogwarts. The current IT couple, consisting of the hot brood of Slytherin himself, Theodore Nott and the much desired but never achievable Y/n Neveah.

"Here's the lovely couple now" Blaise clasps his hands as the group turn to you both.

"Do we have to announce it" You grit your teeth, grimacing at Blaise. You felt Theo chuckled beside you, his soft laugh filling your ears making the corner of your mouth turn up slightly.

"You did that yourself, sucking face in the back of charms" Enzo snickered.

"True- Anyway we were planning on heading into Hogsmead. We need to stock up on fire whisky with the game against Hufflepuff fast approaching we'll need alot for our celebrations" Blaise smirked, nudging at Daphne as she scoffed at his cockiness.

"You guys might not even win" She panned.

"Don't be ridiculous Daph, when has Hufflepuff ever fucking won" Draco let out a genuine laugh at Daphne's wild assumption. The other boys laughing along with him too.

"As much as we'd love to come to Hogsmead. Daph, Pansy and I were planning on meeting with Astoria to have a little girlie evening swim" You smiled to Pansy and Daphne as you all smiled at eachother.

"Boring" Draco yawned.

"Hardly boring Draco, they'll hardly be wearing anything" Mattheo smirked. A alight blush appearing across Theo's cheek at the thought.

Pansy smacked Mattheo hard with her wand into his chest, earing a sharp 'ow' from the boy. "Don't be disgusting"

"Have fun at Hogsmead though!" Pansy giggled as the three of you began to walk off.

"Wait-" Theo grabbed your hand as you turned to him.

"Have fun, be safe" He smiled before pecking your lips.

"Aww cute" Daphne cooed.

You ruffled Theo's hair softly before walking off with the girls.

"You and Theodore are so cute, I'm so jealous!" Pansy whined as the three of you walked down the hall.

"Blaise isn't even cute like that, it sucks!" Daphne groaned.

"Stop it" You shook your head.

Later in the evening you and the girls relaxed by the black lake taking a light swim with eachorher, gossiping and catching up on the latest with one another.

Finding out that Luna and Pansy have been flirting. Astoria is finally willing to settle down with Draco and stop keeping him on his toes. Daphne describing in great detail her intimate life with Blaise which - to be fair you didn't expect to be so spicy between the two of them. The girls wanted to know all about you and Theo but you'd just been taking your time. Despite the slight hook up the night before. But they knew all about that.

"What about Skylar" Pansy questioned as the four of you walked back inside the grounds. All wearing damp tshirts over your swimsuits.

"Don't even- I don't know her fucking problem. Her big mouth is always yapping about something" You snarled.

"Me? Big mouth?" You four snapped your head to see Skylar and her little minions at the top of the stairs inside the entrance.

"Oh fuck off Skylar" You scoffed, reaching the top of the stairs. As your about to walk of you hear-

"You're always running your mouth about something. Maybe focus on the fact your.. I don't know.. a stupid fucking bitch" Skylar smirked to her friends.

You turned to her. Astoria whispering "Lets just go its not worth it"

"Wow Skylar, you really ate me up there" Yiu gasped dramatically holding your heart like you'd be stabbed. "Maybe stop being so fucking obsessed with MY boyfriend. He doesn't want you and your.." You tapped your lip before speaking again. "Well, your little infestation" You smiled.

"INFESTATION? You fucking bitch. THEO IS MINE" She suddenly lunged at you pushing you back harshly.

"Yours? I don't remember him stating that while he was manhandling me last night" You laughed in her face.

It was like it was all in slow motion. As you turned around to walk away, you watched as your friends faces widened staring behind you. You couldn't react fast enough. You felt your ponytail being dragged back as your body harshly recoiled against the pressure.

You turned, locking eyes with Skylar a smirk upon her face as she tugged at your ponytail, lifting her fist to sock a direct punch in your face, splitting your lip.

After that you reached up, grabbing her hair as you yanked at it, swiping at her legs as she dropped on the floor below you, screaming. The corridor was suddenly not so peaceful as both you and Skylar hurled abuse at one another while Pansy, Daphne and Astoria were trying to yank you both apart along with Skylars friends.

You climbed ontop of the girl, stabilising yourself as you socked a punch into her face as she clawed at yours.

"YOU BITCH!" she screamed as she yanked your hair again.

"OW-" you lifted your leg planting your good right in her face as you swung your arm round once more punching her before you heard tons of footsteps yelling and scrambling towards the both of you. You watched as her tooth cracked and slid across the floor as she spat blood up in your face.

"BEAT HER ASS Y/N!" Pansy yelled from behind. Daphne scolding her as the three continued to try and pull you girls apart without falling in the firing line.

Both of you were clawing at one another. You were landing way more than her let's say. Her face was full of blood as you dug your acrylics into her cheek.

You felt yourself harshly being yanked off the girl as you scrambled towards her but being held back. "LET ME AT HER! WHORE!" You screamed.

"MY FACE! YOU.. YOU.. SLUT!" Skylar screamed at she ran off down the hall with her friends.

You felt hands on your face as you turned to be face to face with Theo. You watched as he analysed every aspect of your face, checking if you're ok.

"Teddy- I'm so-"

"Shhh" He placed his finger upon your lip as he took your hand into the bathroom leaving all the rest of your friends stunned at the scene from before.

He sat you upon the sink as he took off his shirt, dampening it before wiping all the blood from your face.

Theo chuckled at the thought of cleaning up after you having a fight. "Look at my girl, getting into fights like her boyfriend" He smirked as he pecked your lips softly.

"I can't help it- she's so obsessed with you Teddy. It's annoying" you scoffed. "Are you sure you didn't fuck her"

"Bella, I told you. You were my first and you'll ne my last" He caressed your face softly.

You smiled at his words as he finished wiping your face up and smiled.

"You did good, only a cut lip. Atta girl" He squeezed your thighs softly as he leaned forward, kissing your nose.

"Learned from the best" You smiled.

"Amore mio.. I love you" He snickered before capturing your lips in his. Softly kissing eachother as his hands held your waist softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you locked your legs around his waist pulling him in closer.

He pulled away, softly sucking on your bottom lip before pulling away and licking his lips before wiping yours with his thumb.

"My little vampire" You cooed as you ruffled his hair chuckling.

"In future if you get in fights let me be there. You looked so hot, but ill always step in after a while. Can't let you actually get beat up" He smiled.

You hit his chest shaking your head as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!

[katsukistofu]

PLEASE (if you feel like it) WRITE FOR AIZAWA! A SICK READER TROPE MAYBE?

Btw ur fics are so good and are part of the reason why I’ve gotten back into mha <333 I love ur writing style sm and ur hawks fics??? That was amazing

hi my love! thank you so much omg that’s so sweet, i’m happy i helped you rekindle your love for mha again lol! <3

sick (but never of you)

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ s. aizawa x fem reader. fluff. cursing. 997 words ★ your husband insists on taking care of you when you fall ill, despite your protests.

Not this shit again. 

You groan as your eyes flutter open for the second time after you said you were fine, then proceeded to dramatically faint in Shota’s arms in the middle of your patrol and sit up, hurriedly tossing the pile of soft blankets off your body.

You shiver despite the warmth radiating from the heater nearby. Shota must have brought it out for you after getting you home.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

The disapproving voice of your husband floats over, and there he is, leaning on the doorway with a steaming bowl of something in his hands. You perk up despite yourself. Miso soup? 

“I don’t have time to sleep off a little cold, Shota!” Your arms tremble as you try to force yourself off of the plush king-sized bed. “It’s already past nine, I have to head to the agency.”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask.” Shota wraps his arms around you to trap you in place, ignoring your insistent budging. “You’re staying home today with the cat.”

“But—But they need me…” You weakly mumble in his firm grip. It was no use trying to break free, and you’re not sure if you even want to anymore with how nice he feels against you.

“And I need you here.” His stern gaze doesn’t waver, and his hand guides your head from the back of your hair, which you’re certain looks like a disaster zone right now, to rest on his chest. “It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, happy and healthy.”

Shota brushes a hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. The little beads of sweat on your skin don’t bother him in the slightest.

“So let me do my job.”

“Are you using your teacher voice on me?” You grumble into the dark fabric of his sleeveless shirt. He smells warm and like all things good, as if he just came out of the shower. 

“I vaguely recall someone commenting that it was ‘hot.” Shota’s gravelly voice teases your ear and his stubble tickles your cheek as he smirks, knowing he’s won the battle when he finally feels you melt in defeat against him. 

He brushes a soft kiss to your forehead. “Stay in bed, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” You say in a tiny voice, weakly slumping back into the sheets. 

Shota comes back with a spoon and a folded piece of paper. A hint of a smile tugs at his lips as he holds it out to you.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that wants you to stay home.”

Your eyes widen as you look at the get-well card in your hands.

feel beter soon!! lots of loove, eri it said, with millions of tiny hearts doodled around your name. You choke back a sob as your eyes fall onto the little stick figure drawings of you pushing the little gray-haired girl on a swing set. 

It looked just like the one from the playground nearby that you would often take her to on your days off.

us when youre not sick anymor! :D

“Shota, give me that damn soup.”

He chuckles deeply and scoots closer on the bed to feed you. You squeeze your eyes shut as a sharp throb suddenly pierces through your head.

“The room’s spinning again, that’s not normal is it?”

“No. No, it’s not.” Shota’s forehead creases in concern, bringing the spoon of warm soupy goodness up to your lips while his other hand holds yours.

You part your lips to drink it, letting the rich, comforting flavor of miso spread across your tongue.

Letting out a little sigh of relief, you’re about to lean back before Shota sets the bowl down on the nightstand to prop up the pillows behind you, making sure you’re comfortable before he picks it back up again and holds up another spoonful to your mouth.

“Come on, one more for me sweetheart.” 

“Not hungry anymore,” you huff, turning your head away from his outstretched hand.

He lifts an eyebrow. 

“We can cuddle after you take your medicine.”

“...Can you rub my tummy too?”

“You know I will.”

You sniffle and reluctantly open your mouth to sip a spoonful of the soup once again.

“Atta girl.” Shota smooths a kiss on your forehead, rubbing circles against the back of your hand. 

He reaches over to the nightstand to grab your medicine he picked up from the local pharmacy earlier, and hands a small cup of what he pours to you. 

You grimace at its cherry-colored contents and tilt your head back to drink it in one go like a shot.

“Good job. Now come lay on me.” He didn’t need to ask you twice, but Shota’s hands are already on your waist to gently flip you over him as he takes your previous position on the bed, setting you down to rest your head on your usual spot on his chest.

He strokes your hair gently, arm snug against your back while he presses you to him. “How are you feeling?”

“A little bit better,” you mumble, absentmindedly tracing the outline of his abs under his shirt. It's always been soothing to you.

Shota’s chest rumbles as he lets out a husky laugh. “Are you just saying that so you can keep tracing my abs?”

“Maybe.” You giggle against him, which turns into a cough and he firmly pats your back. His hand slides under your pajamas to rub gentle circles on your tummy like he promised. You softly squeal at the ticklish feeling of his hard-earned callouses against your skin, and Shota tenderly kisses your cheek once, twice.

All your senses are numb, but you can still feel the overflowing love behind them.

“Go to sleep, sweet girl. I got you,” he murmurs into your hair.

“Okay.” You comply easily this time, nuzzling deeper into his chest. “Goodnight, Shota.”

“Goodnight, angel. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you mumble before drifting off to sleep in the safety of his warm arms.

Maybe being sick wasn’t all bad.

[meazalykov]

one shot with one heart

lena oberdorf x uswnt!reader

summary: what if germany and the united states made it to the semi-finals of the 2023 world cup? how would the two lovers handle it?

disclaimer/warnings: guilt, longer fic, i took real life events from the uswnt vs sweden match, and mallory never got injured before the world cup in this fic.

to you, the stadium could’ve stretched for miles filled with red, white, and blue colors– also white, red, orange, and black colors. 

one of the semi-finals of the 2023 women's world cup came down to germany and the united states. the other game involves australia and spain. 

you didn’t care so much about the oceania country and spanish country going head-to-head. at least for now. the world cup has taken over your mind for the last few months.

back in your home in munich, you pushed yourself during your games in the bundesliga. you’ve been with bayern munich since 2021, after a transfer from manchester city. at first, it took some months for you to settle in a new place. you’ve been away from your hometown of washington dc for many years, so readjusting wasn’t new to you. 

then, you’ve made friends with your entire team. your closest friends being lea, sydney, and giulia– until georgia and sam tagged along in the later seasons. 

lea schuller, your bestest friend, threw a small gathering at her apartment on a winter night in 2022. at first, you didn’t want to go. you had many chores that needed to be finished in your apartment– laundry, dishes, vacuuming– you name it. however, you suffered from a tiny case of FOMO. you decided to go at the last minute. 

as you were walking into lea’s apartment, you saw two girls that you knew from wolfsburg. being the only non-german in the room you were surprised. lea introduced you to jule and lena– since you’ve never talked to them before. except for clashes during the rivalry games. 

lena and you hit it off right away. everyone noticed how neither of you could leave the other alone. a month after talking- which happened to be a week after your birthday– lena came to visit you from wolfsburg and asked you to be her girlfriend. you said yes– and you guys have been happy since. 

the long-distance between wolfsburg and munich hasn’t been as hard as you guys have suspected. you both hoped that you will be closer together someday. 

now the game between germany and the united states ended in a 3-3. lea scoring a brace and alex popp with a goal for germany— sophia smith, lynn williams, and you scoring one goal for the united states. 

the semi-finals needed a winner. so after no goals for both sides in extra time, the game came down to penalty kicks.

andi sullivan, number 17, takes the first shot in the penalty match. you look ahead, not wanting to blink in case you missed something big. 

she scores! you let your arms wrapped behind mallory and sophia go as you clapped in support. you didn’t want to celebrate too much, since this penalty match can go either way. 

you turn your head to see your bayern teammate, giulia, stand at the penalty spot. you swallow in nervousness as you hated to wish that she missed. 

giulia scores! you hear all of the german girls, just 20 feet to your left– support your club teammate as she runs back to her line with a light smile. 

you look down at the grass before seeing your national team captain, lindsey, go up to kick. 

in your heart, you knew that lindsey wouldn’t miss. after her swift kick, you clapped in support knowing that you were right. 

alexandra popp took a shot and didn’t miss, which caused your breathing to slow a tiny bit. you were nervous. even though you won the world cup at the age of 18 in 2019– you are ambitious and want your second by 22.

as kristie stepped up, you had a faint smile. the mewis sisters were the older sisters you wished you had as the older sibling of your own family. a small amount of hope shined through your fears as you saw the back of kristies head look forward at berger. 

kristie scores! you pump your fists into the air as she runs back to the run with you. this time, she high-fives your hands before falling back into line. now, she is beside you on your right– with mallory to your left side. 

you were distracted at the thought of kristies penalty kick– so your eyes widened when you saw your bestfriend at bayern– sydney– go and take the penalty shot next. again, you felt guilty about wanting her to miss the goal.

and then she did. sydney’s foot launched the ball far into the crowd which made you relieved. the germans in the crowd sigh as the americans cheered. in your heart, you wanted to comfort her– in your mind, you were relieved that she missed. 

mallory’s right arm slowly leaves your waist as she heads towards the penalty spot. she was next. 

“you got this swanson!” you yelled, hoping that she heard you over the loud crowd. she is one of your best friends on the national team and you knew a goal would lift her nervous spirit. 

she didn’t get it, she missed. your heart dropped to your stomach as mallory walked back into line beside you. the ball she kicked was successfully blocked by berger on the right corner.

klara, one of your bayern teammates you love, goes to take a penalty kick. she missed which caused the german crowd to sigh in disappointment. 

all of your fans, friends, and family knew that you weren't enjoying this. in fact, you would’ve preferred a 90 minute game with a clear winner over this climactic scene. 

lena’s parents saw you briefly before the semi-final game and wished you luck. they’ve looked and loved you like one of their own. obi’s mother saw the nervous look in your eyes and reminded you that they would still love you even if you beat germany. 

you have the same nervous eyes looking ahead at sophia smith going to take the penalty. your stomach turns and your eyes widen at the realization of her kick. 

if sophia scores, the uswnt goes to the world cup finals. the entire country is looking at sophia on their tv screens. you can’t imagine how that would feel on the girl who's months older than you. 

when the ball goes above the goalpost, you frown as sophia covers her face with her hands. at first, you thought she started crying. you weren’t too far off. sophia tried to cover her sad looks with a poker face that wasn’t working. 

after she got back in line– on the opposite side of mallory from you– you reached your arm from behind and patted on sophia’s back. you wished you could’ve done more in that moment. 

your heart beats hard as you look ahead at your lover jog to take the kick for germany. you find yourself glued to your spot, a knot of nervousness tightening in your stomach. 

you want to cheer for your girlfriend, to hope she scores, but the conflict within you is undeniable. a small part of your mind, the part driven by the fierce desire and competitiveness to see your team advance, wishes for her to miss. 

the guilt that accompanies that thought is overwhelming, making it hard to breathe. some of your teammates tilt their heads through the line to try and look at you– seeing a nervous and guilty look plastered on your face. 

kristie and mallory, standing beside you on both sides, notice your inner turmoil through your clenched jaw. 

kristie glances at you, her eyes filled with understanding. she knew the feeling after facing australia in the olympics against sam. however, she couldn’t imagine a scenario where penalty kicks were involved.  

she already had her arm wrapped around your back, so she takes her hand and squeezes your shoulder gently, a silent gesture of support that steadies you momentarily. you’re reminded that your teammates do acknowledge you and the significance of lena being on the opposite team from you. 

lena is your rival on the club level, but that is nothing compared to a world cup semi-final.

on the other side of your body, mallory does the same thing kristie did, her hand resting reassuringly on your lower back.

you stare at lena’s body the entire time, refusing to blink. lena takes a deep breath, and you do the same, feeling the tension grow tighter within you. 

obi steps forward, striking the ball cleanly. for a fleeting moment, you hope, and you fear— you feel everything all at once.

when the ball passes alyssa’s fingers, going into the back of the net– lena jumps and yells in celebration as she jogs back to her teammates. you look at her the entire time with a straight face, but your eyes showed your small happiness for her. 

you love her so much. seeing her happy makes you happy, even with these circumstances. 

alyssa removes herself from the goal-post line and goes to the penalty spot. the older woman told you about her love for taking penalties before. the woman in green gave you a sense of confidence. 

“come on alyssa!” you yell as your teammates yell in encouragement for her. 

as her shot sprints past ann’s fingers, going into the net, you pump your fists into the air knowing that you trusted your goalkeeper to score.

now the penalties are 4-3. this terrified you. 

on the lineup, you were the penalty kicker that went after alyssa. as an attacking midfielder, you were good at penalty kicks. if the next kicker, which looks to be svenja huth walking to the penalty spot, misses— the fate of the uswnt going to the world cup final depends on you. 

you silently curse at the scriptwriters who could make this shit up. y/n, the american girl who plays in a german club and has a bunch of friends on the german national team along with the love of her life, might have to crush their dreams of being in a world cup final.

svenja’s shot was blocked by alyssa. the ball slammed right into alyssa’s gloved fingers. your heart sunk to your stomach and suddenly, your legs felt like lead that could snap in one wrong move. 

the weight of the semi-final settles on your shoulders. it's your turn, and the realization hits you— if you score, the uswnt will advance to the world cup finals, possibly leading to their fifth win ever. 

your entire team on the pitch yells words of encouragement at you. 

“you got this, y/l/n!!!” you hear julie ertz’s voice. 

“we love you!” naomi gave you reassurance. 

all of your german teammates felt fear in their bodies as they saw you walk up to position the ball on the penalty spot. out of anyone that could take the deciding shot, they were shocked that it was you. you can handle pressure, but not as much as others can. 

lena swallowed on nothing as she stared at you, the same way you stared at her taking the shot. instead, she knows that you will win the game if you make the goal. 

she knows what's at stake, both for her team and for yours. the wolfsburg midfielder is questioning how you’re handling the pressure. the tension in the stadium is suffocating, and she can feel every heartbeat echoing in her chest. 

her teammates notice her tension, offering silent pats on the back the same way the uswnt did for you with her kick, but lena barely registers them.

she bites her lip, her hands clenched tightly together, her gaze fixed solely on you as if you were the only one in the stadium. 

the stadium is a cauldron of noise. the german supporters are trying to distract y/n while the american supports hold their breaths due to the intensity of the situation. 

you managed to block it all out, focusing on ann-katrin berger, germany's goalkeeper. her eyes lock onto yours as she gives you an intimidating look, a silent challenge passing between you.

"this could be it, folks. it all comes down to y/n l/n. one goal to send the united states to the world cup finals for the fifth time." a male commentator speaks to the tv audience, where millions of people have their eyes watching your every move.

"y/n has been phenomenal this tournament. her goal from outside the box earlier could be nominated for goal of the tournament, but can she handle this pressure? this is the moment where the legends are made." the female commentator speaks up alongside the man. 

“she was just 18 years old when she assisted rose lavelle’s goal in the last world cup final against the netherlands, she has the quality that can send the united states to another win.” the male commentator defends you. 

"that's true– but we know that ann-katrin berger has been solid for germany. will she rise to the occasion or will y/n find a way through?" the woman responds. 

the world seems to slow down as you take your steps back, your mind focused solely on the goal ahead. the stadium seems to stop as you begin your run-up, each step is measured, and your heart pounds in your chest.

“y/l/nnn!” the commentator drags your last name as your foot strikes the ball cleanly, watching as it sails toward the goal. 

ann dives, her fingers brushing the ball as it was stopped over the goal-line. from your eyes, it looks like the ball went over the line. however, you know you’re biased. 

your heart stops for a quick second—did she save it? the ball did hit the ground just behind the line, and the stadium erupts in a series of shock.

your shaky hands cover your dropped jaw as you stare at the ball that lays behind the net. 

ann and you run to the assistant ref who stands closeby, ready to protest your sides. 

"was it in? did it cross the line?" you begged through for shaky hands. your lungs force itself to take deep breaths as you felt tortured, 

"the referee is checking var now, wait!"

you stand frozen as your eyes couldn’t even blink, your heart in your throat. 

the referee waits for confirmation as her fingers hold onto her ear-piece, the seconds stretching into what feels like an eternity. 

the first thing you do is turn to look at your coach, who nods his head in support. he knew you made it, but the refs made the final call. 

suddenly, you look back to see the ref staring at you. at the same second she blows the whistle and points to the center circle—- FINAL GOAL! 

all of the nervousness in your body was replaced with an overwhelming rush of relief. your teammates on the pitch and benches sprint towards you in excitement after hearing the whistle. 

some of them tackle you to the ground and they all start a pile in excitement. their cheers echoing in your ears as they embrace you. all you could do was giggle and tear up in excitement, the nerves overwhelming your tired body.

on the other side of the pitch, the germans stand in shock–. their faces are a mix of shock and sorrow, the dream of reaching the world cup final snatched away in that single moment by their bestfriend and girlfriend for lena. 

your closest national teammates, trinity, tierna, and mallory, are the first to reach you after, their faces alight with joy. this is ten minutes after the VAR call, so you calmed down from the excitement that took over your body. 

they embrace you tightly in a group hug, shouting praises, songs and congratulations. 

as they pull back from your warm body, they notice the fake smile on your face. through your eyes they can see the guilt and sadness etched on your face. also, they reflected the inner turmoil you’re struggling to hide throughout this happy moment.

"y/n, we're going to the fuckinggggg final thanks to you!" trinity exclaims, hoping that she misunderstood the look on your face. her smile fades slightly as she sees your smile come and go in the same moment.

tierna places a comforting arm around your shoulder. "are you okay? you don't look happy for someone who just sent us to the world cup finals."

mallory, always perceptive, follows your gaze to the german benches, where lena sits in denial– beside laura freigang who has tears in her eyes. 

“you're sad about lena?"

you nod, your heart felt heavy. your national teammates knew how in love you were with lena. they’ve heard about her throughout your international breaks. there is never a day where you aren’t on facetime with lena when you’re back in the states for camp. they’ve met lena once and love how much you both care for each other. 

"i– i just know how much this meant to her— i feel like i just snatched something important from her." you say as your eyes wander around the german benches. you see many of your bayern teammates sad, you hope they didn’t hate you. 

 

“i’m scared too– you guys might be my teammates here but most of the girls over there are my club teammates in germany. I don't know what to do.” you confess.

the washington spirit forward pulls you into a side hug. "awhh sweetie it's okay to feel that way. your feelings are valid but thi is just the nature of the game. they all know that– lena understands that, even if it's hard for them right now."

you bite your nails out of bad habit as you stare at tierna’s cleats unintentionally, “i might give obi space for a few days– i don’t want to poke into the wound.” you mumble. 

"no no no! you need to go to her. lena needs you right now more than ever even if you think that she doesn’t. she loves you."

mallory nods her head in agreement after taking a sip from her water bottle. 

"obviously it's going to be tough for her to move on from this loss, but she knows you're not her enemy. she knows that you might feel guilty as much as she feels hurt. she needs her love right now, not her american opponent."

after a few more minutes of girl talk, your heart pounds as your feet carries you to the german benches, fear taking over your insides. 

what if she resents you for this? what if the loss drives a wedge between you?

you gripped onto your black windbreaker jacket as you step closer to the benches. before you could reach lena, you feel a tap on your shoulder. 

“good goal, y/n.” alexandra says. you pull her into a hug as you breathe deeply. she wasn’t your teammate at bayern, but she knows you due to lena. she is the captain so she knows how much importance you have in lena’s life– just as much as lena has in yours.

“thank you– i’m so sorry.” you mumble as you pull away from your body. 

“don’t apologize. you deserve the win.” alex gives you a faint smile and pats your back.  

“yeah but–” you cut yourself off as you turn your head to look at lena, who had her head in her hands. 

“obi needs you– go talk to her.” alex says before stepping away from you. 

you play with the zipper on your windbreaker as you approach your girlfriend. she sits on the bench and can’t see you with her hands on her eyes, so you kneel down to be eye-level with her. 

“obi baby..." you place your hands on her shoulders, rubbing them back and forth as you pull her attention.

in a quick motion, she reaches out and pulls you into a tight embrace, her body shaking with disappointment. she wasn’t crying with tears, but you know she would’ve if she wasn’t in public. lena didn’t want another euros 2022 aftermath to happen to her.

"lena, you don’t understand how much i hated doing that to you, i’m sorry" you whisper, your own tears starting to fall. 

"i know. I know. it just... it hurts so much right now." lena clings to you, her grip firm yet trembling. she hasn’t felt this way since the EURO 2022 finals. you give mini kisses on the side of her head, hoping to comfort her in some way after taking away her chance to go into the world cup finals.

“i'm here for you baby, always. i’ll stay with your for a few weeks once we are back in germany before the pre-season– i am so sorry." you mumbled the last part a few times.

as the minutes pass, neither of you broke away from the hug. the noise of the stadium fades into the background. 

all of the german and american players give you both space, understanding the delicate situation between you both.

trinity, tierna, mallory, savannah, sophia  watch from a distance, their support unwavering. they didn’t know lena much, but everyone knows that lena would never hate you over this.

“you played so good y/n. i am so happy for you, please don’t believe otherwise. it's just... hard to accept the loss right now."

you nod, understanding her pain. you place your hands on the side of her face as you gave her a hopeful smile.

“i love you obi baby, i’m sorry.” 

“stop apologizing— and i love you more liebe.” 

<3

[bangchansdirty-slut]

🍊hi I'm the one who requested the jay fic

First it was so good(I've read several of your fics so I'm not surprised)

I was thinking of a park 2 were sunghoon is the cold member of the friend group and finds out about jay and m/n but thinks jay bottoms and follows m/n after school cause he is secretly curious about bottoming

(Also I'm nervous to ask this but do you write for ni-ki cause I had a cute story in mind w/ no smut cause I know some people who get really heated about this)

Ps it's OK if you don't I just thought it would be OK to ask cause you seem chill and not likely to go ballistic on me(it's happening before so it give me anxiety)

Our Secret Part .2

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Paring: Top!Jock!Jay x Switch!Nerd!Male reader x Bttm!Jock!Sunghoon

Genre: smut

Requested

Pt.1

More: Masterlist

A/n: Thank you all for the requests. I'm currently working on them, so I don't know when my next post will be, but stay tuned. Requests are still open. Also, I write for all the members of Enhypen. Also, I hope this is what you requested and I did it well.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

"You're going to be late for your math test, Jay," Sunghoon called out as Jay lingered by the lockers, his eyes glued to M/n's retreating figure.

Jay nodded absently, his mind still swirling with the memories of their last secret encounter. "Yeah, I know," he murmured, pushing off from the locker and heading towards his class. He couldn't shake the feeling that Sunghoon had noticed something different about him, but he brushed it off. He had always been the quiet, stoic one of the group—his friends wouldn't suspect a thing.

As the days passed, Jay and M/n's secret grew stronger, fueled by the stolen moments in the bathroom and the risky glances they shared in the hallways. Each meeting was a clandestine dance of desire, the thrill of discovery heightened by the fear of exposure. Jay felt alive in a way he never had before, the excitement of their secret trysts overshadowing the mundane routine of school and the increasingly dull camaraderie of the ENHYPEN.

One noon, as the bell rang and the hallways filled, Sunghoon lingered, his eyes narrowed as he watched M/n slip into the bathroom. His curiosity piqued, he waited, his thoughts racing. He knew Jay had been acting differently, and the whispers of their secret had reached his ears. He couldn't help but feel a strange mix of jealousy and fascination—Jay, the golden boy of the group, breaking their unspoken code of heteronormativity. Sunghoon found himself drawn to the bathroom door, his heart pounding in his chest.

As the minutes ticked by, he heard the faint sound of the lock turning. He waited, his breath held, until the door opened a crack. Jay stepped out, his face flushed, and their eyes met. For a split second, Jay's expression was one of pure terror, but it was quickly replaced with a smirk. "What's up, Sunghoon?" he said casually, as if he hadn't just been caught in a compromising situation.

Sunghoon felt his own face heat up, unsure of what to say. He'd never been one for confrontation, preferring to keep his thoughts and feelings buried beneath a layer of stoicism. But something about the situation, the raw passion he'd glimpsed, had shaken him to his core. "I need to talk to you," he said, his voice firm.

Jay raised an eyebrow, a hint of challenge in his eyes. "Can it wait until after school?"

Sunghoon's curiosity won out over his nerves. "No, it can't."

Jay sighed, the tension in his shoulders visibly releasing. "Fine." He led the way to an empty classroom, the silence between them charged with unspoken words. Once the door was closed, Jay turned to face Sunghoon, his expression unreadable.

Sunghoon took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts. "What's going on with you and M/n?" he asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his stomach.

Jay leaned against the desk, his eyes never leaving Sunghoon's. "What makes you think anything's going on?"

Sunghoon's voice was low, almost a growl. "Don't lie to me, Jay. I saw the way you looked at each other, the way you touched him in the bathroom."

Jay's smirk fell away, and he took a step closer to Sunghoon, his eyes searching for any sign of judgment or disgust. "It's not like that," he said softly. "I just… I can't explain it."

Sunghoon's gaze never wavered. "You don't have to. But if you're going to keep this up, you need to be careful. The others can't find out."

Jay nodded, his throat tight. "I know. Believe me, I know."

Sunghoon studied him for a long moment before speaking again. "But why M/n?" His voice was filled with confusion and a hint of accusation. "You could have anyone you want."

Jay looked away, his eyes misting over. "It's not about who I can have. It's about who I want. And…who makes me feel alive." He took a deep breath, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And it's not just about me. It's about you too, Sunghoon."

Sunghoon's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Jay took a step closer, his voice barely audible. "I know you've been watching us. And I know you've been…curious." He paused, watching Sunghoon's reaction closely. "You've always been so closed off, but I've seen the way you look at M/n when you think no one's watching. The way your eyes follow him, the way you get all tense when we talk about him."

Sunghoon's face grew hot, his heart racing. He hadn't realized his feelings were so transparent. "What are you saying?" he managed to choke out.

Jay stepped even closer, his voice a gentle murmur. "I'm saying that maybe you're not as straight as you think you are." He reached out and placed a hand on Sunghoon's arm, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through Sunghoon's body. "And if you ever want to explore that…I could help you."

Sunghoon's mind raced. He had never considered the possibility that his curiosity about M/n went beyond mere fascination. The idea of Jay guiding him through this uncharted territory was both terrifying and intriguing. He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking to Jay's hand on his arm, then back up to meet his gaze. "What are you proposing?"

Jay's eyes searched Sunghoon's, looking for any sign of rejection. "I'm saying that we could all learn from each other, you know? M/n and I, we've got this… connection. And maybe you could find something like that too." He paused, his voice dropping even lower. "I know you're curious about bottoming. I can see it in the way you watch us."

Sunghoon felt his cheeks flush, his eyes darting away from Jay's intense gaze. "How did you…?"

Jay gave a knowing smile. "It's not that hard to see, Sunghoon. And I've been there. I know what it's like to have those thoughts, to wonder." He took a step closer, invading Sunghoon's personal space. "But you don't have to wonder anymore. You can experience it."

Sunghoon's breath hitched, his eyes locked on Jay's. "How?" he whispered, the word barely audible.

Jay's smile grew, a hint of mischief playing on his lips. "Well, we could start with you watching us. Or, if you're ready, we could try something with you." He leaned in, his breath hot against Sunghoon's ear. "I'd be gentle, I promise."

Sunghoon's heart hammered in his chest, his mind racing with a mix of excitement and fear. He had never allowed himself to act on his curiosity, always pushing it down, telling himself it was just a phase. But Jay's words resonated with him, whispering the promise of a freedom he had never dared to dream of.

"Okay," he murmured, his voice shaky. "I'll join."

Jay's eyes lit up with excitement, and he gave Sunghoon's arm a reassuring squeeze. "Good," he said, his voice filled with a gentle confidence. "Meet us in the bathroom after school. We'll make sure it's empty."

The rest of the day was a blur for Sunghoon. He couldn't focus on his classes, his mind racing with thoughts of what was to come. He found himself glancing at Jay and M/n during lessons, his imagination running wild with what the two of them had been doing together. The anticipation was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, and he couldn't shake the feeling that his entire world was about to change.

When the final bell rang, Sunghoon's stomach twisted into knots. He gathered his books, his legs feeling like jelly as he made his way to the designated bathroom. He checked his watch, ensuring that the coast was clear, and slipped inside, his heart pounding in his chest. The tiles were cold under his feet, echoing his nervousness as he approached the last stall.

The door was slightly ajar, and he could see Jay's shoes peeking out. He took a deep breath and knocked lightly. "It's just me," he murmured. The door swung open, and Jay's warm smile was the first thing he saw. M/n was there too, looking equally nervous but with an unmistakable spark of excitement in his eyes.

Jay stepped aside to let Sunghoon in, his hand lingering on the small of his back. "You sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and gentle.

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes flicking to M/n, who gave him a tentative smile. "I… I think so."

Jay's hand slipped away, and M/n took its place, his touch feather-light. "We'll go slow," he promised, his voice soothing. "You can tell us to stop anytime."

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes darting between the two of them. Jay's gaze was filled with understanding, while M/n's was a mix of excitement and apprehension. They both knew the risks involved in what they were about to do, but the allure of the unknown was too tempting to resist.

M/n reached out and took Sunghoon's hand, leading him into the stall. The space was tight, but the three of them managed to fit, their bodies pressing against each other in a way that was both awkward and thrilling. Jay leaned against the wall, watching as M/n began to undo Sunghoon's pants. "Relax," he murmured, his eyes never leaving Sunghoon's.

M/n's hands were gentle as he pulled Sunghoon's cock free, his thumb tracing the vein that pulsed with desire. Sunghoon's eyes closed, a soft moan escaping his lips as he felt M/n's warm breath against his skin. Jay's own erection was clear, pressing against the fabric of his jeans as he watched the scene unfold.

M/n took Sunghoon in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip before taking him in deeper. Sunghoon's breath hitched, his knees threatening to buckle. He'd never felt anything like this before—the wet heat, the suction, the way M/n's eyes never left his own. It was like he was being claimed, and he couldn't get enough.

Jay stepped closer, his hand sliding around to cup Sunghoon's ass, pulling him closer to M/n's eager mouth. "Look at him," Jay whispered, his voice thick with lust. "You're doing so good."

Sunghoon's eyes fluttered open, meeting Jay's intense gaze. He felt exposed, but also protected, like he was part of something intimate and beautiful. Jay's hand began to move in slow, firm circles, massaging the tension from his muscles as M/n continued to suck him off. It was a sensation like no other, and Sunghoon found himself letting go of his inhibitions.

Jay leaned in and kissed Sunghoon, his tongue probing the depths of his mouth as M/n's tongue swirled around his cock. The sensation was overwhelming, a symphony of pleasure that had Sunghoon's toes curling in his shoes. He felt Jay's hand move down to join M/n's, the two of them working in tandem to bring him closer to the edge.

The kiss grew more passionate, Jay's hand gripping Sunghoon's ass tighter as M/n's pace increased. Sunghoon's hips began to move, his body taking over as he lost himself in the moment.

M/n's eyes flicked up to meet Sunghoon's, a silent question in his gaze. Sunghoon nodded, his eyes glazed with desire, and M/n took that as his cue to push him over the edge. He sucked harder, his hand moving in time with his mouth, until Sunghoon was panting and trembling, his release spilling out into M/n's eager mouth.

M/n pulled away, a smear of cum on his lips, and looked up at Sunghoon with a smug satisfaction. Jay stepped back, giving them space as M/n turned to face the newcomer. With a swift movement, M/n pulled his own pants down, exposing his already hard cock. He bent over, his asshole puckering slightly, and reached back to spread his cheeks. "I want you inside me," he murmured, his voice filled with a need that was impossible to ignore.

Sunghoon's eyes widened, his own cock still pulsing with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He stepped closer, his hands shaking slightly as he positioned himself behind M/n. Jay watched, his own erection straining against his boxers, as Sunghoon tentatively pushed the tip of his cock into M/n's waiting hole. M/n's breath hitched, his body tensing before he began to relax, allowing Sunghoon to slide in deeper.

Jay's eyes darkened with need as he stepped behind Sunghoon, his own erection demanding attention. He quickly shimmied out of his pants and boxers, revealing his hardened length. Without a word, he pushed into Sunghoon, who gasped at the sudden intrusion. Sunghoon's cock was still semi-hard, and the sensation of Jay's thickness entering him was a shock. But as Jay began to move, Sunghoon felt his body respond, his cock swelling back to life as he pushed into M/n.

The two of them started to move in sync, creating a rhythm that was both erotic and slightly uncomfortable in the cramped stall. Sunghoon's hands gripped the divider for support as Jay's hips slapped against his ass, driving him deeper into M/n. The sound of their muffled moans filled the small space, mixing with the rustle of clothing and the slick sounds of skin on skin.

M/n's eyes rolled back in his head as he felt Sunghoon's cock push into him, filling him in a way he hadn't experienced before. The mix of pleasure and pain was exhilarating, and he couldn't help but push back, urging Sunghoon to go deeper. Jay watched, his own desire building as he saw M/n's body react to the new sensation. He knew exactly what M/n needed, and he was eager to give it to him.

With each thrust, Sunghoon felt himself growing more accustomed to the sensation of being the one in control, the one to give pleasure. His own cock was hardening again, and he couldn't deny the excitement of having Jay's thick length inside him as he claimed M/n. The feeling was strange, but not unwelcome. It was like he was discovering a new part of himself, a part that was just as hungry for connection as the rest of him.

M/n's moans grew louder, his body shuddering with each powerful push. He reached back and grabbed onto Sunghoon's hips, pulling him closer, urging him to go harder. Sunghoon's hand found its way to M/n's cock, stroking him in time with their movements. The three of them were lost in the moment, their bodies moving together like they were made for this.

Sunghoon's grip tightened on the divider as Jay's pace grew more insistent. He could feel Jay's cock pounding into his ass, and the friction was driving him wild. He pushed into M/n with renewed vigor, his own climax building. M/n's cries grew more desperate, and Sunghoon knew he was close.

With a final, powerful thrust, M/n came, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. Sunghoon felt the warmth of M/n's release spill over his hand, and the sight of M/n's face, contorted with pleasure, was almost too much for him to handle. He came, his own cock pulsing inside M/n, filling him up as he buried his face in the crook of M/n's neck, biting down to muffle his own cries.

Jay watched, his own climax approaching rapidly. Cumming inside Sunghoon was an intoxicating thought, but he held back, wanting to savor the moment. He leaned in and whispered into Sunghoon's ear, "You're doing so good, baby." His voice was thick with lust, his breath hot against Sunghoon's skin.

Sunghoon's eyes met Jay's, and he felt a rush of emotion. He had never felt so wanted, so desired. He pushed back into Jay one last time, and Jay's cock slammed into his prostate, sending him over the edge. Jay groaned, his own orgasm ripping through him as he filled Sunghoon with his cum.

The three of them stood there, panting and trembling, their bodies still connected. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, a moment that seemed to stretch on forever. They were a tangle of limbs and desire, a secret no one else knew about.

M/n pulled away, panting heavily, his body spent and trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. Jay followed suit, his cock slipping out of Sunghoon with a wet pop. They both stepped back, giving Sunghoon a moment to process what had just happened. He looked between them, his eyes glazed with a mix of confusion and exhilaration.

"Was it good?" Jay asked, his voice hoarse from his own recent release. Sunghoon nodded, his cheeks still flushed. "It was… intense," he managed to say, his voice shaking slightly.

M/n straightened up, his own pants back in place, and handed Sunghoon a wad of toilet paper. "You did great," he said with a gentle smile, the air between them thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

Sunghoon took it, his hand shaking as he cleaned himself up. He couldn't believe what he had just done, but there was no denying the satisfaction that hummed through his body. He looked up at Jay and M/n, their expressions a mix of pleasure and anticipation. "I… I liked it," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jay stepped forward, wrapping an arm around Sunghoon's waist. "I knew you would," he said with a wink. "But remember, this stays between us."

[paradiseismine]

The First Time - Mike Wheeler x reader

Pairing: Mike Wheeler (Stranger Things) x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, soft smut, loss of virginity. also this is kinda long, but it needed to be, so I’m not sorry lol

Summary: Mike and reader are in love and have their first time together. (My girls who had awful first times, this one goes out to you!)

Love note from Nina: I haven’t seen any good first time fics for Mikey, which is ultimately a crime, so I wrote this one. I tried to make it softer and a bit more realistic, idk. Hope you like it! 💕

You and Mike had been dating for a few months now - ever since you moved to Hawkins. You had gotten close to Max and Eleven, at first, as you and the girls were in the same Gym class; but pretty soon, you won over the entire party. That’s something Mike loved about you: your easygoing personality, how easily you’d befriend basically everyone, how considerate and kind you always were.

He loved you, it was obvious. What was a bit less obvious, on the other hand, was how much he desired you, how much he craved your body on his, to feel your soft skin in his hands, to hear the faint moans you’d sometimes let out when he kissed the right spot on your neck.

All of this lead to this Saturday: you and Mike were alone at his place, up in his room, with the door locked and the lights slightly dimmed. He sat down on the bed and you climbed onto his lap, one leg to each side of his waist, eager for a good make out session - maybe even more than that.

The way Mike groped your breasts over your shirt was making you impossibly wet, and the way you straddled and ground on his lap was making him impossibly hard. The kisses were heated, sloppy, hands grabbing and groping into anything they could. It seemed pretty eminent that you two would end up, you know… Doing it.

- I’ve never - Mike started, panting. You could tell he was a bit embarrassed as he tried to look into your eyes, but quickly looked down. - You know, I’ve never done this with anyone… Before.

You smiled sweetly, lowering your head, also a bit embarrassed.

- Can I tell you a secret? - you went for his ear to whisper as he nodded. - Me neither. It’s my first time as well.

- Really? - Mike’s eyes widened in confusion. You were so goddamn pretty, you were a cheerleader, for heaven’s sake. How come you were still a virgin at 18?

- I just… I was kind of saving myself - you chuckled as you toyed with the collar of his Hellfire T-shirt. - For someone special, you know?

- A-and am I special enough? I mean, for you? - he asked, insecure.

- Mike - you put your hand gently on his cheek, capturing his gaze. - You’re the love of my life. Baby, you’re the one.

You could tell Mike had gotten a bit teary eyed as he leaned in to kiss you. It was a slow, delicate kiss, full of love and tenderness. You loved him so much, you had never fallen for anyone like you fell for that sweet nerdy boy.

You gently wiped a tear off his cheek, as you held his face gently to yours, deepening the kiss. His heart was beating like a drum as he reached for the hem of your T-shirt, feeling the soft skin of your waist underneath.

- Can-can I take this off, love? - he asked, nearly whispering.

You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed to feel his touch. Mike’s hands were always impossibly warm, so inviting. He roamed them agonizingly slowly up your sides, until you raised your arms to help him get the T-shirt up and off your body.

As the fabric finally fell on the floor, you could see that his eyes were low, enchanted by the sight of your chest, the sharp curve of your waist, your dainty collar bones, all of you. His red swollen lips, slightly parted, seemed to move nearly imperceptibly as his fingers touched your skin. It was like he couldn’t even believe you were real.

You put your hands on his hips slowly, also going for the hem of his T-shirt, lifting it up as your fingers felt his hot skin underneath. Once you both had exposed your upper bodies, you couldn’t resist to pull him closer and touch your chest to his.

Mike pulled air in between his teeth discreetly, getting shivers down his spine as you lightly grazed your nails against his back, embracing him.

His breathing was faintly audible as he embraced your waist, nuzzling your hair to inhale your sweet scent. You moaned softly as his lips nipped on your neck, eyes rolling in pleasure.

His hands roamed up and reached the clasp on your bra, struggling to open it, shaking a little with nervousness. You hugged him tighter, kissing his neck as well, trying to reassure him that it was ok, that you wanted him more than anything.

As he managed to take off your bra and discarded it, on the floor, your nipples grazed against his chest, your whole skin shivering at his own, so warm.

Mike cupped your breasts gently with his hands, trying not to scare you off, but mesmerized by how perfect your body was. He lowered his kisses from your neck to your chest, his lips softly touching your skin as he looked up into your eyes. That raw, desiring look made you bite your lip, moaning even more.

He kept his gaze on yours as he took your nipple in between his lips, suckling delighted at how soft your skin felt in his mouth. He did the same to the other one, his eyes closing for a moment and returning to meet yours. You held the back of his hair while he suckled, very discreetly pushing his head into your body, as if pleading for him to continue.

He had one hand attached to the breast he was suckling, and the other one on your waist, slipping slowly into the hem of your low rise jeans. As his lips let go of your now reddish and perky bud, he put both his hands to your hips, gesturing for you to stand up so he could unzip your pants.

You stood up and he soon followed, pulling your hips closer for another kiss, as his hands unzipped and lowered your jeans, that soon pooled at your feet. You did the same to him, his erection so evident during the whole process. Your mouth watered at the thought of taking his length in between your lips, pleasuring him. You wanted to pleasure him so bad, you wanted him to come undone under your touch, you wanted to drive him crazy.

Mike’s underwear was white and a bit transparent at this point, as his tip had oozed some precum - that made you lick your lips.

Your smooth fingers reached for his underwear’s waistband, as you shot your eyes at him for a moment, making sure you had his consent before slowly sliding the fabric off his body. His hard length sprung free in front of you for the first time, and you tried to suppress a small surprised sigh, to no success.

With both hands, you touched Mike’s throbbing shaft, gently pumping him even harder than he already was. He let out a soft moan, looking at your hands touching him.

- Can I… Can I put it, you know, in my mouth? - you asked, a bit embarrassed.

- Sure, love - he responded, lustful.

Your lips engulfed Mike’s tip, being extremely careful to avoid any teeth contact. You licked over its opening as it kept releasing more fluid. It was so good to finally taste him. Fitting his tip inside your mouth, you tried to take him deeper and understand how much further you could take. Mike, on the other hand, had other concerns in mind.

- Babe - he gently touched your face, gesturing for you to stop.

- Is everything ok? - you asked, worried. - Did I do anything wrong?

- You did nothing wrong, my love - he reassured you, his hand caressing your cheek. - It’s just that… I’m afraid I won’t last very long, you know? Being our first time and everything…

- It’s ok, we’ll do only what we both want, right? - you kissed him, trying to soothe his nerves.

The kiss got deeper and deeper, hands now able to explore practically all of both bodies - except for a small area around your hips. Mike took the sides of the fabric in his fingers, muttering something against your lips. You only moaned in return.

He slid your panties down your legs slowly, savoring the moment. You were now completely naked in front of him for the first time, and your body was just… Wow. You were so beautiful, he couldn’t believe you were his, and he was yours, and you’d now take each other’s virginity.

He motioned for you to lie down on his bed, and lied next to you, guiding your face for another round of kisses - up until his right hand started going south. He touched your breasts at first, thumbing your nipples until they perked up. He caressed your tummy and slowly made his way further down.

Mike’s finger touched your entrance very gently, feeling your warm wetness coat his fingertips. You shivered under his touch, thighs spreading instinctively, wanting more. His index finger slowly entered your tiny hole, and you could hear Mike faintly gasp, ‘cause you were so tight, only one of his fingers already seemed to fill you up completely.

- Is-is this ok? - he asked, speaking very softly. He didn’t want to hurt you.

- Yes, love - you moaned, nodding as your face scrunched up in pleasure.

Mike’s finger pumped in and out of your tiny hole, as he was watching it get wetter and wetter, splashy noises like music to his ears. Finally, he quit his teasing and touched your clit, tracing soothing delicate circles into your core, as you were aching with desire.

You mouth was agape, a trail of moans escaping your lips as your body squirmed and quivered under his touch. He was nearly hovering over you, as if not to miss any breath, any contortion of your beautiful face.

His fingers kept massaging your clit in a delicious motion, your tiny hole underneath clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled. Your arousal trickled down your folds and puddled on the bedsheets, as proof of that encounter.

Your breath quickened and your chest heaved, relief building rapidly at the pit of your stomach, and as you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, you came. Your orgasm ripped through your body as an earthquake to your thighs, a few louder moans echoing through the bedroom. It was like being a piece of paper and slowly falling to the ground, your head feeling so light in such a delicious sensation.

Mike couldn’t help but softly moan to himself at the sight of you. Now completely drenched in arousal and much more relaxed, it would be undeniably easier to put his length to your body without causing you much discomfort.

- You’re soaking wet… Please, make love to me, y/n - he whispered, his eyes rolling, his head dizzy with desire.

- I will, Mikey - you responded, capturing his lips once again, melting into his touch. - I’m yours, love.

He reached for a small silver wrapper in the drawer of his bedside table, quickly opening it with his fingertips and putting on the condom. Mike got on top of you, kissing your lips once again, delighting your body, your warmth, all of you. He aligned himself with your entrance, slowly gathering your lubrication on his tip before trying to enter you.

You searched for his eyes, nodding as you sighed in desire. Mike felt your hymen resisting his length, but gently pushed through it, eyes on you the entire time. You didn’t seem to be in pain - he only noticed your eyes were fluttering and your bottom lip was visibly bitten down.

He sank himself inside you very slowly, inch by inch, carefully studying each micro-expression on your face as he did. Your breathing seemed deep and paused, as if you were trying to remain calm. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest, and he wanted to be absolutely sure that you were well and feeling good.

- Are you ok, princess? - he softly asked, caressing your cheek. - Am I hurting you?

- It’s ok, love - you reassured him. - It just takes some adjusting.

You did feel some pressure, the sensation so new, your stomach so full of butterflies. But it didn’t hurt: Mike’s loving eyes were soothing any discomfort you could have been feeling, and that was all that mattered.

Growing accustomed to it, you felt more confident and involuntarily clenched around his length; and he started moving slowly, thrusting into you very gently, while his attention kept focused on your face. As you seemed fine, moaning very softly to show him you enjoyed those new sensations, he could finally focus on what he was feeling himself: you were so wet, so tight, the whole sight of your naked body so arousing.

He thrusted a bit more firmly now, but you could still sense some worry in his eyes.

- Don’t hold back - you whispered into his ear. - I love you, and I want you to feel all the pleasure you can, too.

His eyes met yours as you pulled him for another passionate kiss, your legs now around his waist, hugging his body. As he thrusted more and more, you took his earlobe in your teeth, nibbling devilishly on it, moaning sweet nothings into his ear. Not being able to contain himself anymore, Mike let out a few whimpers and spilled onto the condom, relieved.

He dropped his body’s weight onto yours for a moment, panting, gently hugging your sides. You kissed him on the lips one last time, smiling as you saw his damp bangs dangling from his forehead. Ugh, you loved Mike Wheeler. He quickly disposed of the condom in his room’s bin, and lied back in bed with you.

- I’m so sorry I couldn’t last longer, love - Mike kissed your temple, his eyebrows furrowed. - It’s just that… All of this was just so new to me, that I-

- You were perfect, Mikey - you whispered, kissing all over his face. - I’m so glad I had my first time with you. We’ll have plenty of time to get more comfortable with our intimacy, don’t worry.

- This was only the first step, right?

- Exactly - you smiled as he snuggled up to you.

- I love you, y/n - he said, holding you tight in his arms.

- I love you too, Mikey.

You cuddled together for another couple of hours, naked, enjoying each other’s warmth and touch. It all felt so right.

As the sun was setting, he took you home, and at your doorstep, you said your I love you’s and goodbyes now holding even more weight and complexity to them. You loved him so bad it nearly hurt.

The next day, the doorbell rang. You opened the door yourself, only to be handed a beautiful bouquet of flowers. The mailman didn’t say who they were from, and simply left. You could blame the butterflies still taking over your stomach, or maybe your recent slumber, but you had no idea who had sent you that gift until you read the card that came with it.

“Dear y/n,

Deflowering means to take one’s flower, and as we have just done that to each other, this seemed like an appropriate gift.

I know these physical flowers are fleeting, but the fact that we now have each other’s flowers is forever.

Thank you for taking my flower so gently and lovingly, I hope you felt the same about me taking yours. I’m crazy for you.

- Mike Wheeler, whose flower (and love) you’ll bear for the rest of your life.”

[awriternamedart]

"You've improved immensely."

"You kicked my ass."

Gepard just chuckled, helping Luka up off the ground with a slight grunt. The cold wasn't awful today, so without any matches today and the Wardance behind them, Luka had taken the first tram up to the surface to get some solid practice in. He had learned alot, and what better way to show it off then to his secondary teacher?

Only he found himself getting absolutely bodied. Despite all that new experience, he still was no match for Gepard— something only shown when it had taken barely a few blows to floor him. All without even breaking face.

"C'mon, Mr Gepard— when are ya gonna stop pullin your punches?! Y'know I can handle it!!" Snagging the offered waterbottle and downing a gulp, Luka rolled his neck and plopped down on his shirt- it had long since been discarded for their spars. Even in Belobogs eternal chill you still work up a sweat!! "I know that arm of yours has some sickass power!"

"…With all due respect, Luka, you haven't won a single spar today." Faint amusement danced in blue eyes as he stretched out his arms. Scar after scar was etched in skin, drawing Luka's eye. His flesh arm, his shoulders and torso— throughout their spars, Luka had gotten to see many marks of Gepard's countless victories in battle. "I'd rather have to never use this arm's full power in a spar."

And Luka just blinked, before turning to his own, fidgetting with it.

The uncharacteristic silence caught Gepard's attention— normally, Luka would go headfirst into insistentence that he could handle it, that it was a good challenge. But here, he sat quietly, slowly clenching and unclenching his fist.

"What's on your mind?"

"… a lot of the fighters at the Wardance said something pretty similar, yknow. About it being for honor, there being no need to go all out— stuff like that. So many amazing- well- warriors!" He cast his gaze to the sky, falling back on his hands as Gepard sat next to him, an elbow resting on his knee. "You said I had a lot to learn about victory, and you were right. Some people weren't there to win at all- they just wanted some publicity or somethin. Represent somethin, earn somethin- guess I wasn't all that different- but everyone had their own goal as their victory."

"It just got me thinkin- bout Master Oleg, bout you, bout Seele- I always say your holdin back on me, but when I was at the Wardance, I figured out why- you fought for somethin else. You all fight to live."

Luka's voice dropped a little, turning his eyes back to his hand. Shiny and freshly serviced- he could see his own eyes looking back at him. He could still remember the hallucinations, remember each contestent just like him, each one that was different! Even among all the hellish confusion, the wild happenings— the thrill of the fight had remained the same, yet it was all the more different.

"The Wardance spars- I was tryin to figure out what was different about them, yknow? It felt like everyone was holding back on me all of a sudden. I thought they were underestimatin me, or looking down on me, but- I think I get it now."

Eager determination flashed in Luka's eyes— an all to familiar sight to Gepard. He had seen many a similar look before, and even now it warmed his heart to see that Belobog remained unbroken. They were going to recover, he knew it well.

Luka yelped when a large hand landed on his head, tousling his hair. Gepard just laughed as he stood up and flexed his hands, turning around with one extended.

"Show me, then. Prove you've learned."

Luka's eyes sparkled as he clasped Gepard's hand in his own, letting himself get tugged to his feet. Maybe this round would be different, maybe it would be a repeat of his ass-whooping. But either way, Luka didn't care anymore.

He knew what victory was to him.

-

Victory's Pedestal - awriternamedart

this is tied to this fic here !!

[gyumazing]

Hi author-nim! I really liked your previous fic with Jungwon, the one where he was about to go out having love marks all over his neck. I liked how fluffy and calm it was and I was wondering if maybe u could write this situation I had in my mind ^^ Like, imagine you were sleeping soundly at night while hugging your pillow then you heard somebody grunting, but you didn't mind it at first. You hugged your pillow closer and tighter, but to your surprise, it was actually Jungwon you were hugging hfhfihfessi. Idk if u take requests but if you don't, just don't mind this ask hehe.

OMG MY FIRST ASK! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING THIS. YES, I DO TAKE REQUESTS.

-

Human Pillow

In the quiet stillness of the night, you heard a faint grunting sound, but your mind was caught in a dreamy haze. Seeking solace, you clutched your pillow closer, yearning for the warmth and comfort it could offer amidst the cold and lonely bed. Yet, to your surprise, you felt something amiss—a breath, almost gasping, buried deep in your neck, and a struggling sensation against your embrace. Your eyes fluttered open, and there he was—Jungwon, your beloved.

In a moment of realization, you immediately released your hold, concern etched across your face. "Won?" you uttered, your voice filled with confusion and worry. He gently tapped your head, trying to soothe you back to sleep, but the weight of the situation pulled you fully awake. You couldn't ignore the fact that the man you love, who had been sleeping on the couch for three days following an argument, was now lying beside you, breathless from your accidental grasp.

"No, I can't just go back to sleep," you whispered, your heart aching for the time lost between you both. "Won, I'm so sorry. I promise I'll try my best not to talk to Harua as much."

As you cupped his cheeks, you felt the warmth of his skin under your touch, and you could sense his silent nod, understanding the sincerity in your words. His eyes softened, reflecting the love he held for you, and he spoke gently, "No, Love. I'm sorry. I know Harua is your friend, and I shouldn't let jealousy get the best of me. From now on, I'll trust you completely, and I'll do my best to be the partner you deserve."

Jungwon's hand found its way to your waist, and his fingers interlocked with yours, his touch sending shivers of affection through your body. His other hand gently caressed your shoulder, creating a cocoon of warmth around you. It was as if he had become your protective blanket, enveloping you in love and care.

As the moonlight danced upon his features, he leaned in, brushing his lips tenderly against your forehead, leaving a trail of soft kisses. "I missed you," he whispered, the words dripping with sincerity and adoration.

"I missed you too," you murmured, feeling a lump in your throat. The distance between you both over those few days had been agonizing, and you vowed to cherish every moment with him from then on.

Throughout the night, you stayed wrapped in each other's arms, speaking softly. The room filled with an aura of tenderness and passion, as the love between you both flourished.

As you lay there wrapped in each other's arms, Jungwon couldn't help but chuckle softly. "You know, I always thought you were an enthusiastic hugger, but this was taking it to a whole new level," he teased, giving you a playful eyebrow raise.

You couldn't help but laugh too, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief that the tension between you both had turned into a light-hearted moment. "I guess I just missed you so much that I unconsciously tried to keep you close," you admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Well, note to self: never disturb your sleep when you're hugging your pillow again," Jungwon joked, and you playfully swatted his arm.

[galaxiadreams]

Say yes to Heaven.....(Zhongli x reader)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Word Count: 923

Synopsis: In the age of Gods and Monsters, Rex Lapis and Y/n, Goddess of Spring are brought together by the strings of fate.

a/n: This is a little prequel to my other Zhongli imagine: The final Blessing. Please go read it if you would like to! I apologize in advance if there's any grammatical errors! This fic is inspired by "Say yes to Heaven" by the one and only Lana Del Rey! Enjoy!

The goddess of spring. One who brings life, peace, and abundance to all of Teyvat. Y/n was somewhat of a minor god, but no less important, and just as strong as the major archons. She’s strong willed, fierce, and determined to bring prosper to her people. Yet her voice was melodic, her heavenly laughter could melt the coldest of hearts. It was her compassion, love, bravery, and intelligence that captured the heart of the Geo Archon. 

“Morax, staring is rude you know. If you really like her that much, go and interact with her.” The cloud retainer teased, sipping her tea watching the man sitting beside her. Moarx quickly averted his gaze from your running figure in the meadow with Guizhong and stared disapprovingly at the adeptus, a faint red painted on his cheeks. 

Morax sighed, “I don’t think I’ll ever have the courage to tell her my true feelings…” 

“Oh Celestia! You’re the Lord of Geo, God of contracts, why could you possibly be afraid of? Plus, I’ve the way y/n looks at you, I’m sure that girl is smitten too,” Cloud retainer reassured him before giving his shoulders a squeeze, “Go on, talk to her.” 

Morax stood up from the stone bench and wandered towards the meadow in front of him. The two women gave him a beaming wave as they noticed his approaching figure, your starry eyes gleaming in the sunlight. 

“Morax! Me and y/n are heading towards the lake to have a nice swim! Would you like to join us?” Guizhong asked. It’s true Rex Lapis once harbored feelings for the Goddess of Dust, but ever since the day he met you, his feelings for Guizhong melted away, the Archon’s soul was completed. Despite not knowing each other that long, the string of fate already entangled the two souls together completely, an unbreakable bond. Walking towards the two, Morax’s breath hitched when he felt your soft hands grasping his. Beaming at him, you dragged him towards the lake, he couldn’t help but admire your face as she sprinted towards Guizhong in front of them. Relishing simple mortal activities like this were difficult in an archon’s life, especially with hundreds of thousands of people to care for and lead. So Morax pays special attention to moments of enjoyment, memorizing every detail to reminiscence later on, peace never lasts forever. 

“Weeeeeeeeeee!” You let out shouts of glee as you jumped into the lake beside the waterfall, laughing as you resurfaced again. Morax jumped in after you, just to be tackled by the Goddess of spring. The two of you started to get handsy as both tried to win against the other fighting underwater. Laughter of joy and surprise echoed throughout the countryside. After a while, Morax relented and you won the battle. The two swimmed up to the surface and took a deep breath of fresh air. Morax couldn’t help but admire your beauty as water cascades down her face, the wet dress clung to your skin, and your eyes, ohhhhh those eyes. He has never seen a pair of eyes so mesmerizing and ethereal as your’s. Y/n’s eyes were the color of the galaxies, the reflection of the universe. Deep blues and purples balanced each other perfectly, with bursts of lighter shades dotted across your iris exactly like the stars in the night sky. 

“'Cause I've got my mind on you

I've got my mind on you”

Time stops. Both of you were entrenched by each other at this moment, unable to break from each other’s gaze of desire. You’re the half of his soul, and he was yours. Eyes are the windows to the soul, the poets say. And you spot nothing but love and admiration in those eyes of gold belonging to Morax. 

“Would you like to join me for tea later this afternoon? It’ll be a pleasure.” You blushed at the deep, rich tone of his voice. 

“Of course! I would love to!” Oh heavens, you’re in love.  

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

The little moments over the years brought the two of you together. His acts of chivalry and respect everytime made your heart ablaze. 

“If you dance I’ll dance.”

Falling in love with each other’s charms and flaws, it was a perfect match made by fate. Standing beneath the yellow ginkgo trees, the two of you signed the contract of your love and future. Saying yes to him was saying yes to heaven. Officially sealing the bond between the Goddess of spring and the Geo Archon. Husband and Wife, the two of you will lead your people to glory and prosperity, and nothing will change that.  

“If you go, I'll stay

You come back, I'll be right here

Like a barge at sea

In the storm, I stay clear"

No matter what will come in the following centuries, your heart and soul belong to him, and his belongs to you. No war or famine can separate the two of you. No matter what trials and tribulations blocked your way, he was your pillar of stone. No matter how much pain or anger he’s in, your voice will heal his soul. Your love for each other ran deeper than contracts, deeper than lovers. No matter what happens, the two of you will find each other. Be it in the afterlife or in the next life, the unbreakable string of fate will always tug the two souls together. 

“I've got my eye on you

I've got my eye on you

Say yes to Heaven

Say yes to me”

[crxssjae]

Proudest Man in the World

Summary:

Kind-hearted. A champion. The lover of Jey Uso. His life transformed in the best moments, to be proud.

a/n: This is post-WrestleMania 40. Took place after Jey won against Jimmy (imagine they have the best brother vs brother match ever) and Sami won the Intercontinental Championship title against Gunther. If y'all see any errors, 🤫, I make mistakes too.

Also posted on AO3 (here) and Wattpad (here). These belong to my samijey/jeysami short and long stories collection called "All Night."

Other WWE fics and samijey/jeysami fics are posted on my WWE masterlist here.

Word Count: 1,333

Warning(s): 18+ only (minors DNI), NSFW, smut content, explicit language

__________

The night thickened and intoxicating air arose inside the dim hotel room, along with the sounds of Sami's hushed breathing.

Faint, half-lidded glint with crave, gazed into Jey's eyes, full attention. Legs encircled Jey's waist tight while their bodies pressed together under the blankets. Rush of hotness crawled in, blocking the remains of the cold.

A thousand times until now; Sami is cherished over a win he will never forget.

Intercontinental Championship.

The belt draped over the chair; moonshine illuminated its sparkle like a recognized, rare, rich in gold. If any man hadn't made the task known back in the day, its name would have crumbled. Much gratitude to the former longest reigning champion, Gunther, everyone has seen the title as important written before each vision.

WrestleMania in Philadelphia. Roars and screams of supportive cheers rediscover Sami's mind from ear to ear. Some clouded uncertainty hit Sami like a freight train at first, questioning if he could win the championship. Time went on, receiving encouragement from coworkers— hell— even Gunther himself last week, gave Sami his all through body and soul. He did it.

Jey came into the picture. He never forgets him. Neither his words.

"I gotchu."

"I've got yo' back. Don't be an ass, 'kay?"

"Love you, baby."

His lips curled in a satisfied smile. Peace is what Sami received. He was supposed to satisfy Jey since he won against Jimmy, given a standing ovation. Though instead, Jey mirrored the same emotion both had.

"Whatchu smilin' for?" Jey's voice teased yet cheerful in wonder.

Sami hummed, his arms wrapped around Jey's neck. "Don't know. I guess it's you, always spoiled me till the end."

"S'my job. Y'can't get rid of me dat easily." Jey nuzzled his nose against Sami's beard, eliciting a giggle from Sami. "If someone's datin’ me this long, I can't be gone forever."

"You've told me a thousand times to make me happy."

"Good. And I'll keep sayin' it all day."

Sami hadn't grinned this long. This is good for his sake. Jey's words affected his heart, stronger in support of a boyfriend from the known family bloodline, being fallen in love.

Their gaze locked. An inch of Jey's dick covered in a condom twitched inside Sami's heat, slicked entrance. Fulfilled, melted, lust. Sami's fingers threaded Jey's hair; Jey began strokes of lazy, careful thrusts.

Sami shuddered, nails digging into Jey's tatted back urged himself to be still. He knew he couldn't, he didn't give a damn. Anything Jey does craving more, giving any touch of feeling, swelled to each reaction.

The difference between home and hotel rooms was some short intimate moments; being interrupted by a friend, someone calling their phone, having a quickie before going on a morning routine, or leaving to arrive on the travel schedule. Inside an expensive hotel building in Philadelphia, however, silence stood outside.

No friends or family to check on them. No one knocked. They're alone.

"M'so fuckin' proud of you." Jey buried his face into the crook of Sami's neck, breath tingled his skin, hips bucking. "You— oh fuck— you deserve every inch of this, of me. M'proud y'won all dat effort."

"Mmm, I'm proud of you, too. You deserve—" Sami let out a gasp— "you deserve so much praise a-after you and Jimmy did out there. So perfect, so good, so good, so good—"

Slow trails of kisses showered on Sami's neck. Jey smiled to himself, at the praise he had given to Sami while caring. "Shh, focus on you, not me."

Being penetrated shook Sami's core; his mind became foggy, devoured with sweet hunger. His eyes were heavy, nothing to do but stare at the ceiling. Jey's warmth is too good, too good for Sami to claw his fingers with fresh scratches on the back, erupted a low growl from Jey. Sami admitted he'd apologize for doing so, but Jey didn't mind.

Focus on himself, not him. Sami almost let emotions get the best a few seconds ago. He would hate himself if he broke a sob during sex, it'll be a concern. One time, the emotional part of him poured out in front of Jey before being embraced and comforted. Sami would tell his boyfriend about it later, too.

Loud, passionate wails escaped Sami's mouth; Jey's hips bucked in an instant yet deeper as the bed rocked and squeaked. Sami pecked Jey's shoulder, to the neck, to the jawline of the beard. Husky whispers from Jey reaching ear to ear, sending a shiver down Sami's spine.

He loved this.

Jey lifted his head, glimpsing into Sami's glinted eyes full of allure. "Look at you, goddamn amazin' as hell wit' dat face, baby." He showered quick smooches on his forehead. "Y'deserve everythin'."

"Keep going, Jey, please keep going..." Sami whispered in a needy tone. He does his best to keep eye contact.

Jey gripped Sami's hips and snapped his pace, quickening. Slid in, then out, focused on not breaking the condom. Sami felt Jey's lips graze his ear, hearing the same tone of whisper once more while eyelids fluttered close. A tingle of sensation ignited Sami's stomach; it peaked closer.

"I'm… I'm about to— fuck, fuck, fuck, please, please, Jey—!"

Sami's mouth hung open, letting out a breathless sound; shockwaves rippled through his body as cum ejaculated on the belly and chest. Since Jey wore a condom, sparing the spill, his pulse still lingered inside. Good thing it's a reminder a couple of times protection is needed.

Slumped, boneless, full of bliss, sweat glistening. Both men are relieved. Sami peeked, narrowed his eyes at Jey's hand splayed on his chest while the other steadied the dick to pull out. He observed Jey, unwrapping the filled condom, and tying it before tossing it in the trash can.

"You should've gone to the party without me," Sami murmured after a few seconds of creeping silence between them. Fingers hovered and traced random patterns over Jey's tatted arm, then chest. "You deserve your celebration with them and Jimmy without me."

"N'let you be empty-handed in this room without a present?" Jey questioned with a mock perplexed look. "Naw, I gotta make you, a champ, happy wit' a big ass smile. Dat's our celebration."

All those hours from earlier, a party inside the bar miles away from them was held after Cody won against Roman for the Undisputed Championship. There's a choice for Jey whether or not he's going alongside Jimmy, Kevin, and others— let themselves receive joy with drinks and dances. He ditched at the last minute— for Sami, because he can't let someone be alone with a small amount of gifts, never had a chance to give a deserving one.

Jey is supposed to drink with friends, be joking, dance along, and be rewarded for all the effort he put into the brother versus brother match. However, he didn't bother. He cared about Sami the most; the others understood.

Sami sat up, scooting closer. "Does… does Kev know? Jimmy? Roman?" he asked.

Jey nodded. "They did. They just gave me the look and let me go ahead. But Ludwig wants me to tell you dat yo' Brainbuster," he cleared his throat, rolling his eyes, "is exquisite."

"Sounds like him." Sami chuckled, and pecked Jey's lips, whispering, "Guess I need to pull more tricks up my sleeves and surprise you."

"Like pullin' 'em tricks at the shower?"

"Oh god, no!"

Both couldn't help erupting their laughter ringing across the room, soft kissing and embracing in each other's arms. Everything became soundless again before Jey led Sami to the bathroom, being playful along the way. Two days in a row had been the best, even though the chilliness bothered them sometimes, for their respective WrestleMania matches to be successful. Would be best to be warm rather than complain.

Sami's chances were a fluke before the big stage. Now gripping the known championship in one hand, those chances are greater, transforming and changing the man he is—

A champion with a proud heart.

__________

Thank you for reading!

Tagging: @southerngirl41, @coolpandasblog, *@bbkquartz, @rosiel77, *@katiewayne2020, @afterdarkprincess, *@invictusrey, @wrestlingprincess80, @harmshake, @empressdede

If your username is in bold with an asterisk, it means Tumblr won't let me tag you.

Taglist for samijey/jeysami shippers those who wanted to be tagged for my future fics of samijey-> here

[elusivewildflower]

I Want You to Stay | Luke Glanton x Reader

Pairing: Luke Glanton x F! Reader

Summary: The carnival is back in town, and you’re hoping to capture Handsome Luke’s attention just like last year. After all, the news you have to share might be enough to keep him around for more than a few days.

Warnings: Not much, it's generally pretty sweet and fluffy. If you've seen the movie, think kind of how it went with Romina & Luke, except Romina would actually want him to know his son and be around.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: It's been forever (again) since I've written something. But this idea has been sitting in my drafts for months. Somehow, I perfectly managed to get the word 'Stay' in Navy and Roo's @the-slumberparty One-Word Warm-Up, and immediately knew which fic to work on. I know it was supposed to be a drabble for the warm-up, but this totally went longer than that.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest as you grew closer to the sound of motorbikes revving their engines. The carnival surged around you, children screaming with delight, people laughing and cheering as they won a game, and even the faint sound of a live band playing in the distance reached your ears. It had been a year since this particular carnival was in town, setting up shop the last weekend in September, and it was opening night. You were late, which is why you were currently hustling your way through the crowds to reach your destination. Work had been way too busy to leave early, let alone on time. 

As you made your way into the tent, your nose scrunched up from the smell of exhaust. It was never your favorite, but you had your reasons for enduring the stench and the aggravatingly loud sound of dirt bikes in an enclosed area. Making your way towards a seat, your eyes caught a glimpse of the reason and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. His bleached blond hair was hidden beneath a helmet, but that red leather jacket gave him away. Handsome Luke and the Heartthrobs. Well, you only cared about Handsome Luke. 

You managed to get his autograph last year, and let’s just say that the two of you hit it off quite well. He may have only been around for three days, but you spent each and every hour that you possibly could together. Most of those hours were spent in your bed – but you held no regrets for that. It was, however, the exact reason you were here. Sure, at the end of the weekend, the two of you decided it was just a fling and you’d move on, but he never once called or texted. The phone may work both ways, but what you had to tell him, you didn’t feel comfortable speaking over the phone. Hell, you didn’t even feel comfortable telling him in person a year later, but you knew you had to. You owed him that much. 

When the show was over, you sat patiently as the audience slowly dispersed from the tent. He hadn’t seen you yet, but you knew he would. As if he could sense your presence, his attention turned towards you after saying goodbye to his mates. An unlit cigarette hung from his lips as he closed the distance between you. Just as he was about to reach you, a group of kids called out his stage name, holding up various items that they wanted him to sign. He glanced back and forth between you and them. 

“I gotta sign some autographs. Will you stick around?” He rasped out, a hopeful expression upon his face. 

His gruff voice seemed like music to your ears after not hearing it for so long. It brought back memories of all of the things he used to whisper to you. The memory and his presence simultaneously calmed and made you feel anxious. You opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t find your voice. You suddenly felt hot, like a blush was creeping up your cheeks and your hands were growing sweaty. You settled for nodding, and pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. 

He took that for an answer and turned on his heel to appease the young children with his autograph. Honestly, you liked watching him with the kids. He was always good at putting on a show, answering any questions they had and devoting his attention to them for a short time. A soft smile pulled at your lips as you hoped he’d react positively to the news you had for him. It didn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach, but you supposed for a moment they were there for  a different reason. 

Luke made his way back over to you, eyeing you up and down. “Are you free tonight?” 

You bit down on your bottom lip as you nodded. “Yeah, I’m free.” 

A smile graced his tattooed face. “Good. You wanna go for a walk?” 

You hesitated for a moment. “Uh, actually, can we go somewhere private? To talk?” 

Luke’s brows pulled together slightly, but he nodded. “Yeah, of course. Follow me.” He gestured towards the entrance to the tent with his head, moving in that direction a second later. 

He made sure that you were walking in step with him as he made his way to the employee’s designated smoking area. There wasn’t anyone around at the moment – and you assumed that was either because not many employees smoked, or they were all too busy working. Luke took a seat on the bench and patted the spot next to him before lighting up the cigarette that was still hung from his lips. When you sat next to him, he rested his hand on your bare thigh. 

“So, how have you been?” He questioned, taking a drag from his cigarette before blowing the smoke in the opposite direction of you. 

“Good. How about you?” You asked right back. You hated this small talk, but you were still trying to work up the nerve to say what you needed to. 

Luke gave a nod of his head, taking another pull from his cigarette. “Good.” He replied. 

The two of you sat in silence for a moment as he smoked. 

“So, you wanted to talk?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, I, uh, need to tell you something.” God, this was so much harder than you thought it would be. Your heart was beating so fast, it felt as if it would give out at any moment.

Luke gazed at you expectantly, a brow raised. 

“Luke, when you left, I found out that I….” You trailed off, the words dying in your throat. 

His warm hand squeezed your thigh gently, coaxing you to continue. “That you….?” 

You sucked in a breath of air, your eyes locked with his. “I was pregnant.” 

There was silence once again as Luke processed your words. You watched as he blinked a few times, completely stunned by this revelation. He took a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke he blew out of the corner of his mouth a second later billowed around him. 

“You were pregnant?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper. 

You nodded, releasing a heavy sigh. “Yeah,” you paused for a moment, watching for his reaction.  “Luke, you have a son.” 

Luke nodded to himself, his eyes breaking away from yours as he glanced around timidly, pulling another drag from his cigarette. “Where is he?”

“He’s here, with a friend.” You turned to look in the direction you had left your best friend and son prior to entering the tent, even though you couldn’t see them from where you sat. “The bikes would’ve been too loud for him, he’s only three months old.” You explained, bringing your attention back to Luke. 

Luke’s eyes met yours once more. “Can…Can I meet him?” His question was spoken just as softly as the last few, as if he were nervous. 

Your heart swelled in your chest, a bright smile spreading across your face. “Of course.”

Luke stubbed his cigarette as you moved to stand, and he followed suit. The two of you wordlessly make your way through the crowds, nerves radiating from each of you, until you spot the familiar head of your best friend, holding your son in her arms. She was crouched down, pointing towards a goat in the petting zoo. 

You call out her name as the two of you grow closer, gaining her attention. She raises to her full height, shifting your son onto her hip as she spins to greet you. Her eyes land upon Luke and a small smile spreads across her face. 

“I see you managed to find him.” 

You chuckled softly, reaching to take your son from her arms as he noticed your presence. He was already reaching for you before you could even introduce him to Luke. “That I did.” You responded cheekily. 

As you turned towards Luke, your best friend stepped away to give you some space. “Luke, this is your son, Noah.” You spoke softly, watching as he gazed at Noah in awe. 

Noah was playing with your hair, thankfully gently at the moment, and glancing all around. That is, until Luke spoke and drew his attention. 

“Can I hold him?” He asked, rubbing his hands together a few times before wiping them off on his pants. He probably had motor oil and God knows what else on his hands from the show. None of that bothered you, though. 

“Yeah, of course,” you replied without hesitation. 

Now that Luke had Noah’s attention, he was making grabby hands at him. Luke chuckled softly in response and carefully took him into his arms. Noah had always been a baby that loved to be held, but there was something about seeing him in Luke’s arms that made you feel complete. You wondered if somehow Noah knew who Luke was to him, because the way that he looked up at Luke seemed significant. His chunky little hand reached up and patted Luke’s cheek, then poked at the dagger he had tattooed under his eye, babbling nonsense all the while. 

The two of you laughed as your infant continued to explore his father. He was reaching for all of the tattoos he could see on Luke’s skin, and tugging at the collar of his red leather jacket. They were all such new experiences to Noah, but his excitement was palpable. You glanced around for a quick moment, noticing that the crowds were beginning to die down. 

“Do you want to walk around for a bit with him before we have to leave?” You asked, drawing Luke’s attention from Noah. 

He glanced around at the dispersing crowds for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, let’s go for a walk.” 

As you walked around the carnival, passing by the games, food trucks, and the tent where Luke performs, neither of you spoke. Noah was the only one babbling and making noises as he saw new things to be excited about. However, as the carnival entrance was in sight, Luke was the one to break the silence. 

“Has it been difficult?” He asked quietly. 

“Hmm?” You questioned, your head turning to look at him. You were too busy lost in your own thoughts to know what he meant by his question. 

“Raising him on your own, has it been hard?” He explained, asking his question in a different manner. 

You nibbled on your bottom lip as you mulled that over, eventually nodding. “A bit, yeah.” You then shrugged. “But my mom helps babysit when she can.” 

Luke nodded, his expression thoughtful as silence fell between you once more. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it was clear that neither of you quite knew what to say. You’ve had three months to acclimate to having a son, and nine months that he grew in your belly to prepare. Luke, on the other hand, did not. You knew it came as a shock to him, to say the least. 

Noah stayed in Luke’s arms until the three of you reached your car in the parking lot. That was when Luke gave him back and watched as you buckled him up properly in the backseat. He leaned against the car as you leaned against the open door, staring at each other for several moments. It seemed like neither of you would find the right words to speak, until Luke’s eyes finally left yours and drifted towards your son. 

“I don’t know what to do.” He admitted weakly. 

Your brows furrowed as you followed his gaze. “What do you mean?” 

Luke licked his lips and raked a hand through his hair. “I leave in two days. I won’t be back until next year.” He paused, shaking his head. “I don’t know what to do.” 

When your eyes meet once again, you can see the confliction clear as day on his face. 

Nervousness stirs in the pit of your stomach again as you open your mouth to speak. “You could…stay?” 

Luke seemed confused by your suggestion. “Stay?” 

You nod your head slowly, glancing towards your son who had begun to doze off in his carseat. “Yeah. You could stay here and help me raise Noah.” You explained. 

“You really want me to stay?” Luke questions, drawing your attention back to him. His expression is a bit unreadable, but his tone conveys his disbelief that you would want him to be in Noah’s life —  in your life. 

A warm smile spreads across your face. “Yeah, I do.” 

The corner of Luke’s lips turn upwards for a quick moment as he looks between you and Noah. “I’ll stay then.” He confirms confidently, taking a step closer to you. His hand reaches up to cradle your jaw, his blue eyes gazing into yours for a moment before he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. 

As the two of you part, a smirk pulls at the corner of your mouth. “Don’t think that I’m just forgiving you for not calling or texting, though.” You tease, feeling far removed from the annoyance you once held for that slight. After-all, you reminded yourself once more, the phone does work both ways. 

Luke chuckled slightly, leaning in to capture your lips in another kiss. This time, your lips pressed against each other more passionately, your arms wrapping around his neck and his around your waist. It was several long moments before he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. 

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”  

[the-tripping-and-the-touching]

Bloom

Pairing: Josh x Reader

Warnings: cheesy in love stuff

Word Count: 1596

Summary: You and your boyfriend spend the morning in bed.

Note: Welcome to my first little fic! It's the first published in a series of one shots based off of songs that remind me of Josh. Hope you guys enjoy <3

Sunlight always seemed to follow Josh around. It would light up his shoulders at the beach and highlight his hands in the car, drawing your eyes to whatever jewelry he’d decided to sport on that given day. This morning, it fell lightly on his cheeks, their rosiness exemplified by the soft rays that made their way through your curtains. 

His breath was slow and even as you turned your head to him, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Careful not to wake him just yet, you readjusted to fully face him, drinking up the details of his sleeping form as if you’d never have the pleasure again. You knew in your heart that you would have him like this, for the rest of your lives, but for now he’d been so busy in the studio that you rarely had the chance to really admire him before you woke up. 

You’d always thought it unfair how long his eyelashes were, but at that moment you couldn’t complain if you tried, watching as they fluttered a soft warning that he was about to wake up. His lips opened wider and then shut as his jaw flexed, getting ready for a day of talking. When his eyes finally revealed themselves, they looked like pools of honey, the depth enough to drown in from just one glance. 

“Have you been watching me sleep?” A sleepy smile found its way to his mouth as he reached up to play with your hair. “Because if so I’d probably have to report you for stalking.” His eyes closed again as the words fell out, sticky like syrup.

“Yeah let me just grab my manager for you real quick.” You couldn’t help but laugh at him before pressing a kiss right between his eyebrows, finding the skin warmed from the sun exposure. When you moved to get up, a hand grabbed hold of your waist and pulled you back in towards him. “Josh…” He cut your complaint short by placing the same hand on your jaw and pulling you in for a kiss. 

“You don’t have to commit to that bit love, I saw where it was going.” His thumb stroked your cheekbone as he looked up at you in a way you could only call enamored before moving his hand back down to your hip.

“The only bit I’m interested in is the bit of coffee I’m going to go make for us.” But you found that his grip on you remained firm, a bit impressive for the sleepy state he was still in, as you tried to get up again. You attempted to frown at him, but you could tell it came off as more of a defeated smile. He grinned up at you with the knowledge that he’d won, but still decided to offer an explanation for his unwillingness to let anyone get out of bed. 

“We get to wake up slow today. There’s no rush.” Confusion spread across your features for a few moments before he realized he still needed to clarify, “I have the day off. Sam decided he wanted to fuck off to the woods somewhere, so we all just decided to skip work and take a break. Now lay back down.” 

You rolled your eyes, but still followed his direction. As your head hit your pillow you couldn’t help but notice how your entire bed smelled like him. The woody sage scent was faint, a stranger likely couldn’t even notice it, but after spending so much of your life with him you’d be able to pick it out of even the largest of lineups. It was like a drug to you, the way you felt when your lungs filled up with the fragrance, and it left you in a bit of a daze as Josh pulled you even closer. You hummed as the smell became even stronger and threatened to send you right back to sleep. 

“I’ve been writing this song-”

“You’re always writing songs. It’s like half of your job.” You interjected as your eyes slipped shut involuntarily, the warmth of the sun and softness of the sheets lulling you back to rest already. 

“Okay. Like I was saying, I’ve been writing this song, and I’m having trouble with one of the verses.” When your eyes reopened they were met with his, the shade slightly darker since the sun had shifted. You nodded at him to continue, which he did after taking a moment to mull over the way he wanted to present it. “So I have most of it figured out, but I keep trying to fit in this line and I just can’t seem to find a rhyme for it. It goes ‘Loving you brings the world to a lull’, and I really think it’s good but nothing matches it.”

The way he smiled after saying it gave you a feeling you couldn’t shake, but it couldn’t stop the suggestions from spilling out. “Full, skull, mull, dull. Dull sounds like the best option, but I’d really have to know what the song is actually abou-” You stopped yourself abruptly when you realized. 

When you and Josh had first started dating, it was hard for you to understand just how much you loved him. So, you decided to write him a letter, one that you had no intention of ever sending, just to get the words down. It took an entire afternoon to write due to the way every line brought a memory forward, each of which your mind chose to play in its entirety. Once it was finished you’d sealed it in an envelope addressed to him and everything, but it had lived in your sock drawer since then, never seeing the light of day. That was until a week ago, when you reorganized. It hit you that you’d taken it out, but forgot to put it back in. After leaving it on his bedside table. 

It wasn’t a masterpiece, just a way to express yourself until you could actually say it all out loud. Though you never really did say those exact words, since you’d forgotten everything you’d written the moment the glue was dry on the envelope. “You found the letter,” is what you eventually opted to choke out, your brain working a million miles a second and at a snail’s pace at the same exact time. “You found it and didn’t tell me?”

He flopped onto his back and rested his head on top of his hands. “I was trying to determine whether or not you meant to give it to me. Y’know, since it was dated all that time back.” He chanced a look at you, a move you could only meet with a huffy laugh. 

“I hadn’t meant to.” You thought for a moment about your intentions, then went on, “But I’m glad you read it. And that you thought it was really good. If I’m being honest, I couldn’t remember what I actually said until you gave that line to me.” Sweet smiles echoed between the two of you as you moved to lay on your elbow, your face right above his. 

Your free hand’s knuckles brushed against his cheek, flushed once again, before kissing him. It was slow, yet deliberate in every sense of the word. His lips were always soft and cushioned, sometimes sweet depending on the chapstick he chose to use that day. That morning they, or rather he, tasted like the mint from the previous night’s toothpaste. It seemed improbable that it would linger that long, but you ignored the logistics in favor of savoring the moment. 

He slowly moved his hands from behind his head, never once breaking contact, and adjusted until both of you were on your sides. One of his hands found its way to your waist, laying itself just inside the hem of your shirt, his fingers flexing into the soft skin. It felt like time had stopped as you laid there next to him in your bed, your hand snaking up to the nape of his neck in order to feel your way across his scalp. The curls wound around your fingers as they moved up and then back down again, his hair just as warm as the rest of him. 

When you finally pulled away, the sun was no longer shining directly through your windows, though you found that Josh’s blush remained intact. “Come on, the entire world has to be out of bed by now.”

“Except you aren’t.” Your brow knotted as you tried to decipher exactly what he meant. He laughed to himself before explaining, “You’re my entire world,” he planted a kiss on your left cheek, “and you’re not out of bed yet,” and another on your right, “so the entire world couldn’t possibly be out of bed by now.” He finished it off by kissing you again, chaste and quick. 

“That is so cheesy.” Yet you couldn’t help but smile widely as you shook your head. More often than not he could be one of the most eloquent people you’d ever met, but the mornings were definitely an exception to the norm. “But I guess your entire world could spare a few more minutes.”

“Good.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, his hand landing firmly on your back. You grew tired again as his scent renewed itself. Dozing off was the only option at that point, but you caught him say one last thing before you both fell asleep, limbs tangled together.  “All I ever want to be is close to you.”

Note: Thank you for reading! If you have a song you'd like to suggest or would like to be added to my tag list lmk!

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Night Nurse

A John Wick x Helen Fic

When nurse Helen Morgan is caught in the crossfire of a shootout and aids the injured John Wick, she’s faced with two options: serve the High Table, or be executed as a Witness. She tells herself her choice to work at the Continental has everything to do with survival, and excellent pay, and *not* her growing feelings for the Tall, Dark, and Handsome Assassin™ who got her into this mess in the first place, thank you very much.

I.

John didn’t take the subway often, but with the Mustang in the shop after an unfortunate incident involving a mark, a concrete pole, and the ‘Stang’s door—two out of three survived—his machine was in Aurelio’s capable hands, and John Wick was on foot.

It was a chain of events that might have caused him to send a thank you to the unfortunate Serbian—if the man hadn’t been, you know, dead. Because it was the cause and effect that eventually led to John laying eyes on her for the first time. Dressed in rose-pink nurse’s scrubs, her thick auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail, clearly exhausted from a twelve-hour shift—she’d looked up at him over the top of her book, and the shine in her amber-brown eyes took his breath away.

Her choice of reading material had been…interesting. Crime and Punishment by Dostoyevsky. A solid classic, to be sure, but so god-damned depressing.

John never made small talk with strangers. So when the words, “Some light reading for the evening commute?” spilled from his mouth completely without his permission, it was like watching himself from outside his own body.

She’d lowered her book a fraction to offer him a tired smile. She was beautiful, and he was sure that strangers tried to chat her up on the subway all the time. Way to be that guy, he chided himself, hanging on the possibility all the while that this exquisite creature might deign to let him hear her voice just once.

It had been a long week, but really? Maybe he was going soft in his old age. He wasn’t actually old, to be sure. He’d be thirty-nine in a few months. For an assassin though?

Practically ancient.

She’d turned the book to glance at the cover. It was a well-worn paperback edition with a dour looking painting of a man in a doorway. She wrinkled her nose, and it was fucking adorable. “I’m trying to read more classics,” she admitted.

“How is that going?”

He didn’t know where he got the cheek to tease this total stranger about her reading selection. Maybe it was the fact that she was actually reading a paper book, over endlessly scrolling through an electronic device. Maybe he was a book snob—ok, he was a book snob—but paper, in his opinion, was the proper way to go.

Kindle readers just smelled like plastic and the sadness of modern convenience.

“Okay. It’s good, but this Raskolnikov is fainting a lot.”

“That’s Russians for you,” said John, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. He’d certainly seen a few when he approached. Lots of fleeing and yelling, too.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled at a stranger.  

“Oh really?” She lifted her eyebrows, laughing a little. Those eyes sparkled with mirth, glittering like good liquor in a sunbeam, and his heart ached as though clenched by a fist.

“Yeah.”

She shook her head, her book resting in her lap. He’d won her attention—and to be honest, he wasn’t really sure what to do with it after coming this far.

“Are you…Ukrainian or something?” He felt her looking him up and down. He liked it, when she looked at him. He always dressed well, but for once he was glad for it for some other reason besides the tactical armor sewn into the lining of his bespoke suit jacket.

“Belarussian,” he found himself admitting to this woman without a thought.

It had been a lifetime, since he’d admitted that to anyone.

She was good. She’d make an incredible operative, he found himself thinking. If she’d asked for his address or his social security number, (fake as it was), he might have given that up too.

“Wow. I never would have guessed.”

No one did. He’d worked hard to lose his accent, so he could slip through society unnoticed when he needed to. First for the Ruska Roma, then for himself.

“I’ve been here a while,” he admitted quietly, looking down, suddenly feeling as though he’d shared much too much with this woman who was kind enough to speak to a stranger on the subway. The fuck do you think you’re doing, Wick?

“Well…I’m from Boston. It’s not nearly as interesting, but I feel like a foreigner here sometimes.”

John looked up at her then, a lock of hair fallen over his eyes. “I never would have guessed,” he parroted in perfect deadpan, and it won him a smile that utterly melted his black little heart. He felt his mouth doing that alien thing again—smiling. A small one, to be sure, but it was definitely more exercise for those muscles than they’d received in a year. Years, maybe. A lifetime?

“Gee, thanks. I’m Helen, by the way.”

She extended her hand, and he could not stop himself from clasping that small mitt in his own. She felt delicate in his grasp. Breakable. He hated that that was the first thing he assessed when shaking someone’s hand. He couldn’t turn it off.  

“John.”

She raised an eyebrow, that sparkle back in her eyes.

“John from Belarus, huh?”

Fuck him, but was he actually blushing?  

“Most people trip over Jardani.”

And there it was. The most truth he’d told anyone about himself since he was a wet-behind-the-ears young man.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

“What a shame. It has a nice ring to it. Jardani.”

The sound of his true name on her lips did things to him that he knew he didn’t entirely understand. An additional side effect: it seemed he couldn’t let her go. A long moment passed between them—what felt like an infinity—of heavy eye contact with her hand in his. It set off fireworks in his heart, and finally he released her as though he’d been burned.

“Sorry.”

She canted her head, that thick russet ponytail flipping over her shoulder. He wanted to run his hands through it, and in that moment he knew he must be losing his mind.

“Don’t be.”

The train slowed, and reluctantly she stood from her seat, steadying herself with her hand on the pole he also grasped like a lifeline. “This is my stop.” He nodded, feeling like an idiot, not entirely sure why, or what had just happened, really. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You too. Helen. From Boston.”

She smiled again, and if he could have bottled the feeling it called up in him, he would have synthesized the most addictive street drug on the planet.

“Don’t hold it against me,” she threw over her shoulder as she made her way with the crowd for the doors, the glitter in her eyes hitting him like a punch to the gut.

He could think of several things he would have liked to hold against her, none of which were acceptable to mention in polite company. So he simply held up his hand in a silent wave, feeling as though he’d lost something precious as the doors slid closed, and the train carried him away from the one truly good thing he’d found in this city

What came next bordered on questionable behavior, John knew.

The next week—because he at least had that much self-control left—he found himself riding the subway again, at the exact same time as before, reasoning that she might regularly get off a seven o’clock shift at the hospital nearby, and catch this train, to go home somewhere in Brooklyn.

He had not followed her home. Not even to satisfy his later curiosity, wondering if like a total lovestruck idiot he’d revealed a piece of his mysterious past to an undercover operative working for some secret—no doubt nefarious—goal.

Another week went by, before he happened upon her again. She was reading a different book this time. Moby Dick. Not bad, considering what a goddam brick was Crime and Punishment. She was a fast reader. He wasn’t sure why that titillated him so fucking much.

He didn’t approach her this time. He did have self-control. He did. He did! Even though he immediately conjured the perfect opening line. Call me Ismael. He simply stood in nearly the same place as last time, one hand on the pole, the other scrolling through nothing on his phone, while secretly stealing glances her way.

Fuck, but she was stunning. That thick hair pulled back made her neck miles long, and her profile could have inspired the Renaissance sculptors of Italy to weep. Even in those shapeless lavender scrubs, he could see that she was tall, and fit, but curved in the most heartbreaking places. John appreciated feminine beauty, certainly, but it was rare that he felt such a visceral reaction to a woman’s charms. It was as though just the sight of her triggered something long buried in his heart, something that had been sleeping all along, waiting.

Either that, or he was, at long last, going off the deep end.  

Engrossed in her reading, she did not notice him until the crowd shifted and she stood for her stop, her face lighting up with a smile when her eyes met his. She held her hand up in a wave, but did not pause in her mission to get off the train and go home. He couldn’t blame her, even when a part of him wanted to follow.  

God, but the feat of self-control it took, not to follow.

Pathetic.

It didn’t stop him from making it a habit, long after he got the Mustang back from Aurelio.

Sometimes, when he won the odds of picking just the right train and just the right car (she seemed to prefer the second to last, and the train schedule wasn’t always reliable), they would exchange a few sentences about books, or the weather. He hung on her every word, even though she usually teased him the entire conversation. No one spoke to him like that, he realized. No one in his world dared. It was as refreshing as it was jarring, and like a junkie needing a fix he just found himself craving more.

Other times, he would play it cool, and pretend to work on email on his phone after offering a reserved smile or a raised hand in hello.

She always had a book, and he determined that she was probably relieved on the evenings when he didn’t bother her. Yet, the next time he won the odds of picking the right train, she came over to him, steadying herself with her hand below his on the pole.

He was achingly aware of how close their hands rested on that metal rod. She cradled a new book under her arm. A red paperback, with a shadowed outline of a woman behind a V. He could just make out the title over her arm. Codename Villanelle. Noticing where his attention was fixed, she looked up at him with a sly little grin, and he knew he was in for it.

He could hardly wait.

“Bet you thought I was pretty brainy before. But the truth is I’m hopelessly addicted to spy novels. Assassins, intrigue, exotic locales?” She gave an exaggerated shiver with an insouciant grin. “I’m trash for it.”

John felt his mouth doing that strange thing it did around her, the corners turning up, his eyebrows raising. So, she liked assassins, did she? If only she knew.

“No judgement here. Is it good?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty entertaining so far. Smart, too. And I like reading about exotic locales I'll probably never get to visit. Paris, Rome, London…”

John canted his head, fixing her with that stare that she’d begun to think could see right through her. “What makes you so certain about that?”

Helen shrugged and waved down at her scrubs with a lifted eyebrow. He fought very hard not to follow the exact motion of her hand with his eyes, the way he did when he was pretending his attention lay elsewhere. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to infer from the gesture though. A lack of money working as a nurse? Lack of time off?

Whatever her perceived barriers, he had to bite his tongue, heading off on the urge to offer to take her to those places, and anywhere else she might like to go while they were at it.  

“Anyway.” She nodded down at the book. “No fainting Russians in this one. They’re pretty tough.”

John had watched one do just that due to blood loss just the other night, but decided it would be best not to mention it.

“I think you might be the last woman on the planet reading paper books.” 

“I prefer paper,” she admits. “Plus, when you're engrossed in your paper book, no one is going to snatch it.” 

“That happened to you?”

“Yeah, I lost a Kindle that way a couple years ago. The guy was probably disappointed it wasn’t an iPad, but still.”

John frowned, looking around like the offending thief might be on the train at that very moment. She rewarded him with an appreciative, if not knowing little smile. “Now it's paperbacks for me.” Her eyebrow lifted, the way he had come to anticipate with almost child-like enjoyment. It made him feel like she was letting him in on a secret.

It made him feel like they were almost…friends.

“It makes it hard to read raunchy romance novels in public though,” she confessed. “Their covers are so ridiculous.”

John found himself cracking a smile at that—a wide one this time, even going so far as to show teeth, just for a second. 

“50 Shades is a heavy tome to lug around.”

She wrinkled her nose.

“I have better taste than that, at least. I prefer some history with my romance.”

“Like, time traveling nurse in eighteenth century Scotland, history?” he teased, certain he’d overheard such a thing being the next popular craze the last time he’d been in a bookshop.

“You know, I wanted to like those books, they're beautifully written, but Gabaldon lost me in the first one with that dash of glorified spousal abuse. I just couldn't get past it.”

John’s expression pulled in a frown. “I didn't know. I'm surprised they're so popular.”

"I guess it never hurts that there's a TV show." She lifted an eyebrow, like they were in on a joke about books that were turned into movies. It was adorable. Everything she fucking did was adorable, and every passing minute John felt himself falling deeper and deeper under her spell. He found himself imagining a life in which they did have inside jokes, and laughed about them together by just sharing a secret look from across the room.

Could he be so lucky.  

She moved a fraction closer, presumably so that she could hear better. Yet with his arm up on the pole, it almost gave the illusion that she was standing within the shelter of his body. He liked that, maybe a little too much.  

“We keep talking about me. What kind of books do you like to read?”

He lowered his head down closer to her, drawn like a moth to the flame.

“You're going to think I'm a book snob.” 

“Oh no. You only read classics?” He was eighty percent sure she was teasing him.

“Yeah, mostly. And...”

What was it about this woman that made him want to bare his soul to her? To tell her every little private thing?

“And, what?” she goaded. “Come on, you can't leave me hanging now.”

“I bind books,” he admitted. “It’s...a hobby.” He didn’t know why he felt ridiculous admitting that. Like he was a fraud, pretending to have a pastime like a real, normal, human being.

“Wow. That's amazing.”

It wasn’t the response he expected. The light in her eyes filled him with a spreading warmth. It was utterly addicting, this feeling she inspired in him.

“I enjoy it.”

“So are you an artist? Do you make the pages, or do you repair old manuscripts?”

It was an astute question, and he felt himself warming to her even more.

“Repair, mostly. I pick things up at auction, or rare bookstores, that just need...to be put back together again.”

He didn’t really want to think about the psychological implications of a man who had been torn to pieces more than once, taking solace in repairing something that would outlast him, with any luck.

She looked up at him with a gentleness in her polished mahogany eyes that twisted his insides.

“I can understand that.”

“You're a nurse?” He realized that he’d assumed, but she’d never actually told him as much.

“An RN, actually. In the emergency room at NewYork-Presbyterian.”

“You must be great under pressure.” 

“I guess. I just...like helping people who have had a bit of bad luck. I feel like...we're putting the universe to rights again, in some little way.” The weight of John’s stare maybe caused her to add, “Wow, that sounds conceited.”

He shook his head, unable to form words around the pesky lump that had formed in his throat. He spent his life sowing chaos across the globe, snuffing out lives, while this lovely woman saved them. A chill settled in his bones, as he realized that this should be the last time he spoke to her, for her own sake.

He had no right to contaminate her light with the shadow of his presence.

The thought of never seeing her again made a sickly tremor run from his heart to his limbs, his grip white-knuckling on the pole. He realized she was waiting for an answer. That was how conversations worked. Someone said something, then you were supposed to say something back. Finally he managed to get out something true: “I think you're amazing.” 

“Ok.” She raised an eyebrow, searching his face, and he felt like she could see straight through him too. “It would be more convincing if you didn't frown when you said it.”

Again, she was teasing him. Kind of.  

He sighed, wanting to bang his head on the metal pole. “I mean...it’s not you. It’s…”

Me. 

I'm a monster. The Baba Yaga. The Boogeyman. The Thing That Goes Bump In The Night.

She waited patiently, looking so earnestly up at him that he could have cried. He could neither even fathom where to begin to tell her the truth of his thoughts, or bring himself to offer a lie when she looked at him like that. He was acutely aware of the seconds ticking down of their ride. Soon, they might never see each other again.

“How about this,” she inserted into the silence between them, seemingly throwing out a lifeline. “You could tell me about it over dinner. There's a great Thai place just down the street from my stop.”

Was she asking him in a date? Or did she just think the seemingly harmless nut job she'd befriended on the train needed someone to talk to? He hoped she didn't pick up strays so readily, for her own safety, but he already knew she had a bigger heart than most. 

“I—”

John couldn't say what exactly tipped him off. A change in the air. The specific angle of an arm in the crowd reaching for a gun. The look in the man's eyes at the end of the car behind Helen.  The years and years of hard-won experience. But he knew he had a split second to make a choice. Save himself and eliminate the shooter—or save her and take some damage.

He did not think before reacting. Not really. He grabbed her and spun, shielding her with his larger body and his armor-tailored suit. He felt at least three bullets strike him in the back before he lost count. Jesus fucking christ that hurt.

“Stay down,” he ordered, tucking her behind a row of seats, and whipping off his jacket to cover her. Stupid, maybe, to give up that advantage, but if something happened to her he wasn’t sure he wanted to survive.

He really was getting tired of this shit. 

While the attacker reloaded John sprang, knocking the gun away just as the new clip slid home. The man drew a knife, making a quick swipe that grazed Johns ribs. He slashed twice more, both times John barely skipped out of reach. The third time John blocked and twisted the man's arm, trying to break it. The attacker had training though, and he wormed away. They grappled, exchanging strikes. John couldn't go for his gun, both hands occupied with keeping that knife out of his body. He failed a little, the tip of the blade sinking into the flesh of his shoulder. Through gritted teeth John backed him off with a head butt and a kick. He found the attacker’s gun had skittered off under the seat, just in reach. As the attacker reared to throw the knife John shot him with a single round through the head.

By this time most of the passengers had retreated to the adjoining cars, screaming. But Helen remained, and rather than run for safety she rushed to his side, assessing the damage. “Oh my god, John!”

He groaned as she applied pressure to the wound in his shoulder. “I have a first aid kit in my backpack. But we have got to get you to the hospital.” 

“No time. No hospital,” he found himself insisting through gritted teeth. The train slowed to a stop. The doors whooshed open. They had to go. John pushed to his feet, taking one last disdainful look at his attacker’s corpse before exiting. 

By some stroke of luck, The Continental wasn't far from that stop, though in the shape he was in, it could have been in Mongolia. When he stumbled Helen was there, supporting him with his uninjured arm around her shoulders. She was stronger than he imagined, and even in the middle of all the chaos he couldn’t stop himself from adding it to the list of things that made this woman endlessly attractive to him.

“Where do you think you're going?” she demanded. “Wait for the paramedics. It was clearly self-defense! I’ll tell them.” 

People were seeing the body in the train car, and despite some people’s morbid efforts to film the carnage, pandemonium was breaking loose. They had to ride the wave of the crowd to the surface without getting trampled.  

“Can’t,” he managed to get out. “You...should go.” It killed him to say it aloud. 

“Are you kidding? I'm not leaving you!”

He didn't have the time or the energy to fight with her. Never mind that his black heart rejoiced with a full-out aria to hear her say those words as they spilled out on the street. He would try again closer to the Continental. It was just a block away. 

When an ambulance and police car raced past with sirens blazing he felt Helen tense, and knew she meant to flag them down. He tightened his grip on her, even though it hurt like a sonofabitch, turning them so that they partially hid behind a news stand. He could feel the heat of a fresh surge of blood seeping beneath his shirt.

She looked up at him with those beautiful, bright brown eyes held wide. Lost, confused, but somehow, not afraid. This woman did have a nerve of steel. “John?”

She was a smart woman. She was putting two and two together. A man who’d killed his attacker on the subway and was avoiding official assistance probably had a few more things of his own to hide.

“It’s ok, Helen.” He couldn’t believe how much he wanted to kiss her right then, with her body tucked up against his in their dark little nook on the street. “But you really should go now.”

Again, she shook her head, and he sighed. He could see the Continental in the distance, that distinctive sharp corner jutting out, a beacon of hope for creatures of the Underworld like him. He could feel his body going cold with blood loss. He needed to get to Doc, and sanctuary, and hopefully find out what the fuck that shit on the subway had been about.

But then again, he mused, as they started walking again, maybe he was the one going soft. Keeping a regular routine like he’d been doing the past month—or was it two?—made a man like him quite the target.

He knew better. He’d known better all along, but…he hadn’t cared. He’d come this far—survived this long—purely as an act of defiance, as anything. Defiance of those who took him when he was just a child, and who had moulded him into the killer he was today for their own ends. Made him their servant, practically their slave. At last, he almost had freedom, or the closest one could get to it, in this life. He looked to the worried woman at his side, and wondered if this would be the stunt that brought him too close to the sun.

As they scaled the steps of the Continental Helen looked upon the opulent portal with a frown. “You want to go to a fancy hotel over a hospital?”

He paused at the front door, leaning against the frame. Hopefully, not leaving a bloodstain the staff would have to clean up. He tried to be a considerate guest. It was one of the many reasons they liked him here. He wasn’t sure he could quite say that Charon and Winston were his friends—but they weren’t his enemies. That went a long way in their world.

“There’s a doctor here I know,” he assured her. “I’ll be fine.” Maybe it was the blood loss, or maybe just the exquisite agony of her standing so near, even if just to keep pressure on the wound at his shoulder. Even after a long day at the hospital, she smelled sweet, like honey and healing herbs. He would remember her for the rest of his life, short as it may prove, with aching fondness. He felt emboldened to cup the side of her face in his large hand, taking what he was sure would be his last opportunity to look into those brilliant caramel-colored eyes. “You need to go,” he told her quietly. “You don’t belong in my world.”

It hurt worse than getting stabbed, saying those words.

Rather than obey this, what he certainly thought was, an ominous but heartfelt warning, she frowned, heat flaring in her eyes like sparking embers. She was angry, he realized, and it was ridiculous how it made his heart—and things lower—flutter. Bookish Helen chatting on the subway was adorable. Angry Nurse Helen was fucking hot.

“You idiot. I’m not leaving you until I know you’re in good hands. Come on, then.”

She caught him up with the force of a hurricane, practically dragging him inside the building, and she probably would have started barking orders to bring a doctor to the well-dressed and dangerous-eyed patrons milling in the lobby, had Charon not materialized before them with an expression of polite concern. “Mr. Wick. It appears you are out of sorts.”

“Yes, I’ve had an accident. Can I get a room, and the services of the good Doc?”

“Certainly.” Charon, bless him, already had a key in his hand. “And your…companion?”

Helen stood in this opulent lobby in her pink scrubs with little daisies printed on the shirt with a spine of steel and her chin lifted like a lioness, daring the concierge to tell her she couldn’t be there.

“I vouch for her,” sighed John, knowing that the consequences of those four little words weighed heavier than Helen could possibly know.

“Very well, sir. Please, follow me.”

CHAPTER II. A03

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

A little Ian x Reader fic based on my tumblr beloved @threadsun's Ian's dad au

Reader is amab and is referred to as daddy

You can't believe you're doing this. You've always liked Ian but you can't tell how much of this night is being pushed along by your heart and how much Jean's strings are pulling you by the dick. Either way there's no backing out now, not when Ian looks so beautiful underneath you, his gaze hazy and fuck drunk from a simple heated make out session. Though, how simple could you really call it when both of you are straining against your pants

You can't help but stare at his bulge, christ, your friend was hung this whole fuckin time? "I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't, I-I mean I liked it, fuck I loved it, but we don't have to, you don't have to-hha!" Your hand gently grazes his thigh as you ask him what he wants "I...you, I-I want you, please, please fuck me, I'll be-be good just please, I need your cock" You can't help the little shock you feel as you hear him, with how clumsy he usually is with his words you never expected him to be so good at begging

He's so desperate for your dick, how could you ever say no? You help him out of his clothes and he helps you with yours before grabbing a bottle of lube from his nightstand. You can't help but smile, leaving his bitch mom really has been good for him, even the sight of a lube container would have made the Ian you knew in high school faint. You slowly work him up to two fingers, scissoring them to open him up just a little further, making sure to try and hit his prostate with every thrust

He's so cute like this, bucking his ass down on your fingers, trying to push you even deeper "Fuck~ Please, more daddy" Ian freezes as soon as it slips out, eyes wide and already filling with tears at his mistake "Sorry, oh god I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to, I-" He's cut off by you replacing your fingers with the head of your cock brushing against him. You tell him not to worry, telling him that if he's going to call you that he might as well scream it

Ian nods frantically, his hips already bucking down to try and force you to take him "Yes, yes I will, I'll be your good little whore, please, fuck me daddy!" You just can't help it, you slam into him, making him take your whole length at once. It was too much for him, Ian lets out a beautiful scream as he cums all over your stomachs. After a second he whimpers "Why-why'd you stop?" You ask him if he want you to continue, the question seems to surprise him "I...yes, yes I want to. I want daddy's cum, please"

Your first time together is desperate, and passionate, and filled with love. After helping him wash up you both snuggle back into bed, his head resting softly against your chest. You look up from him to the door of his bedroom and you feel your heart crash down into your stomach. You see Jean peering in through the crack of the door, holding a single finger to his lips as he smiles at you. And in that moment you both know what this means, you can't leave either of them now, and Jean has won

[tears-of-burden]

CÓLONIÉLË

AU/Canon Divergence Friendly - RULES

Follow From: @eunoiaastralwings

Other RP Blogs: @luthriel-tinuviel | @quiet-flower-wonderlings | @illicit-unknown-shadows | @son-of-the-moon-and-sun

Non-Tolkien: @shadow-hazehuntress | @spider-lily-droplets

Feel free to reach out – with an idea of your own

FICS/Artworks:

Heartbroken Niélë | Niélë | Niélë

Epesse: Cóloniélë

                      q. Tears of Burden

Sindarin:  Pelineldes

                      s. Fading Star Woman

Reason: Given to her by the Sindar when she is in middle earth as she a star (referring to the light in her) ready to fade away. 

Nicknames: Niélë

Home: House of Nienna (Far western Valinor, near Mandos)

Race: Maia

Ethnicity: Ainur

APPEARANCE:

Height: 7′2

Build: Lean and silm

Hair Color: Black, with highlights of golden brown

Hair Style: Left long or small bun on the top of her head, down to her waist. 

Eye Color: Deep brown

Eye Shape: Almond

Skin: Fair

Hands: Thin, long fingers, squoval nails

Scars: None

Types of Clothing: simple silky gowns - usually darker colors than pastel or light.

Usual Accessories: Long earings

Feet Appearance: Usually in flats in Valinor - boots in Middle Earth

Mannerisms: Nods her head a lot when talking - biting nails when nervous or anxious.

ABOUT:

Alignment: Lawful Good

Occupation: Mental Healer

Canon Love Interest: Nerdanel

RP Love Interests:

Multiship: Yes

Sexuality: Panromantic Demisexual

Likes: Art, reading, painting, romance plays, music

Dislikes: Fëanor’s oath and the pain and sickness it brought.

Fears: Melkor. Nerdanel fading

Favorite Colors: darker richer colors.

Literature: Anything with happy endings.

Hobbies: healing, reading, painting.

Favorite Memory: Meeting Nerdanel.

PERSONALITY:

What words or phrases do they over use: “Let me heal your mind. . .” or “I shall take the pain. . .for I must.”

Are they more optimistic or pessimistic: Pessimistic after Nerdanel marries Fëanor and all that followed

Love Language: Acts of service, quality time, words of affirmation and physical touch.

Strongest Character Trait: Her mental healing abilities.

Weakest Character Trait: Refusing to treat her own health.

Greatest Fear: Melkor winning and Nerdanel fading.

Overrated Virtue: Temperance.

If they could change one thing about themselves: Not to change - but really whatever she does not have that Nerdanel saw in Fëanor.

What Haunts Them: The constant fear of Nerdanel fading.

Smell: Vanilla

Songs: Can I be Him by James Arthur, I'll Be Waiting by Cian Ducrot

OTHER NOTES:

Cóloniélë is maia of Nienna - Nienna and Cóloniélë are almost close as mother and daughter. She has the ablity to heal people mentally. She touches them and heals them mentally - helps them get over their fear or stress and guilt. But it inflicts on her - she feels their pain and it flows through like liquid fire in her veins - she cries and screams the worse they are - or faints if she cannot take it.

Niélë used to be lively and happy - her most precious memory is meeting Nerdanel, she was the happiest then and slowly fell in love with the daughter of Mahtan too.

She never liked Fëanor - or how close he was trying to get to Nerdanel.

But just as when she was about to confess her feelings, Fëanor had won Nerdanel’s heart - it had completely shattered her, especially when they decided to get married at their young age. Niélë had to watch Nerdenel get married and never be able to have her heart - as elves only loved once. Nienna tried her best to comfort her, but what can soothe a broken heart?

Niélë is devasted and hates Fëanor completely when he takes the oath with their sons- leaving Nerdanel heartbroken and left behind – she tries to comfort her while keeping her feelings hidden – she never reveals not wanting to burden her. Plus – since elves only love once, so Niélë will never have her chance. . .

Niélë travels to middle earth sometimes to give comfort as ordered by Nienna - when she returns Nerdanel asks her about her sons and unfortunately, Niélë never has good news for her until the time Maedhros and Maglor had taken in the Peredhil twins.

[ineffablefool]

AO3 First Lines

Both @ineffable-doll and @flameraven tagged me for this, and I think that is wonderful.  Thank you for thinking of me even though I haven’t had anything new to post for a while!  As for re-tagging, I’m a rebel and don’t generally do that, but if you follow me and are a fic writer and want to play along then I would love to be tagged in your post.  Yes, this means you, the person saying “oh but he doesn’t mean me”!  I don’t care that you write for a book I’ve never heard of or a show I’ve never watched.  This kinda post can reveal patterns, and patterns are neat.

Rules: post the first lines of your 10 most recently published ao3 stories (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics).  

Mine are all Ineffable Walnuts because hi my name is Jack and I have a hyperfixation.

Significant Hand Touches (G)

Crowley’s hand twitched almost violently in his. Just once.

Then it squeezed, firm and steady, before relaxing against his own. Comfortably. Slim fingers slotted between Aziraphale’s fat ones, as though they belonged there, just so.

He smiled at Crowley in the sickly light of the bus fluorescents. If Crowley noticed, he gave no sign.

Sorry (Not Sorry) (T)

“Hello, Aziraphale,” said a warm, unforgettable voice, and for a moment Aziraphale was seventeen again, hands shaking to the rhythm of his heart.

He turned around.  “Crowley,” he breathed.

Fighting A Duck For My Pants And Winning (T)

This is not how Crowley wants the angel to see his pants.

Find Out How Much Love The World Can Hold (T)

“So I have successfully tempted you, right?  Not going to come pick you up for dinner, and instead get roped into helping you unpack a bunch of new old books?”

Aziraphale clicked his tongue and hoped the telephone would make him sound disapproving rather than endlessly fond.  “That was only the one time,” he said, “and it certainly taught me a lesson about asking you to help.”

“Exactly,” Crowley said easily.  “Demon.  Inherently unhelpful.  Pick you up at nine, then?”

Win Condition (G)

By third period on February 14th, there were girls with paper hearts strung along their arms like bracelets, and boys with stacks of them spilling from their notebooks.  Aziraphale, of course, was one of those who had won nothing at all.

Tender (adjective, verb, noun) (G)

“Now come on,” Adam said, “‘s only an hour and nineteen minutes till Wensleydale has to go home.”

The Them tumbled back outside as though they’d never quarreled.  Aziraphale had come to know them fairly well since moving to Tadfield; like any children, they had their occasional disagreements, but this time had been more contentious than most.  For a moment he’d halfway feared it might come to blows.  Once he’d led them to a diplomatic solution, however, they seemed to forget the entire thing.

Dappled And Drowsy (G)

Crowley woke curled into a little ball near the edge of the bed.  The room was filled with thin gray light, enough to suggest that it was probably about time to get up.  Not that there was anywhere to be today, really.  Day off from work, no schedule to keep.  Nothing pressing at all.  Still...

He cracked an eyelid.  Eugh.  Twelve minutes until the alarm was set to go off.  Bollocks to that.  He reached out into the cold air, thumbed the button to the off position, and half-dozed for about eleven minutes and forty-five seconds.

ineffablefool writes some Antonio Penn poetry (G)

Uhh.  Well, this is a poem (entitled “Icarus Had It Easy”) + a ficlet of Aziraphale’s reaction to the poem, so the first poem lines are

I am no dove, high-flying, Rising up to gain the Heavens. Some bird more stygian, perhaps.  Some graceless carrion-eater.

and then the first prose lines are

Crowley can tell something’s up as soon as he comes into the sitting room.  Aziraphale is reading, same as usual, but there’s a dangerously soft smile on his lips, and it’s not a book in his lap but a yellowing pamphlet.  The faded ink on the cover is almost faint enough to let Crowley pretend he doesn’t know exactly what it is.

An angel ruminates on change (G)

It’s amazing how different this lunch is from all the others they’ve shared, and yet it’s just as amazing how much it’s exactly the same.   They weren’t supposed to have this, were they?  There shouldn’t even have been a Ritz anymore.

But here it is, and here they are, each the constant of the other’s life.  Nothing has changed.

Love Languages (T)

The first time Crowley saw the new QAer, his first thought was Tartan?

I feel like my beginning lines are very Crowley-centric.

[crow-talks-hockey]

Old Enough to Understand - a Sid fic from his POV

Sid the Kid they called him. Only, he wasn’t that kid anymore, and maybe he never had been. Sidney Crosby had been renowned for years, maybe his entire life, but he didn’t see it that way. He never had. Hell, Sid didn’t think he deserved the praise at all. He’d understood his talent for a long time, he’d been forced to at a young age. He’d had to get used to the swarms of reporters and agents that all wanted even a small piece to play in what they said would be his legacy of a career. One thing he’d never understood, however, was why it was just about him. 

So many people had been absolutely essential in their back-to-back runs. Geno had been an absolute monster, Kris had been amazing, and… Flower. God, Sid missed him. People had come and gone through the years, it was another thing that any player had to get used to. Yet, out of everyone, Sid missed Marc-Andre Fleury most. In all honesty, he just missed it all. He’d been scrolling through old photos, his house dead silent except for the faint chirping of crickets. He’d come across old memories in his albums of those glory years. He’d been so young then. Sid thought back to lifting that cup for the first time, then the second, then the third… it all felt so long ago. 

Sid came across a photo from 2016, it was blurry— almost vintage looking— and it was of him and Flower. They were side by side, still out on that same ice they won on, grinning like idiots. Flower was looking into the camera, holding up his index finger and Sid was turned to him, face crumpled with apparent and unhinged joy. Sid hesitated over the picture, thumb hovering over the screen as he debated scrolling past. To think that they could have played their entire careers together. It was all different now. Sid still had no friends on the ice, but off-ice… he had to admit that he missed being able to just drive to the goaltender’s house and chat. Sid looked up from where he was sitting alone on his couch, taking a deep breath in. He rubbed at the corners of his eyes absently, unaware of the small sadness that had crept into his soul and closed its hand around his heart.

“Gaaah,” Sid sighed quietly and stood. He was getting old.

He wandered aimlessly into his kitchen, staring blankly into his fridge as the light buzzed. Sid closed his eyes and shut the doors. He moved to the counter and leaned against it, elbows on the marble as he pulled out his phone and moved to his contacts. The glow of the screen was bright in the dark, and the soft noise of his phone’s ringtone sounded. Sid moved the phone to his ear as he searched distractedly through his cupboards for something to eat. He smiled as the call picked up.

 “Hey, Flower… uh, how— how are you?” Sid began, barely restraining his smile of relief and love for an old friend. “Yeah, yeah that’s good… Oh, I’m alright.”

A moment passed as the now Minnesota Wild goaltender asked another question.

“Why’d I call? I don’t know… I was just missing a friend I guess. I was—” Sid rubbed the back of his neck nervously, messing with the short, ebony-black hairs at the base of  his skull— “ I was looking through a bunch of old photos actually and I came across that one of you and me in 2016. I’ll have to send it to you.”

Fleury's laughter sounded from the other end. “I bet we looked like idiots.”

“We did,” Sid agreed and put Fleury on speaker as he found the picture again and sent it to the tender. “I just sent it to you.”

A few brief moments of silence passed before Fleury exclaimed, “Geez… we were so young. I never realized how scrappy your facial hair was—”

“Oh shut up,” Sid retorted, “like yours was any better.”

Fleury audibly sighed, “Got me there. But seriously, can you believe that was over five years ago? That’s crazy.”

Sid scoffed. Tell me about it, he thought. Their— his team was barely the same anymore. It still felt like he was that young kid, but so much time had passed. Him and Geno were veterans for the Penguins now. They’d won three Stanley Cups together, and in that time two captains had replaced his title of youngest NHL captain. In that time, Sid had become friends with an old enemy. In that time Sid had found more success than he deserved, and more friends than he could have ever hoped for. It’d taken him far too long to realize how much it all meant to him. 

“Sid?” Fleury’s voice snapped him back to reality.

Oh yeah, Sid realized, still on call… “Hey, I, uh— I gotta go. I have… plans,” he stammered.

“Of course, Sid. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Have a good night.”

Sid said his farewell and quickly hung up. He knew that Fleury was probably aware he was lying, given that they’d been friends for so long, but he’d needed a quick way to end the conversation before he started feeling dimly sad again. Sid put his head down on the marble counter. After several quiet moments he swiftly strode out of his kitchen, snatching his keys off the counter and slamming his house door shut. He needed some air. A run would feel nice, especially in the crisp Pittsburgh weather. 

So, Sid ran, Airpods securely in, music blaring. Maybe a hoodie and shorts wasn’t the best fit to be running in, but he didn’t care. He let the music take him, let the thudding of his shoes on the concrete distantly match the beat. He moved away the hazy nostalgia that clouded him, and grounded himself to the moment. Soon, the ache in his chest had gone and almost as if it knew, his playlist got quieter, slower. Calmer. Sid came to a halt at one of the lampposts, and he frantically pulled out his phone, pulling up Spotify. He froze as the words sunk in.

“Soon I hope,  or as soon as I’m old enough

Old enough to understand

Old enough to understand…”

The night was so, so silent. Sid clicked off his phone and slid it into his pocket. He looked up to the sky, gazing at the few stars that were visible. He glanced at his watch, the screen came up and Sid’s brows rose slightly in amusement. He’d run a lot further than he’d thought… though, that often seemed to be his case. 

So maybe it was time he stopped looking back, and maybe it was time he started moving on. Maybe then he could really appreciate these moments, and those ones from so long ago, and all the ones that were still to come. If Sid moved on he could embrace it all. The afternoon cafe chats with Flower, the stupid jokes he and Geno shared, the respect he and Kris had, and the strange friendship that had bloomed between him and a certain competitive Av named Nate. And yes, even the rivalry he’d experienced with Ovechkin or the years he’d been plagued with injury. All of it. The song faded away into quiet, but just like chapters of a book or years in a life, it continued forward to something new. Sid was ready to do just the same.