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thebluemallet · 4 months ago

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EARLY Predictions for Bridgerton Season 4

BENEDICT IS OFFICIALLY CONFIRMED TO BE THE LEAD FOR SEASON 4!

I've had this in my drafts for a couple of weeks. But now that Benophie is officially happening next season, I have some EARLY predictions for the next season. I'll have more predictions when we finally have a clip or a trailer, but for now I'm gonna cast a wide net for what I think will happen in season 4.

1- MASQUERADE!

They really name-dropped that masquerade ball like Tahani Al-Jamil name drops her celebrity friends. And they mentioned it in the promo with Luke T. The masquerade ball is happening! My guess is it'll happen somewhere in the first two episodes of season 4. This will be where Benedict meets his Cinderella/mysterious Lady In Silver/Sophie Beckett.

The code name for season 4 is supposed to be Vauxhall, where we saw Daphne and Simon launch their fake dating plot in season 1. That was a public ball, which means that anybody who could pay the fee could get into it. Perhaps we'll return there for the masquerade ball. Makes much more sense for Sophie to be able to crash that instead of a private ball at the Bridgerton house.

Let's just hope her carriage doesn't turn into a pumpkin before she can make her escape.

2- A Possible Time Jump

In Benedict's book, he meets Sophie at the masquerade, she runs away at midnight, and then he doesn't see her again for another two years. I think a time jump could happen again. Specifically for a few of my upcoming predictions.

Also, it would add to the drama.

Can you imagine the reaction from the fans with the screen fades to black and then some text fades in that reads TWO YEARS LATER?

3- Kate and Anthony Might Not Make An Appearance Next Season

Possibly an unpopular opinion, but I almost dont know why they bothered with having Kate and Anthony in season 3. It seemed like it boiled down to "We're here! We're hot! We're horny! And we're fucking off now! Bye!"

At least when Daphne showed up in Anthony's season she helped drive the plot forward and tried to help guide her brother on the bumpy road to matrimony. Anthony had one half-assed conversation with Colin about his engagement to Penelope. Kate did most of the heavy-lifting when it came to important talks with the family. She did most of the talking to Colin the night before his wedding to Penelope. (Not that it mattered because all of her work was undone the moment Charlotte showed up to the wedding.)

Kate also gets credit for speaking with Eloise to try and smooth things over between her and Colin. And then they left their family for a third time to go all the way to India, a journey that's going to take them six months one way.

But with a time jump, that would give enough time for Anthony and Kate to go to India, have their baby, spend some time there, and then make the long journey back to be present after the time jump with a toddler.

(With how pregnant Kate was looking at the wedding, I would not be surprised if she gave birth at sea. She and Anthony did not think that plan through at all. And why the hell did they leave without attending Francesca's wedding??? And when the Queen was certain that a Bridgerton was behind Lady Whistledown???)

Anthony and Kate being absent would also be a convenient way to keep the Bridgerton House set around for a little while longer.

Anyway, sending Kate and Anthony off to India felt like a way to let Jonny and Simone do other projects for a season instead. Jonny himself is probably gonna be busy with all of the press for the upcoming Wicked movie. So if the announcement comes that they won't be around, I wouldn't be surprised.

4- Last Season for Queen Charlotte Queen Charlotte Lives Forever!

Bridgerton is not known for being 100% historically accurate. And let's face it, even if it were, people would still be complaining about the historical inconsistencies. But one thing Bridgerton is creeping up on is the year 1818. And it's in November of that year that the real-life Queen Charlotte passed away.

Season 4 will, I assume, start in 1816. If they do a one-year time jump, we'll get the rest of the season in 1817 when the main events of Benedict's book take place. If they do a two-year time jump, like they did in the books, then we'll be in 1818 and we'll be in the year we say goodbye to Queen Charlotte.

BUT, the showrunners have pretty much said that they've decided the show exists in an "alternate universe" and they're just going to keep Queen Charlotte around for a while.

The Queen lives. Long live the Queen.

5- Eloise Meets Sir Phillip Crane (?)

While the masquerade references were heavy-handed, the references to Philoise were more subtle. In episode 3x02, Eloise wears a dress that is patterned with the same flower that was gifted to her by Sir Phillip in the books. And in 3x05, when trying to make herself feel better about her betrothal, Cressida tells Eloise that the two of them can "flirt with widowers." The showrunners are slowly setting up the Eloise/Phillip dynamic--they have been since season 1. I think they'll set more things into motion in season 4 and set them up for season 5.

Eloise already expressed to Kate how she felt as if everyone was pairing off and leaving her behind. Benedict's marriage will end up being the tipping point for Eloise.

Phillip would have lived the life of a botanist/academic if it weren't for his brother's tragic passing. Perhaps his academic connections could play a part in Eloise's desire to meet new people and change the world?

If they meet in season 4, it could be the catalyst for them to begin to exchange letters like they did in the books. Which will ultimately set them up for their story in season 5.

Of course, this also means that Marina is going to have to die offscreen at some point 😐

6- Cressida Redemption (?)

One of my major gripes with season 3 was that they gave so much time to the threesome subplot that two other subplots seemed to have no real conclusion or were dropped completely. One of the subplots that didn't get wrapped up as nicely as it could have was Cressida's. We didn't see her reaction to Penelope unmasking herself as Lady Whistledown. She just kind of...left.

There is a long-standing fan theory that Cressida will have a part to play in the Benedict/Sophie story based on a piece of script that named Cressida's mother "Araminta". If this is true, then I think we'll see Cressida in some way next season. And maybe she'll get a happier ending. I never thought at the beginning of the show that I'd want Cressida to end up happy somewhere, but boy season 3 did a great job of making me actually sympathetic to her character.

7- Another Offscreen Wedding

One thing that I know frustrated Kathony fans last season was not seeing an onscreen wedding for Kate and Anthony. I mean, we saw a wedding, and Kate and Anthony were there, but he almost got married to the wrong person. The closest we got was Anthony disassociating so hard that he astral projected himself into an alternate reality.

The only onscreen weddings to canonical spouses we've seen have been the Daphne/Simon, Colin/Penelope, and Francesca/John weddings. But if anybody was hoping to see an onscreen wedding with Benedict in season 4, think again.

I believe that the drama of Benedict and Sophie's story will keep up through all eight episodes of their season. And, like Kate and Anthony's season, we'll flash forward in time at the end of the episode to Benedict and Sophie several months into their marriage. But we won't get to see the actual wedding.

8- Crossdressing Sophie (?)

Admittedly, this is less of a prediction and more wishful thinking on my part. This is the route I would go down if I was writing for the show, anyway.

Show!Benedict now being canonically pansexual has opened up the possibility for him to have an LGBTQ+ partner. But I have a slightly different idea. One plot point of Benedict's book is that Sophie, after running away from her stepmother's house, cuts off all of her hair to sell when she's desperate for money.

I think Show!Sophie could still get her hair cut off like in the book, and then go around disguised as a man for safety/freedom of movement/job opportunities. Then Benedict gets confused when he discovers Sophie in "boy mode" because he hasn't felt this level of attraction to someone since his Lady In Silver.

Maybe we'll get a Victor/Victoria scenario out of it (woman pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman).

Like I said, this is less of a prediction and more of the route I would go down if I was writing for the show. It probably won't happen this way. But maybe I'll give fanfic writers some plot bunnies.

#bridgerton #bridgerton speculation #bridgerton season 4 #bridgerton s4 predictions #bridgerton s4 theories #colin bridgerton #penelope bridgerton #polin #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #eloise bridgerton #sir phillip crane #cressida cowper #francesca brigerton #john stirling

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 year ago

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One More Favor

Pairing: Titans!Dick Grayson x fem!reader (most of this fic takes place in/around Titans 1x2)

Summary: When Dick takes Rachel out of Detroit, he needs help, but he'll have to call in a few favors first.

Word Count: 5.0k+ words

Warnings: POV changes (that hopefully make sense), fluff, a little bit of angst, descriptions of injuries/self-harm (reader cuts her arm open to remove a tracker), several descriptive fight scenes, guns?, spoiler for Titans.

A/N: This is my first Dick Grayson fic, and I actually wrote it several months ago and just got around the editing it. Dick may be OOC, but I hope you enjoy this and please let me know what you think!

Masterlist | DC/Dick Grayson Masterlist | Request Info (OPEN)

Gotham City - 4 Years Ago

The heavy door creaks as it is pulled open, warm air blowing out into the cold rain. You step inside, dropping your umbrella in the overflowing bin and wiping your shoes on the mat. Shivering slightly, you run your hands up and down your arms, attempting to warm up.

“Hi, Alfred,” you greet as you look over at him, your smile dropping at the solemn look on his face. “What happened?”

“Master Grayson left last night. He left you this,” Alfred answers as he hands you an envelope, your name written in Dick’s handwriting across the front.

“He’s not coming back, is he?” you ask, tears welling in your eyes.

“I’m afraid not. Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you, Alfred. I’m going to go home,” you say as you pull the door open and step out, waiting for the door to close behind you. You take a deep breath and start running, not even thinking about the umbrella you left. As your tears mix with the rain on your skin, your heart feels about as warm as the Gotham City air.

Fremont, Ohio - Present Day

“Where are you taking me?” Rachel asks, spinning one of her rings on her finger as she looks out the window.

“To see an old friend. She can help us,” Dick answers, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel.

An hour later, Dick checks his phone while he waits in the car as Rachel goes into a truck stop. He tracks her through the window as he dials a number he hasn’t called in years. It rings several times, and he thinks he won’t get an answer.

“Hello?” A voice asks as the line connects.

“Hi, Alfred, it’s me.”

“It’s been a long time, Master Grayson.”

“I know. This is a one-time thing; I need a favor.”

Omar, Ohio – Present Day

You enter the diner, sighing as you fall into a booth. Looking up at the television mounted in the corner, you see a story about yet another murder in Detroit. It’s almost as bad as Gotham City these days.

“How’s my favorite customer today?” Dan asks as he walks to the booth, his apron still on.

“I’ll bet you say that to all of your customers,” you counter with a smile, your hood still pulled over your head.

“I most certainly do not. What can I get you today?”

“Just some tea, please.”

“You need to eat.”

“Will you let me pay?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I’m not letting you give me free food every day, Dan. Just tea.”

“Fine,” Dan sighs, returning to the kitchen and passing your order to a waitress.

The bell above the door chimes as it opens, a few sets of footsteps echoing as the door closes. You pull your hood up further, turning to face the back corner. Kelsey, Dan’s only waitress at this hour, drops off the mug of tea and a book, smiling at you as she walks away. She’s been lending you books since you first visited two months ago. You slide it closer, shaking your head as you read the summary: a vigilante who gets a new partner. Sounds familiar.

Benton, Pennsylvania – 3 ½ Years Ago

You take a deep breath before you dig the knife into your arm, making a shallow slice from the middle of your forearm up to your elbow. After you drop the knife into the hotel bathroom sink, you grab a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit and dig around, gritting your teeth as you ignore the pain. When you finally see a glint of silver, you grab it and pull. The tracker makes a ‘clink’ sound as it falls into the sink and goes down the drain. You sigh as you pick up the pre-threaded needle and start on the stitches. Good luck finding me now, Bruce.

Norwalk, Ohio – Earlier Today

“If the police are looking for me, is it smart to be on an interstate?” Rachel asks.

Dick sighs, knowing she is right. He pulls off at the next exit, getting on a small Ohio state route and heading south. They drive for about thirty minutes before coming to a small diner, claiming to have the state’s best chicken and waffles. Dick is ready for a break, so he doesn’t fight Rachel when she asks him to stop. They walk into the diner, and Dick looks around, planning escape routes and scanning for trouble. The waitress and the cook both say hello as Dick and Rachel sit by the window, the kitchen and the door visible. Dick looks at the only other customer, a girl in an oversized sweatshirt leaning over a book and nursing a mug of something.

“I’m Kelsey. What can I get you, folks?” Kelsey smiles as she approaches their table.

“Chicken and waffles, please,” Rachel orders.

“Coming up, and for you, sir?”

“Just coffee,” Dick answers, smiling.

Dick watches as the cook takes the order from Kelsey before nodding toward the girl in the booth. Kelsey walks over and starts talking to her, but Dick can’t tell if it is a friendly conversation or a ‘you need to leave’ conversation. Kelsey’s shoulders drop as she turns around and walks back to the kitchen pass-through, shaking her head as she speaks to the cook. A plate and a mug slide onto the counter, and Kelsey carries them over to Dick and Rachel, telling them to let her know if they need anything.

“What are you looking at?” Rachel asks.

“I’m trying to figure out what’s going on over there,” Dick answers, gesturing across the restaurant with his chin.

Rachel looks over and cocks her head slightly, “Kelsey’s happy but a little worried, the other one is really hard to read.”

Dick nods, sipping his coffee as he looks up at the television screen. His heart drops as Rachel’s picture appears on the screen, but it is gone before he can say anything. Dick looks toward the kitchen, but no one is there. Turning his head, he sees the cook talking to the other customer, sitting at the booth with her. Kelsey and the cook stand, and the cook returns to the kitchen as Kelsey walks toward their table.

“How is everything?” Kelsey asks.

“Great. Those were definitely the best in the state,” Rachel answers.

“Need anything else?”

“Just the check,” Dick answers, reaching for his wallet.

“It’s been covered,” Kelsey assures before clearing the table.

“By who?” Dick asks, eyebrows furrowing as Kelsey smiles.

The girl in the booth looks up suddenly, leaning to look out the window. She stands and moves toward Kelsey, telling her something before walking out the back door, the book she had been reading abandoned at the booth. Kelsey whispers something to Dan before turning quickly to walk back to Dick and Rachel.

“Someone is here for her,” Kelsey says to Dick, gesturing toward Rachel, “there’s a room through the kitchen with a back door.”

Dick and Rachel stand quickly, following her through the kitchen. They all freeze at the sound of gunshots, then begin moving again.

“Why are you helping us?” Dick asks.

“Favor for a friend,” Kelsey answers as she opens the back door. “Be careful.”

Dick nods as he ushers Rachel to stand on one side of him, gripping his gun in his other hand as they slowly round the building. The girl in the sweatshirt, who Dick really needs a new name for, is standing in the parking lot, a pipe falling from her hand and three unconscious men sprawled on the ground around her. She looks up before dropping her head, putting her hands in her pocket, and walking away. Dick hears one of the men groan and decides to leave before they come to. Rachel keeps asking him if he knows the girl, and the only answer he can supply is, “I don’t think so.” Maybe he should make it his new catchphrase.

Gotham City – 4 Years Ago

You enter your apartment and grab your backpack, dumping its contents out on the floor before you run around and grab what you consider “essentials”: an extra pair of shoes, a change of clothes, cash, a fake ID, a sweatshirt, a blanket, and the letter from Dick. You slide the letter into the protected laptop pocket of my backpack, promising yourself you will read it someday, but not right now. You put on your best pair of sneakers, comfortable and warm clothes, and a jacket with a hood before walking to the ATM, emptying your account, and ditching your card before boarding a bus to Princeton. As you watch Gotham City fade behind the bus, you cry because you lost a part of yourself, and you know it would hurt too much to see reminders of him. So, you leave.

Glen Easton, West Virginia – 2 Years Ago

You check into the small motel with cash and a fake ID, grateful you can sleep in a real bed for once. You find your room and collapse against the small mattress, setting your backpack beside the bed. You open it and pull out a change of clothes before showering. The letter from Dick is still in the computer pocket, unopened. When you think you are finally ready to open it, you get scared about what is inside it and change your mind.

You retrieve the sweatshirt from the bottom of the backpack and put it on. Then you order a pizza and turn on the TV. The sweatshirt is the only thing that provides you comfort after leaving Gotham City. You left everything that tied you to that life, except the sweatshirt, and nights like this make you wish you had realized Dick was going to leave and chased him.

Omar, Ohio – Present Day

“Why are we driving around in circles? I thought you were taking me somewhere?” Rachel asks.

“I’m looking for the girl that helped us,” Dick mumbles as he looks across the street.

“Oh,” Rachel says with a smile.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ve felt different since you saw her in the diner.”

“She just reminded me of someone I used to know.”

“Someone you knew. Seems like a lot more emotion than simple acquaintances.”

“Fine, we were best friends. We did- some stuff together and we were super close,” Dick said, failing to find a way to explain their vigilante activities.

“You did stuff together?” Rachel repeats incredulously.

“Not like that,” Dick huffs. “We just- she was my best friend, and I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Why?”

“I left.”

“You left her?”

“I didn’t leave her; I left the life I had then.”

“And by extension, her,” Rachel scoffs. “Why haven’t you called her?”

“I tried, once. Her number had been disconnected and I didn’t know her new one. Or if she even wanted to talk to me.”

“Surely you know someone who would’ve stayed in contact with her. Call them.”

Dick sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He does know someone.

“Right now,” Rachel adds, “I can feel your sadness and it’s bumming me out.”

Dick pulls over, pulling his phone from his pocket and typing the number. “It’s me again. I need one more favor,” he says when the line connects.

“Of course, Master Grayson,” Alfred agrees.

“I’m looking for,” he glances at Rachel, who is listening intently, before finishing, “her. I was wondering if you had a new number for her. Or know where she is?”

“Master Grayson,” Alfred says sadly, “we haven’t seen her in four years.”

“Four years?” Dick asks, eyes widening.

“Yes, sir. She left right after you did.”

“Did you give her the letter?”

“I did. She ran out of the manor, literally, after I gave it to her. We have not heard from her since.”

“Any idea where she went?”

“Last we knew she was in Benton, Pennsylvania. But that was nearly three and a half years ago. I’m sorry, Master Grayson.”

“Thanks, Alfred,” Dick says before hanging up.

“Sorry,” Rachel says quietly, “I shouldn’t have made you call.”

“Not your fault,” Dick assures her before pulling out. He slams on his brakes and backs up, turning into an alley and parking.

“What?” Rachel yells, gripping her seat.

“I think she’ll go back to the diner, they seemed to know her. Enough to give us free food on her behalf.”

“That’s what you think happened?” Rachel asks sarcastically.

“You’re the one that read their emotions.”

Rachel sighs before agreeing, “You’re right. She’ll go back.”

They find a small motel and get a room for the night, leaving their stuff in the room before returning to the diner. Entering, Dick and Rachel look around but only see the cook and a different waitress.

“Welcome back,” the cook, who introduces himself as Dan, greets.

“Hi, Dan. We’re looking for the girl who was in here this morning. She was wearing a grey sweatshirt, reading a book, and left quickly out the back door,” Dick explains.

“Yeah, I know her. Why are you looking for her?”

“She helped you. That’s why you’re so nice to her, if not a little protective, isn’t it?” Rachel asks.

Dan’s brow furrows as he answers, “Yes, she helped me.”

“We’re not trying to hurt her or get her in trouble or anything. She helped us this morning and we’d like to repay the favor,” Dick promises. “Could you at least give us her name?”

“I don’t know her name,” Dan answers. “But she’ll probably come back here in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Dick and Rachel say together.

The following morning, Dick checks out of the motel and drives to the diner. They both look to the booth where she sat yesterday as they walk in, frowning when they see no one there. Kelsey smiles as she greets them and takes their order, exactly as they had yesterday. Dick spins his mug around as he watches the television, trying to keep himself from staring at the door.

“Dick,” Rachel whispers a few minutes later. She gestures toward the counter, where the girl is now sitting, wearing the same sweatshirt as yesterday.

Before Dick can do anything, Dan’s voice fills the diner. “All three of you need to get somewhere safe. Everyone in town is talking about some secret service agents asking about you folks.”

“All of us?” The girl in the sweatshirt asks.

“You know how these people feel about cops, but they’ll come in here eventually and you don’t need to be here,” Dan says.

“11 North Country Road 29,” the girl in the sweatshirt calls as she stands, “you got that?”

“Yeah, we got it,” Rachel answers, practically dragging Dick to the front door.

Dick gets in the car and speeds toward the address, hoping that the girl in the sweatshirt will meet them there. And give them her name. He parks between the house and a row of trees, where the car is hidden from the road. The back door is unlocked, and Dick sweeps the house before ushering Rachel in. Several minutes later, the back door opens again, and the girl in the sweatshirt walks in, coming face-to-muzzle with Dick’s gun. Her hands are raised as he lowers the gun.

“Sorry,” Dick apologizes as he holsters it.

“Not a problem. I’d give it a few hours before leaving,” the girl says, moving past them.

“Thank you. For yesterday and right now,” Rachel says.

“Least I could do. I’ll be in the back room if you need anything.”

Rachel waits until she is out of earshot to turn toward Dick and ask, “She really reminds you of this girl doesn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Dick sighs. “That obvious?”

“Your shame is practically choking me. Why did you hurt her?"

“I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s not an excuse, Dick.”

Rachel walks toward the back room, determined to find a way to help Dick get over his hurt.

Omar, Ohio – 2 Months Ago

“Take your hands off the girl,” you demand as you enter the dark room.

Three men turn toward you, one raising a gun as the others take a step closer. You see a girl tied to a chair, a gag in her mouth, blood everywhere, and fear in her eyes.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with, sweetheart,” the man with the gun growls.

“Right back at ya,” you say, taking a threatening step toward him.

The two other men charge toward you. You catch one of their fists as they throw it toward you, twisting him in front of you to encounter the brunt of the other man’s hit as he throws it. Their shared momentum knocks them both to the floor. You slide across the floor, elbowing the third man’s knee as you grab his hand, flipping his wrist so the gun falls to the floor. You pick it up and level it at his temple.

“One more time: let the girl go,” you demand slowly.

One of the men on the floor throws a knife, which spins in the air and nicks your arm. You glance toward him before swinging the gun and taking three shots, taking out one knee on every man. As they groan in pain and roll on the floor, you untie the girl and ask her where to go. She directs me to her father’s diner.

“I’m looking for Dan,” you say as you carry her through the back door.

Dan comes running, grabbing his first aid kit as he sits beside her. “Your arm needs attention?” he asks as he points to your scarred forearm and the small bloody patch from the knife.

“No, I’m all good. Thank you.” You begin to stand, but he stops you, refusing to let you leave until you eat something.

“You’ll never pay here. Come back anytime,” Dan says when you leave an hour later.

Omar, Ohio – Present Day

“Sorry about him,” Rachel says as she walks into the back room.

“It’s completely fine.” The girl in the sweatshirt laughs softly, her hand playing with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Rachel says as she sits in a chair across from her.

“How long have they been looking for you?”

“About a week. Since they killed my mom.”

“I’m sorry.”

Rachel shrugs. “Just so you know, the guy I’m with, Dick, he’s a cop. And he’s not usually this weird.”

She laughs again, looking up long enough that Rachel can see her face.

“You remind him of someone he used to know.”

She shakes her head before changing the subject. “You’re Rachel, right? I’m assuming you can do something, otherwise, they wouldn’t be looking for you.”

“I can feel what other people are feeling. There’s something inside of me, but I don’t know what it is.”

“Rachel, you can learn to control it. It’s obvious you’re a good person.”

“I tried to read your emotions at the diner yesterday,” Rachel admits, “but you have a lot, and they were overlapping.”

“A lot has happened to me in the last few years. I don’t even know what I’m feeling all the time.”

“They’re clearer now. You’re sad and regretful,” Rachel says quietly.

“I don’t care that you’re looking, Rach. The more you use your powers, the better you’ll get at them. And you’re dead on.”

“Sometimes, when I touch people I can see some of their memories,” Rachel explains.

The girl in the sweatshirt smiles. “You don’t even know my name.”

“What’s your name?”

She extends her hand and answers, “Find out.”

Gotham City is cold in winter, and the freezing rain is not helping the temperature issue. Robin is fighting behind me, our backs touching as we take down the last of the numerous bad guys.

“Nice work,” Robin says as he smiles at me. “But you’re cold, stop touching me.”

“Oh? I am cold? Your Kevlar is practically frozen,” I respond sarcastically.

He pulls me into his side, pressing the button on his belt to turn on his cape heater.

The setting changes: a large door opens, and an umbrella is placed in a bin, destined to be forgotten.

“-left last night. He left you this.”

An envelope trades hands, and a name is written on it. The door is opened and closed, then running in the rain gives way to stressed packing and boarding a bus. The same envelope is unopened years later, a new scar appears on a forearm, the same backpack is stashed in a motel, and a sweatshirt is the most prized possession.

Omar, Ohio – Present Day

“It was you,” Rachel says, her eyes wide as her hand slips from yours.

“What was?” you ask.

“You’re the girl Dick left, the one he’s feeling so guilty and sad about.”

“He what?”

“He saw you in the diner and was reminded of a girl he used to know. He said they ‘did stuff together.’ You don’t look like that girl; you are that girl.”

“What did you see?” you ask, confused about how exactly her powers work.

“I see some of the most important things in your life. I saw you fighting with Robin and then learning that someone left. You’ve been on the run since then, haven’t you? And the sweatshirt means something.”

“What do you know about Robin?”

“I know who he is. I know what he went through. I think you two should talk.”

A noise outside causes you to stand suddenly. “Stay here.”

You walk out, seeing Dick holding his gun as he moves toward a window. You move to the other side of the room, by another door, and stand against the wall as the door is kicked open. A hand holding a gun comes inside; you grab the wrist and slam it down against your knee. The gun hits the floor and slides away. The man raises both hands to your shoulders, pushing you backward and into the wall. You form a fist and slam it up into his chin, his head snapping back as his grip on you loosens. While you fight him, Dick takes on a second man who enters the house.

Dick moves behind the door, grabbing the man’s shirt collar and flipping him to the floor. He attempts to get information from him but comes up empty. Slamming his fist to his nose repeatedly, Dick doesn’t stop until the man loses consciousness. He looks over and sees the girl in the sweatshirt standing from the floor, wiping blood from her nose.

“That was impressive. You two could be partners,” Rachel says as she walks in, smirking as she looks over at you.

Dick opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, telling them, “You two should get out of here while you still can.”

“I’m not leaving,” Rachel says, crossing her arms. “Not until you two talk.”

“About what?” Dick asks.

“Rachel,” you warn.

“She’s right. We do need to get going.”

“Show him.”

“Either we need to leave, or I need more information,” Dick sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

A phone rings in the back room, and you walk away to answer it, releasing a breath as you realize it was Kelsey.

“What was that about?” Dick whispers.

“You two have to talk before you never get a chance again,” Rachel says.

“Someone broke into your house and assaulted several officers,” you say as you return, “the police are calling a nationwide manhunt for you, Rachel.”

“I am not leaving without you,” she says, stepping toward you and grabbing your hand.

Her eyes fall to the sleeve before she glances up at you and pushes the sleeve up. You push it back down quickly and look away from her.

“I can’t go with you,” you say sadly, shaking your head.

“You can if you want to,” Dick offers, “you’ve been a huge help.”

You look toward Rachel, who only nods as she squeezes your hand.

“Just tell him,” Rachel whispers.

You take a deep breath before you look up and pull your hood down. “Hi, Dickie.”

Dick’s eyes widen as he takes a hesitant step forward.

“Rachel said I remind you of someone,” you say. “I thought-“

Dick cuts you off by rushing forward and hugging you tightly. You return the hug, gripping him tightly and burying your face in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I left,” Dick whispers.

“It’s okay.”

“Tell him everything else,” Rachel encourages from beside you.

You squeeze Dick one more time before pulling back and saying, “I left Gotham City after you did. Alfred gave me the letter and I just ran. I’ve been in a bunch of small cities since then, but nowhere as long as here. I saved Dan’s daughter from some kidnappers and just stayed for some reason.”

“Alfred said he didn’t know where you went after Benton,” Dick says.

“I cut my tracker out in Benton,” you explain, pulling your sleeve up and exposing the scar.

He reaches forward and gently runs his fingers up the scar. “Tracker?”

“Right. Bruce told me he sedated you when he gave you yours, something about you being too excited about being in the bat cave.”

“He put a tracker in me?”

“He put trackers in all of us.”

The phone rings twice before silencing. “That’s our cue to leave,” you say.

Columbus, Ohio – 1 Week Later

“How’s your arm?” you ask as you enter the room.

“Healing quickly,” Dick answers, smiling as he looks up at you from the hotel bed.

“Looks good,” you say, gently holding his arm, “yours probably won’t scar.”

“Pizza’s here,” Rachel calls as someone knocks on the door.

Dick answers the door and gets the pizza while you and Rachel get drinks from the mini-fridge. You all sit on the small couch as you eat, and you can’t help but think of old times. The following morning, you, Dick, and Rachel load into Dick’s car and drive toward Covington.

“Are you going to tell him?” Rachel asks as we wait in the car while Dick goes into a police station.

“Tell him what?’

“That you still love him.”

“I-“

“I can feel it. I could feel it when he was Robin and when you found out he left, in the safe house, and right now.”

“I don’t know, Rach.”

Dick sighs as he gets back in the car. “I got the description of the woman who broke into the crime scene.”

“Where to now?” you ask.

“Arcade. 5 miles north,” Rachel answers.

You laugh lightly as you shrug at Dick.

“An hour,” Dick says as he puts the car in gear.

“And a half,” you and Rachel correct together.

You give her some cash before you and Dick find a seat where you can see the entire arcade.

“You’re good with her,” you say as you steal a fry from his plate.

He playfully swats your hand away before moving his plate closer. “So are you,” he agrees.

You watch Rachel for a moment before looking down at your sweatshirt sleeve.

“Are you okay?” Dick asks, his hand landing on your arm.

“Yeah,” you say with a nod, still looking down. “This sweatshirt is the only connection I’ve had to you for the last four years.”

“What?”

You extend your arm toward him, watching his face as he grabs your wrist and looks at the sleeve, his initials and a small Robin messily embroidered on it.

“You kept it?” he asks.

“Of course, I did.”

“Mine’s in the trunk of my car,” he admits, smiling as he looks back up at you.

“Really?”

“You think that I’d leave it after all the hard work we put into them? I couldn’t leave it behind; it felt like leaving you behind. I tried to call you.”

“I left my phone; didn’t want Bruce to come after me.”

“Why does Rachel keep telling you to talk to me?”

You laugh before answering, “There’s something I haven’t told you and she wants me to.”

“What?”

“That I’m in love with you,” you whisper, looking into his eyes.

Dick is silent as he stares at you, his hand still wrapped around your wrist.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said any-“

Dick pulls your wrist gently, slamming his lips to yours. His other hand raises and wraps around the base of your neck, pulling you closer. You move your hands to his waist, pulling yourself closer to him as you kiss him like he’s your source of life.

“I take it you told him,” Rachel says, suddenly standing on the other side of the table.

Dick pulls back, smiling at you before saying, “Shut up, Rachel.”

“I’m out of money.”

Dick pulls a fifty from his wallet, handing it to her and smiling in gratitude as she walks away. She nods and returns the smile.

“I love you,” Dick says.

“I love you,” you respond, stealing another one of his fries.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. I wanted to find you but had no idea where to look.”

“Rachel was right. We could be partners. Again.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Grayson,” you smile before kissing him again.

“You didn’t read the letter did you?”

“I couldn’t,” you admit, shaking your head, “hurt too much. Why?”

“I wrote it to tell you I loved you. I wanted to take you with me but was scared.”

“I guess I should read it then, because I love you, too, Dickie.”

You and Dick watch as Rachel walks toward you, a tall woman with bright Magenta hair on one side and a green-haired boy on her other side.

When they reach the table, Rachel says, “This is Kory and Gar. They have some interesting stories.”

“This feels familiar,” you mutter to Dick as you stand up.

“I’m gonna need a bigger car,” Dick says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson fic #titans!dick grayson #dc titans #fem!reader

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dumbasslesbi2 · 21 days ago

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Let Me Read To You ~ Chapter 4 (Agatha x Rio Bookstore AU)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary:

It's been about four months since Rio and Agatha started their relationship and both of them want to move in with one another. However, neither of them know how to bring up the topic

Notes:

Hey everyone! I got a fluff chapter for y'all cause lowkey too many of these chapters have had smut in them so here's some good ol' wholesome fluff lol

“Do you want another round my love?” Rio asked, getting up and taking the two empty beer bottles in front of them. They had been together for four months now and they decided to go out with the lesbian book club to a gay bar. “Yes please, thank you baby” Agatha said, reaching up to kiss her girlfriend on the cheek. “Wow,my love? You two are getting serious” Jen said as Rio was walking away. “What can I say, can't help the lesbian urges” Agath said, giggling. “So when are you two gonna actually lesbian it and get a U-Haul?” Alice asked, taking a sip of her drink. “Hopefully soon, it doesn't make sense anymore now that Rio is practically at my house almost everyday, I even quit my job to help her out with the bookstore” Agatha said with a huff. “No wonder I never see you home anymore before three, hopefully she's not working you too hard” Jen said while picking up her own drink. “Actually it's the opposite, I feel Rio doesn't let me do enough but I get it. It's her store after all” Agatha said, playing with her hair. “ Here you go baby,” Rio said, setting down a beer in front of Agatha. “Thank you sweetheart” Agatha said in return, caressing Rio's hand. “So do you guys think Lilia is actually gonna come or?” Alice said, looking around for their friend. “She said she was bringing the teen so you know how long it takes for him to get ready” Jen said with a huff. “Teen?” Agatha questioned, taking a sip of her beer. “Lilia’s nephew, William. He likes hanging out with us plus I think of him almost like a gay adopted son to our lesbian coven” Rio told her with a giggle. “We’re here! Sorry someone here took forever” Lilia said, taking a seat at the table where all the ladies were. “Finally, I’m assuming the teen was taking his sweet time,” Jen said, looking next to Lilia to see him taking a seat as well. “No, Eddie kept texting me and distracting me” he said, checking his phone to see if his boyfriend was still sending him texts. “Oh also, this is Agatha, she’s not that new to the group but you’ve been too busy with school to visit your lesbians moms” Alice pointed out, laughing as Jen nudged her to behave. “Oh hi! I’m William!” the teen exclaimed, putting out his hand to shake. “Oh god you really are gay” Agatha said as she shook his hand. The entire group laughed as William was shocked by Agatha’s joke.

It was after a good while that the group called it and all went their own ways. Rio and Agatha carpooled with Alice and Jen so that way they didn’t have to take so many cars. “So, it seems like you and William got along,” Jen said, looking back at Agatha. “He’s a good kid, good to see he has a lot of female role models in his life” Agatha replied, still a little tipsy from all the beers she drank. Rio couldn’t help but laugh at Agatha’s state as she rolled down the window to smoke a cigarette. Agatha rolled down her own window and nudged Rio to let her smoke a bit. “So any other plans for you two for the rest of the weekend?” Alice asked, changing the song on the radio. “Walk Nicholas in the park, I was thinking of letting him stay in the store for a bit. I know how much he loves running around and looking through the bookshelves” Rio said, looking over at Agatha, looking for her approval. “Mmm that sounds good, just make sure to keep an eye on him, he’s been into trying to climb things lately” Agatha said with a groan. “Oh god he’s a climber?” Jen exclaimed. “Yup, he tried to get on top of the tv the other day” Agatha said, pinching the bridge of her nose thinking about it. “My dad always said boys are either climbers, runners or diggers,” Rio said, looking over to Agatha and rubbing her back. “I guess it’s not that bad then, at least he isn’t a runner” Agatha told her giggling. As Jen parked the car they all bid their goodbyes, leaving Agatha and Rio to go back to their house. Well technically just Agatha’s house, for now. As Rio opened the door she greeted the babysitter and paid her since Agatha was still a bit too tipsy to argue with her. Rio helped Nicholas to bed, leaving Agatha to lie down on the couch for a minute. As Rio returned she sat next to Agatha, laying her head on her shoulder and playing with her fingers. “Rio?” Agatha asked, turning her head to look at her. “Yes my love?” Rio replied, looking up to meet her eyes. “Move in with us” Agatha said, staring into her eyes. “Sure,” Rio told her with a giggle. “I’m serious, you basically live here. Let’s just uhaul already” Agatha said to her with a pout. “I know you are, I’m just giggling because Jen and Alice have been pushing me to ask you” Rio told her, kissing away her pout. “They were pushing me to ask you too today,” Agatha said, kissing Rio’s head. “You sure you don’t want to run it by Nicky first though?” Rio asked, brushing away Agatha’s hair from her face. “Nah, he likes you too much, if anything he’s sad everytime you leave. Oh wait! Actually, there’s something I wanted to show you” Agatha said, getting up and going to the kitchen.

When Agatha came back, she had a piece of paper and showed it to Rio. At first she was confused by it but then looked at it to see it was a drawing. It was a drawing of her, Agatha and Nicholas all together holding hands. However, when Rio saw what was written above them, tears came instantly to her eyes. Above the two of them he wrote “mommies”, which just made Rio emotional. She was never really one to think about having a family but with Agatha it all came so easily. “Aw baby, this is adorable” Rio told Agatha, giving Agatha a bear hug. “There’s no way Nicholas wouldn’t want you living here with us” Agatha told her, cradling her head.

It took a full day but they were able to move all of Rio’s belongings over to Agatha’s. She even gave Rio her office since there was no point of having it anymore now that she was working at the bookstore. Rio made it her writing and indoor plants space, she always loved having a witchy vibe when it came to her spaces. “God you’re such a good decorator my love” Agatha said, breath taken from how beautiful the office had become. “What can I say, it’s a passion of mine” Rio said giggling, kissing Agatha on the cheek. “Mommy why boxes?” Nicholas asked, running into the room. “Well baby, Rio is going to be living with us from now on. She won’t have to leave as often” Agatha told him while picking him up. “Mama staying with us? YAY!!!” He screamed a bit too close to Agatha’s ear as she moved him slightly away from her body. Rio came closer and grabbed the boy from her. “Mhmm, I get to stay here with you and your mommy, are you ok with that Nicky?” She questioned, making sure the boy was stable in her arms. Nicholas didn’t say anything but nodded his head and put his arms around Rio’s neck, hugging her closely. Agatha couldn’t help herself and snuck a picture since she knew how much Rio hated taking pictures. “Hey Nicky, how do you feel about getting ready for bed” Agatha said, caressing her son’s back. “Can I sleep with you and mama tonight?” he asked, looking up at Agatha. “Sure buddy, whatever you want” Rio told him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” Agatha whispered. As Agatha got Nicholas tucked in she went into the bathroom where Rio was getting ready for bed herself. “Thank you for everything Rio, I love you” Agatha told her, coming from behind and hugging her. “Of course baby, I love you too” Rio told her after spitting out her toothpaste into the sink. “Now com’on, I’m tired from packing and unpacking all day” Rio said while turning and giving Agatha a quick kiss. The both of them got in bed, hugging Nicholas who was already asleep between the two of them. They drifted off to sleep with the thoughts of them finally becoming a family. Rio hadn’t written in a while but now she dreamt of ideas for her next book of fiction. A witch who falls in love with death despite all odds. A world in which A covenless witch and lady death herself form a coven but most important of all, a family.

#agatha x rio #agatha all along #agatha harkness #lesbian #rio vidal #sapphic #agathario #fanfic #jen x alice #lilia calderu #william kaplan #ao3 fanfic

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matttgirlies · 7 months ago

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Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

heavy warnings - SA!!, vague mention of drug use - if any of these topics make you uncomfortable the scene involving SA will be outlined and please don’t feel the need to read it, please take care of yourself🩷

y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused

Chapter 3

Time had become my enemy. Matt was due to return to the States on March 1, 1960. I had only a few months left to spend as much time with him as I could.

Every minute I wasn’t with him, I thought of him. My life was now dominated by him and yet there were times when I would be disappointed by him. One evening he told me he would call and didn’t. When I finally heard from him the next day, he said, “Hi, Baby. Do you think you can come over tonight?”

“What happened last night? You were supposed to call.”

“I was? Oh shit.” He had been concentrating on his karate lesson and had forgotten.

I had to learn not to take his words to heart. It was disappointing, but it was just his way.

Matt’s calls usually came after seven to let me know that I’d be picked up around eight. I had to dress quickly, trying to find some way to appear older than my age. His father was concerned about Matt being with a minor. My clothes were all young and unsophisticated skirts and sweaters. At times I’d borrow my mother’s clothes and hope everyone would assume that I was at least sixteen.

As I got to know Matt, I learned that when he wasn’t at the base, he stayed at home all of the time. He had little choice. The moment he stepped out of the door there was a giant mob scene around him. Even going to see a local movie required elaborate planning. Someone would drive Matt’s car in front of the house. He would then run out, hurdle the fence, and duck into the car before any of his fans could start begging him for autographs. There were always crowds after him, calling, standing outside the house, literally charging at him when he entered any public place. Many evenings when Matt had early morning calls it was either David Jones, a friend who Matt had brought over from the States, or James Sturniolo who drove me to and from 18 Hauptstrasse.

One particular evening when neither David nor James was able to drive me home, Matt had a “friend” who was called Pete take me.

THIS SCENE INCLUDES SA!!

if this topic makes you uncomfortable please skip.

Pete was driving me from Matt’s home back to Wiesbaden. I was tired and dozing off. All of a sudden, I felt the road get bumpy. I opened my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“You’ll find out,” he said, turning his head away.

We had driven off the highway onto a dirt road. I could see the lights of one distant house, and the rest was all blackness. I began to get frightened. “What’s going on?” I inquired, confused. By then Pete had stopped the car and shut off the ignition.

I repeated my question, but Pete didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and grabbed me, trying to kiss me. I pushed him away, struggling. He threw me down on the seat.

Panicked, I begged, “Don’t! Leave me alone!” I started fighting. I kicked one door open and opened the driver’s door with my hand while simultaneously banging the horn, hitting the lights, and scratching at his face. Out of frustration and fear of being caught, he finally gave up.

The rest of the way home, he never said a word. I just sat there sobbing, disbelieving, praying that I would get home safely.

END OF SCENE

Three days passed from that night before I heard from Matt. My parents knew something was wrong; however, I couldn’t tell them Pete tried to attack me because I would never be allowed to ride with him again. If I didn’t, how would I get to and from Matt’s if David and James weren’t available? My imagination ran wild. I was afraid to tell Matt because I thought Pete was his friend. I began to think that perhaps Matt knew what Pete had attempted. Maybe I was just a plaything to Matt, someone to pass around to Pete, or anyone else who wanted me. I was tortured by my thoughts.

Finally, Pete called and said Matt wanted to see me. I had no choice but to go with him.

During the drive to Bad Nauheim, Pete made no mention of what had transpired between us, and neither did I. I said nothing. I was very apprehensive being with him. I didn’t know, when he removed his hand from the steering wheel, if he was going to try to touch me, or just what was on his mind. I had no choice but to tell Matt.

That evening, when we were alone in his room, Matt asked me if anything was wrong.

My voice was trembling. I could hardly get the words out.

When I finally did tell him, Matt went crazy. “I’m going to kill him,” he shouted. He paced the floor, cursing Pete. I was his little girl, Matt said, and he had never gone all the way with me. Now this other guy, this so-called friend of his, had tried to rape me. I listened as he shouted, secretly relieved at his response. How could I ever have doubted Matt?

Matt was so angry, it took me the whole evening to calm him down. I finally convinced him that we had to keep Pete’s attack secret from my parents, or I’d never be allowed to come back. Matt held me tightly, as if trying to take the painful memory away. He felt guilty for having put me in such a dangerous position.

From that time on, Pete was fully excluded from Matt’s life. I don’t think Matt ever told him why, but Pete must have known. He rarely came around after that.

I began to realize that Matt expected total loyalty from his friends. If he was betrayed, he would just cut that person out of his life.

James was now sporting a neatly trimmed mustache that, according to Matt, Angela Stanley had encouraged him to grow. Mine and James’s conversations in the car were somewhat boring, and I always sensed he’d just as soon be doing something else, like spending the time with Angela, who sometimes accompanied him.

These days when I arrived at 18 Hauptstrasse I’d often find Matt upstairs studying the ancient art of karate with his instructor or downstairs in the living room proudly demonstrating new moves to his entourage, who stood about interested at his mastery of this newly popularized art form.

Matt also spent hours with a half-mad German masseur who had him convinced he could rejuvenate facial skin with his secret treatments, Matt having always been self conscious about some large pores on his face started to see him. Nate Doe ribbed Matt, saying, “What the hell’s he doing that’s so special? You look the same to me.” Defensively, Matt shot back, “Well damn! He says it’ll take some time before you see the results.” James interjected: “Time? Yeah, probably enough time to bankrupt us all by what he’s charging. I wouldn’t trust him farther than I could throw him.”

Always a center of activity at the house was Matt’s grandmother, who he nicknamed Dodger. Matt had come up with the name when he was a small boy of five and, during a temper tantrum, had thrown a baseball, missing her head by inches. Matt jokingly said, “She dodged out of the way so fast.” He started calling her Dodger from that moment.

Grandma took care of the household, did the cooking, kept everyone and everything under control. She had the air of a person with a firm purpose in life, which, in Matt’s case, was to make sure he was very well cared for. When I sought quiet while Matt practiced karate, Dodger’s room was a place to escape to. We’d sit for hours and she would tell me about the old days, about Mary Lou and her boundless love for Matt, about the grim struggle the Sturniolos had waged for survival. She had been with James and Mary Lou from the time of Matt’s birth, helping out when Mary Lou took jobs to contribute to the family’s support. A strong woman, Grandma had prevailed when her husband had walked out on her, leaving her with five children. She wanted you to believe she held a grudge against J. D. Sturniolo, but Dodger was a forgiving heart and I believe she still cared for him.

She helped raise Matt as if he were her own son, somewhat spoiling him as grandmothers do. She always rushed to his defence when she felt Mary Lou was too stern. Dodger said to me, “Mary Lou always called me Mrs. Sturniolo from the time I first met her until she breathed her last breath. One day Matt came running in and said, ‘Hi, Minnie!’ I felt so sorry for that young’un. Mary Lou rose up, took her hand to that boy, and said, ‘Don’t you ever call her by her first name. That’s disrespectful. She’s your grandma.’ He cried for an hour. I went in and said, ‘Son, it’ll be all right. She was just doing what she thought was right. Now you go in and apologize to her.’ Poor little boy looked at me with those blue eyes. So pitiful. Oh, she could be hard on him. He was a good boy, though. Never really got into any trouble, always came right home from school and did his chores. Yes, and Mary Lou would watch over him like a hawk, so scared he’d be hurt. He wanted so bad to play football at school.”

Grandma rocked back and forth in her chair, seeing something in the past that made her start picking at the bobby pins in her hair. She reached for her little box of snuff, took a dip, situated it just right, and then continued to reminisce. “Yes, he loved sports.”

“Then why didn’t he go out for any, Grandma?”

“Oh no. Mary Lou wouldn’t have that. She’d tell me, ‘Oh, Mrs. Sturniolo, I couldn’t stand it if Matt got hurt. It would kill me. I’ve watched how they play out there in those fields. They get real rough. I think they enjoy hurtin’ each other. Matt isn’t like that. He’d get out there and he’d be like a wounded bird in a pack of wild dogs. Not my young’un.’” Mary Lou’s constant effort to protect Matt, I learned, was the result of her anguish over the death of Matt’s twin brother Joseph Aaron Sturniolo.

I came to love Dodger and what she represented, compassion and total devotion to her family.

My biggest problem in those days was that Matt and I never seemed to have enough time alone. People were always dropping by, standing around the living room talking and laughing, until Matt came down from his room. As soon as he appeared, the room would become silent until he revealed his mood. No one, including myself, dared joke around unless he laughed and then we all laughed.

Because I had to share the little time I had with Matt with so many others, I began to feel jealous and possessive. It was only late in the evening, when we were in his bedroom, that I was truly happy.

We had a nightly ritual. At about ten or eleven, Matt would glance at me and look toward the stairs. Then, naively assuming that nobody knew where I was headed, I’d casually proceed to his bedroom, where I’d lie on his bed, impatiently waiting for him to appear. When he joined me, he’d lie as close to me as he could. “I love you,” I whispered. “Shhh,” he said as he put his fingers to my lips. “I don’t really understand what it is I’m feeling. I’ve grown to love you, y/nn. Dad keeps reminding me of your age and that it can’t be possible . . . When I go home . . . Only time will tell.”

Each night that I was with him he entrusted a little more of himself—his doubts, his secrets, and his frustrations. It was a lot to expect an impressionable fourteen year old to understand, but I tried. I felt his pain over his mother’s death. I ached over his desire to become a great actor like his idols Marlon Brando, James Dean, Karl Malden, and Rod Steiger. I was concerned about his fears that he might not regain the popularity he felt he’d lost by serving in the Army. And I reveled in his laughter when he asked, “What if one day I end up back driving a Crown Electric truck? Wouldn’t that be something?”

I was there for him, to listen, to hold his hand, or to make a funny face that would turn his frown into a smile.

Sometimes Matt would enter his bedroom in high spirits. I longed for those nights when he’d shut off the lights and lie close beside me.

“Sweetness,” he would say, putting his arms around me. “You’re so pretty, Honey.” And then we’d kiss long, deep, passionate kisses, and his caresses would leave me weak with desire.

Nights when his mood was calm and peaceful, he would describe his ideal woman and tell me how perfectly I fit this image.

He liked soft-spoken y/hc with y/ec eyes. He wanted to mold me to his opinions and preferences. Despite his reputation for being a rebel, he held the traditional view of relationships. A woman had her place, and it was the man who took the initiative.

Loyalty was very important to him, especially on the woman’s part. He constantly reminded me that his girl had to be completely constant. He admitted that he was concerned about Nicole. She was a Boston beauty queen and television personality. Matt said that lately her letters had become very impersonal, and he suspected she had been with another man.

Despite his moralizing, I feared Matt wasn’t always faithful to me. His bantering with some of the other girls at his house made me think that he might be intimately familiar with them.

One evening he was playing the piano for the regular group, plus a couple of English girls. When he picked up his guitar, he looked around, but couldn’t seem to find his pick.

“Anybody seen my guitar pick?” he asked.

One of the English girls looked up and smiled. “It’s upstairs on the night table next to your bed. I’ll get it.”

All eyes, including mine, zeroed in on her as she made her way up the stairs, aware that she was now the center of attention.

Furious at his obvious betrayal, I turned to him, but he was avoiding my gaze by looking down at his guitar, plucking it as if it needed tuning. Then he burst into “Lawdy, Miss Clawdy.”

Without a pick, his fingers must have hurt badly, but no matter what, he wasn’t about to put that guitar down. He knew he was in trouble.

After he’d finished a medley of songs, Matt excused himself and retreated into the kitchen, with me right behind him.

“Have you been with her?” I demanded.

“No,” Matt insisted.

“Then how did she know where your guitar pick and room were?”

“She was over one night, and I mentioned how dirty the place was,” he answered, a boyish grin on his face. “She offered to clean it, simple as that.”

Despite his declaration of innocence, I was not reassured. He was the sexual idol of millions and could choose whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted. I quickly learned, for my own survival, not to ask too many questions.

As the weeks passed, school became an unbearable chore. After getting to bed so late, I found it difficult to rise at seven and almost impossible to concentrate. But I knew that if I ever complained about being too tired, or was late for school, my parents would use the fact to put a stop to my seeing Matt.

My study habits became worse. I was failing algebra and German, and barely passing history and English. At the end of the fall semester, I altered the D-minus grade on my report card to a B-plus, praying my father would never consult the teacher. I kept telling myself that I would do better, that I’d catch up, but my concentration was totally on Matt.

One night when I went to see him, I fell asleep while waiting for him to finish his karate class. When he came downstairs and saw how exhausted I was, he asked, “y/n, how many hours of sleep are you getting?”

After a second, I said, “About four or five hours a night. But I’ll be fine,” I added quickly. “I’m just a little extra tired tonight because we had some tests at school today.”

Matt looked thoughtful, and then said, “Come upstairs a minute. I have something for you.” He led me up to his room, where he placed a handful of small white pills in the palm of my hand. “I want you to take these; they’ll help you stay awake during the day. Just take one when you feel a little drowsy, no more than one, though, or you’ll be doing handstands down the hallway.”

“What are they?” I asked.

“You don’t need to know what they are; they give them to us when we go on maneuvers. If I didn’t have them, I’d never make it through the day myself. But it’s okay, they’re safe,” he told me. “Put them away and don’t tell anyone you have them, and don’t take them every day. Just when you need a little more energy.”

Matt honestly thought he was doing me a favor by giving me the pills, and I’m sure the thought never entered his mind that they could be harmful to him or me.

I didn’t take the pills. I put them in a small box with various items I had started to collect, such as cigar holders and little personal notes he had given me, and hid the box in a drawer.

Later I learned that the pills were Dexedrine, which Matt had first discovered in the Army. A sergeant had given several men pills to help them stay awake while on guard duty. Matt, who was accustomed to living the life of an entertainer and who despised rising at dawn, began taking the pills to get him through the long dreary hours of Army life. He told me he’d begun taking sleeping pills shortly before he’d been drafted. He dreaded insomnia and feared sleepwalking, which had plagued him periodically since childhood.

In fact, as a boy, he’d once sleepwalked straight out of his apartment, dressed only in his underwear. A neighbor woke him, and, embarrassed, he ran back into the house. Another time, he nearly fell out of a window. Consequently, to avoid accidents, he slept with his parents until he was grown, and he feared his sleepwalking habit for the rest of his life. It was one of the reasons he usually had someone sleeping with him.

Years later, I learned that someone had been employed in Germany to watch over him throughout the night.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - i know this was a deeper chapter so for anyone who skipped it i promise its not very important to the story however Priscilla included this in her book so i thought i should share that too. 🎀

#chris sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matthew sturn #matthew sturniolo #Spotify

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 10 months ago

Text

And I Know It's Sad, But This Is What I Think About

I'll Write Your Name Chapter 4

Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader

6.2k words

Warnings: Language, brief mentions of alcohol, spoilers for The Great Gatsby

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Thank you as always to @agentstarkid for being the best and reading all my silly love stories💕

After my third Richmond game, April and I found ourselves once again having dinner with the Greyhounds at Ola’s. This time, Roy Kent and I sat with some of the players, who I was pleased to watch flirt with April; my beautiful assistant and best friend deserved the attention of hot, rich athletes, I decided.

While flirting with professional soccer players seemed to come easy to April, it felt like Roy and I were still figuring out how to flirt with each other. We sat close enough that our shoulders were touching, I flashed him plenty of coy smiles, and he made a point to whisper in my ear every now and then- although it was usually something like “Can I fucking leave now?” But still, if we were going to convince people that this was real, we’d probably have to step things up soon.

I remembered something Keeley had texted me the day before- we needed another date, and soon.

“What’re you doing tomorrow?” I murmured, loud enough for only Kent to hear.

He grunted and shifted in his seat. “Why?” After I simply narrowed my eyes at him, he sighed. “Keeley texted you too, hmm?” He sighed, shoveling another bite into his mouth. “What were you thinking?”

I thought for a moment, trying to avoid something simple like dinner, where we’d have to talk to each other and act like two people who were interested in each other. “Want to go on a picnic? We could bring a couple of books. Wouldn’t have to say a word to each other.”

Roy blinked, clearly processing what I’d just said; I could practically hear gears whirring before he finally spoke. “Sounds fucking perfect.”

Satisfied that I’d done my part, I turned my attention back to my delicious meal; if I got nothing else out of this fake relationship, at least I’d be well-fed for the next few months.

“Hey there!” Keeley Jones plopped down on my other side, smiling broadly at me.

Suddenly very aware of the eyes of the team on me, the way they’d been the night I “met” Keeley the first time I visited Ola’s, I returned her smile with one of my own, going so far as to playfully bump her shoulder with mine.

“Thank you again for inviting us to sit with you and Rebecca,” I gushed, and I really meant it; if I was going to be hanging out at Nelson Road, it was nice to do so in a comfortable suite with champagne in my hand. “It was actually really fun.”

Keeley’s smile widened; it was warm and friendly and genuine, making it obvious why everyone seemed to adore her. “I’m so glad you enjoyed yourself! We’ll have to get you a Kent kit now, eh? I’ve got an old one you could have if you like.”

I swore Roy stiffened next to me. “That’s alright,” I assured her. “I think April was going to order one for me to wear to their next game.” I turned to Roy with a shrug. “Gotta look the part, right?”

Roy mumbled something about getting another beer and stood, pausing only to briefly touch my shoulder; I ignored how warm his touch was. Once he was gone, I turned my attention back to Keeley, whose eyes were following Roy with something that looked a lot like pity.

“How’re you two getting on?” she asked in a low voice, scooching closer.

The only response that felt right was a shrug. “It’s fine,” I murmured. “Definitely working on getting used to each other. Going from complete strangers to dating is… a unique way of getting to know someone.” She seemed to be waiting for me to continue, so I added, “We’re going on a picnic tomorrow. I told him we could bring a couple books, that way we don’t have to just stare at each other the whole time.”

The corner of Keeley’s mouth tugged upwards knowingly. “Now that is a perfect idea,” she said, eyes shifting back to Roy as he approached, beer in hand. “Absolutely perfect.”

“How’s here?”

Roy grunted in response and dropped the picnic basket to the ground. Ten minutes felt like far too long to look for the “perfect” picnic spot, but Keeley had been kind of specific; it needed to be a public enough spot that they would be seen, but secluded enough that it didn’t look like they were trying to be seen.

He was beginning to wish they’d just gone to the pub again; at least then he could have a pint.

Instead, he helped spread out the blanket they’d brought with them and opened up the picnic basket, the one Keeley had dropped off at his house early that morning and that his date- when the fuck would he have to start saying girlfriend?- had loaded with lunch and snacks. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of food she’d packed. Probably something trendy and vegan-y. Was she a vegan? Roy didn’t fucking know. But she was young and trendy and pretty and-

“Here.” She shoved something wrapped in white paper into his hands. “Should we eat first?”

Roy gingerly unwrapped the bundle, immediately recognizing its contents. “Is this a fucking kebab?”

She shrugged, already chomping on a bite of her own kebab. “Yeah. That a problem?”

Ignoring the annoyance in her voice, Roy took a bite; fuck, he’d know that flavor anywhere. “Where’d you get this?”

“That kebab place you like.” Her tone was casual, as if it didn’t matter. “I asked Keeley what you like, she sent me the address.” After eating another bite, she shrugged. “The owner asked me to bring in a headshot next time, said he’d give me free kebabs for life.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Roy’s grip tightened on his kebab; he ate there at least once a week and still was never given so much as a discount. But she goes in once and gets kebabs for life? Fucking hell. Well, at least he’d get to take advantage for the next few months. Maybe he would benefit from this charade after all.

Still munching on her kebab, she reached into the bag she’d brought and pulled out a book, settling herself into a comfortable position before opening it. Roy took the hint and grabbed his own book out of the picnic basket, a murder mystery his sister had given him for his birthday. He glanced up over the top of his book to get a glimpse of what she was reading.

“The Great Gatsby?” he asked, raising his thick eyebrows.

She nodded, her gaze still on her book. “It’s my favorite,” she said simply. After a moment, her eyes flickered up to meet Roy’s. “I try to read it every year.”

Not sure why he was still talking, Roy sat up a little straighter. “Every year? I mean, yeah, it’s a fucking good book, but why would you read it every fucking year?”

“It’s… familiar.” She set the book down, now fully looking at Roy. “Everyone is desperate to be at Gatsby’s parties, to be surrounded by his wealth and glamor, to drink his booze and enjoy his hospitality.” She frowned, eyes flittering back to the book. “But then only a handful of people attend his funeral. Once the party is over, no one cares about him anymore.” She looked back at Roy. “That’s going to be me, isn’t it?”

Roy was speechless. Something about the softness in her eyes was so familiar, almost like looking in a mirror. That’s going to be me, isn’t it? How many times had Roy mumbled something just as cynical and broken? How many people- reporters, women, friends, even family- had stopped calling once he slowed down? How many more once he stepped off the field for the last time? In her eyes Roy could see the same dejection and fear of loneliness that had nestled itself inside Roy’s chest these last few years. It was something hard to explain, something one could only understand if they’d felt it deep in their souls. And it seemed to be something they both shared.

But instead of admitting to understanding how she felt and allowing her to glimpse behind his scowls and hard expressions, Roy simply shifted on the blanket and bit off his lunch. “Fucking hell. Are you always some fucking tortured poet, sunshine?”

Her face faltered for only a fraction of a second, but it was long enough for Roy to want to kick himself for ruining the moment. She quickly recovered, picking her book back up and burying herself back into Jay Gatsby’s empty affluence. “Read your fucking book, Kent,” she mumbled, flipping a page absently. “There’s a photographer in those bushes.”

Sure enough, when Roy glanced around out of the corner of his eye, he could just make out the familiar sight of a camera lens.

“So, how’s it going with Roy Kent?”

Lanie looked perky as we sat in her office. My guard was immediately up; a perky publicist was never a good sign, I’d learned. It usually meant they had something rotten to tell you.

Anticipating whatever it was, I slouched into my seat, ready to narrow my eyes or scowl at a moment’s notice. “It’s fine,” I mumbled. “Keeley Jones said our picnic date got a lot of positive attention, and she said the Greyhounds’ viewership has skyrocketed since I started attending matches. So, it looks like we’re doing our jobs pretty well. Is my press looking good?”

Lanie nodded, eyes on her phone. “Good, good,” she said absently, as if she wasn’t really listening.

“Lanie?” I called.

She looked back up at me. “Well, with the Roy Kent stuff, you’ve got plenty of attention, and it looks like people are excited to see you in a new relationship, especially with someone who looks like him.” She ignored the way I wrinkled my nose. “But, uh, this morning I got wind of something that might take a little attention away from you and Roy.” She handed me her phone with a grimace.

The photo was kind of blurry, but I knew the two figures immediately. Everett- my most recent ex- nuzzling close to Cameron, the woman who had once called herself my best friend until she found out that a boyfriend of hers hit on me. Even though I had clearly rebuffed him and told Cam right away, she very publicly ended our friendship and even more publicly accused me of trying to steal her man. And now, irony of ironies, there she was, attached to my ex-boyfriend like the leech Lanie had always warned me she was.

“Lovely,” I finally snorted, gingerly handing the phone back to Lanie. “Do we think it’s real or just for attention? I know Cam’s new show starts filming soon.”

Lanie rolled her eyes. “Please, they’re not clever enough to pull off something calculated. If anything, he’s trying to make you jealous and she’s trying to get revenge on you. Idiots.” She sighed and dropped her phone onto the coffee table. “But, of course, your name’s being dragged into it. The phrase ‘love triangle’ has been trending on Twitter all morning.”

“Gross.”

“Agreed.” Lanie rolled her neck, something she often did when she was stressed. “I’ve been on the phone with Keeley this morning, and we both agree it’s time to step things up with you and Roy. Go public, make things official. Attend an event together that’s not a Richmond dinner.”

How much further could I slouch before I ended up lying down on the couch? “What event did you guys have in mind?”

“Your annual fabulous karaoke party!”

Keeley Jones strutted into the office with Roy right behind her. She greeted Lanie and I each with friendly hugs and kisses on cheeks; Roy, on the other hand, opted for short nods to each of us. Lanie stood and motioned for Roy to take her seat beside me; we shuffled awkwardly to ensure our knees wouldn’t bump.

Once we were all settled, I turned to Keeley, who now stood next to Lanie. “My karaoke party?” I echoed, feeling my stomach churn.

The “party” was the main fundraiser I threw every year for my nonprofit back home; it was near and dear to my heart, incredibly personal, and my favorite night of the year.

And now I’d have to share it with Roy Kent.

Sensing my unease, Lanie smiled at me, one of her reassuring smiles, the kind she always had for me after a bad bit of press. “It’ll be great publicity,” she pointed out. “You’ll probably raise even more than you did last year. Can you imagine how many people will register for the livestream? Especially if he sings,” she added, pointing at Roy.

“Sing?” the manager practically spat. “I have to sing at this party?”

With a sigh that even I knew was overdramatic, I turned to look at him, taking in his scowl and furrowed brow. “It’s a karaoke party,” I explained slowly, remembering how condescending he’d been the very first time we’d spoken in front of the elevator at Keeley’s office. “People pay a pretty penny for a ticket, there’s a paid livestream of all the singing, and I always release a new song, with all the proceeds going to my nonprofit. It’s… kind of a big deal.”

When Roy frowned, I could practically see the gears turning in his head as he processed this new information. After a moment of silence, he opened his mouth. “You should invite some of the guys. They’d definitely fucking sing.”

Keeley bounced happily at Roy’s suggestion. “That would be perfect! And it would really show the two of you becoming part of each other’s worlds too.” She quickly tapped at her phone, somehow lighting up even brighter. “And it’s a bye week for them!” She shot me a wink. “Looks like the universe is really lining things up for us, hmm?”

All I could do was smile weakly, my mind spinning from learning about my ex-boyfriend and ex-friend becoming an item and finding out that I’d have to spend my favorite night of the year with a man who had barely glanced at me since that night we played darts together. I made up my mind to ask Lanie if my reputation really needed this much help or if she, as usual, was overreacting. Just as soon as Roy and Keeley left, I decided. Surely, with the numbers my upcoming tour sales was doing, along with the amount of people already signed up for the fundraiser’s livestream, and with all this social media attention, could dating a former soccer star turned grumpy coach really help that much?

“Oi, sunshine, your place or mine?”

Sunshine. Roy’s gruff use of the name he’d mumbled during our picnic had me snapping back to attention, out of my planned objections to my publicist. I stared at Roy blankly, trying to imagine what in the hell I’d missed that had him prompting what I thought he might be prompting- especially in front of his ex-girlfriend.

“She was zoning out,” Lanie quickly explained as she threw an M&M at me, her usual way of bringing me back to attention. “We want you two to have a sleepover,” she said loudly, as if she was repeating herself- which she probably was. “Something simple and domestic. Something you can post on your socials so continue this little soft launch. Something to help make things believable.”

Roy nodded. “Keeley says just being seen in public isn’t enough to make it seem real. We’ve got to really sell this shit.” He scowled at me. “So, your place or mine?”

Okay, so that made a lot more sense than what I’d feared he was asking me. “My place,” I said, clearing my throat. “You can come over to my place.”

Roy let out a low growl as he pulled up to the front gate of the address on his phone. He quickly punched in the gate code she’d sent him, relieved he didn’t have to call her to let him in, and drove up the short driveway.

Her house wasn’t what he’d imagined; with the money he- and the rest of the world- knew she was worth, Roy’d figured she lived in a fucking castle or some modern monstrosity. Instead, he walked in the moonlight to the door of a sweet two-story house, blinking as he read the doormat that declared “There’s no place like home”. He heaved his duffel bag over his shoulder and sharply knocked on the door, sucking his breath between his teeth. Another step in this weird, weird fucking situation he found himself in.

When the door opened, Roy instinctively took a step back, forcing himself to look her in the eye. She nodded curtly to him, gesturing for him to enter the house. “Kent,” was her simple greeting.

He returned the curt reception with a grunt of his own and followed her inside and into her sitting room, marveling at how the house did not match his expectations. He’d figured it would be something like Keeley’s place, all bright and pink and stylish with fluffy pillows everywhere. But everything was simple and cozy, and there were a lot more photos than he expected. Her family, he assumed, as his eyes lingered on a photo of her with a couple of pre-teen kids. In one corner was a piano, one he figured she used a lot, and one wall was completely covered with a bookshelf, which housed a large and clearly well-used library. It reminded Roy a bit of his own place if he was being honest. Simple, homey, and probably a refuge from a life lived in the public eye.

Before he could ask about the framed drawing that was clearly done by a child around Pheobe’s age, something brushed against Roy’s leg. “What the fuck?” he bellowed, looking down to see a cat staring back up at him.

“That’s Sydney,” his host explained, picking up the animal. “Syd, say hi to Roy.” She kissed the top of the cat’s head. “Apparently we need to get used to him,” she stage-whispered into the cat’s fur.

Roy snorted as he focused his gaze on the cat. He could almost appreciate the sarcasm in her voice- almost. Instead, he gestured to his duffel bag. “Where can I set this down? Are you sticking me in the backyard, or do I have to sleep in my car?”

With something resembling a smirk on her lips, she set the cat down and once again beckoned for Roy to follow her. “I’ve got a guest room,” she assured him as she led him down the hall. She let Roy enter the room alone, choosing to linger in the hallway and watch him drop his bag to the floor. She cleared her throat as the cat- Sydney- caught up with them. “I ordered a pizza,” she mumbled, shifting her weight. “We could, I don’t fucking know, watch a movie or something until, well...”

Right. Fucking sleepover. “Yeah, sounds fine,” Roy muttered, staring at the cat. He’d probably spend most of his night looking at the animal, he realized. “I’m just gonna… throw on some fucking sweats. If that’s alright.”

She nodded, her cool demeanor reappearing. “Do your thing,” she said airily. “Let me know if you need anything.” After giving Roy a firm, businesslike nod, she was gone.

With a shake of his head, Roy quickly threw on some sweats and a t-shirt, trying not to put too much thought into what the evening ahead held. Was this really necessary? Did the other fake couples Keeley knew- which she assured him was quite a few- have to go to such lengths? Knowing Keeley, she was probably just trying to push Roy’s buttons, see how far she could take this shit before Roy snapped.

But again, he was trying to prove to her that he was willing to go above and beyond for her. Anything for Keeley, he reminded himself as he trudged back into the sitting room.

He plopped himself down on the couch, where Sydney the Cat was already perched and watching Roy with narrowed cat eyes. Jamie had once compared Roy to a cat during a team dinner, he remembered. Not very social, easy to annoy, but incredibly loyal and affectionate once they decided to let someone in. Keeley had found the comparison hilarious and proceeded to call Roy “Fluffy” for the rest of the night. He chuckled to himself at the memory; he should send Keeley a picture of Sydney and let her know he remembered the joke. He always remembered Keeley’s jokes.

As he reached for his mobile, a voice came from the direction of what he assumed was the kitchen. “You eat pepperoni, right? I forgot to ask.”

The most glamorous popstar in the world strolled back into the sitting room holding a cardboard box in her hands with two bottles of beer balanced on top. Instead of her usual dresses or fashionable outfits Roy and the rest of the world was used to seeing her in, she wore a particularly tiny pair of sleep shorts and a Greyhounds sweatshirt- the one Roy had seen her wear to their matches lately.

Roy wasn’t blind. He knew she was a stunning woman, whether she was on an album cover or, apparently, in her pyjamas. And if he’d bothered to give the matter even two seconds of thought, he would’ve noted that he rather liked her figure, especially when she looked so comfortable and domestic. But Roy couldn’t think about that. Not when he heard Keeley’s name come out of her mouth.

“Keeley said to make sure we both post on our socials,” she was saying, either missing or ignoring the way Roy’s eyes lingered for a moment too long on her bare legs. “Why I couldn’t just send you something to post is beyond me.” She set the pizza down on the coffee table and plopped onto the couch, a respectable distance from Roy’s spot. “Like, is you coming over really, truly necessary?”

Roy snorted and made himself busy with a beer. “I was thinking the same thing,” he admitted. “But Keeley’s always got a method to her fucking madness. You learn to just fucking go with it.” Deciding he needed to look at something that wasn’t the way she was stretching out comfortably on her couch, Roy stood abruptly and meandered over to her bookshelf. “You read a lot?” he said, scanning her collection more closely now.

“When I can,” came her breezy answer. “I’d love to say I’ve read everything on that shelf, but that’s mostly a collection of books I want to read.”

“Maybe we can do more reading dates.” Roy didn’t know what the fuck made him say that; it just slipped out as he stared at a particularly worn copy of The Bell Jar. When he glanced over his shoulder, he was surprised to see a smile on her face.

She shrugged and sipped her own beer. “Sure, Kent. Sounds good.”

Ignoring whatever feeling was forming in his chest, Roy returned to the shelf, recognizing some names and finding himself curious about others. Finally, he spotted a stack of games on the bottom shelf. He noted that there were about four versions of the same game. “You like Scrabble?” he blurted out, desperate to put distance between himself and his picnic suggestion.

“Love it,” she laughed. “When my parents came to the States from Mexico, they were each pretty young and worked really hard to learn English. They wanted to make sure all of their kids were fluent in English, so in our house we were always reading and playing games like Scrabble.” Her smile became a smirk. “My youngest brother refuses to play with me anymore because I kind of win a lot.”

The competitive streak that made Roy a football legend started to bubble up in his chest. “That so?” He picked up one of the boxes and brought it over to the coffee table. “Let’s see, then.”

“You can’t put that word!” I cackled, throwing my head back when I saw the word Roy was putting on the board.

Roy smirked and put the ‘C�� down with finality. “I absolutely fucking can. And I did so…” He shrugged. “Gimme my points, sunshine.”

After updating Roy’s score, I snapped a photo of the board. “That’s going on Instagram,” I warned him with a smirk. I quickly shared the picture and put my phone down, trusting that Lanie would text me later about the post blowing up.

We finished one game, then another, and started a third. We didn’t talk much, but it didn’t feel as awkward as those first few dinners with the Greyhounds. Sydney laid close to Roy, clearly already used to him, and I couldn’t deny the warm feeling in my chest when I saw him absently stroke her fur between turns. Maybe we’ll be friends, I thought fondly as I put down the tiles for my latest turn. Real, actual friends.

“Calamitous?” Roy read, wrinkling his nose. “What the fuck is calamitous? Is that even a word?”

I smirked and sipped my beer. “It absolutely is!” I stood and strolled over to my bookshelf, returning with the Scrabble dictionary my sister had given me a couple years ago. “Look it up.”

After shooting me a suspicious look, Roy flipped through the book; his scowl told me he had indeed found calamitous.

“It’s a good word,” I said as I sat back down. “One of my favorites. I’ve just been waiting for the right time to put it in a song.”

His gaze turned thoughtful as he stared at his letter tiles. “You written anything lately?” Before I could answer, he opened his mouth again. “You said something about a song for your fundraiser thing. It’s a new one, right?”

I nodded, squirming a bit as I thought about the song, one I’d been pouring a lot of myself into. “Yeah. I always release a new song after the party.” My eyes fell so Sydney, curled up close to Roy. “Want to hear a bit?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

His almost silly answer was enough to get me to my feet and retrieving my guitar from the extra room I often worked in. When I came back, Roy sat up straight, his gaze trained on my guitar as I settled on the couch.

“It’s called ‘Nothing New’,” I explained as I began to strum my guitar. “Here’s the chorus.”

Lord, what will become of me

Once I've lost my novelty?

I've had too much to drink tonight

And I know it's sad, but this is what I think about

And I wake up in the middle of the night

It's like I can feel time moving

How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?

And will you still want me when I'm nothing new?

When I finally looked at Roy, his mouth was agape, and he was blinking rapidly.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered. “That’s good. That’s really fucking good.” He shook his head. “Reminds me of that shit you said the other day, about Gatsby and funerals and all that.” He sighed, a heavy, sad sound, and his voice was almost impossible to hear. “Fucking reminds me of me.”

I didn’t know what to say to that; I vaguely knew the story of Roy’s injury, the one that ended his career, and Dani had said something about it taking a while for Roy to find his way back to Richmond after his retirement. But I didn’t think Roy was the kind of person who liked to talk about anything, let alone what was probably the worst time in his life. So instead, I watched him stare stonily at my silent guitar, not saying a word when he stood abruptly, something I was quickly getting used to seeing.

“I should fucking sleep,” he mumbled, taking care to grab a couple of empty bottles. “Gotta be out of here early for training. Thanks for the pizza. And the beer.” He nodded to my guitar. “And the song.” After nudging Sydney gently with his foot, Roy turned on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen; I didn’t move from my spot until I heard the guest room door shut with finality.

Roy sighed as he sat down in front of the assembled reporters, all waiting to pounce on him after a hard-earned Greyhound victory. As always, Keeley stood in the back of the room, an encouraging smile on her face, the kind of smile that always gave Roy the strength to tackle what was probably his least favorite part of the job.

He answered several questions about the match- probably one of their best of the season, if he was being honest with himself- before the topic he was dreading finally reared its head.

“Coach Kent,” some wanker from a publication Roy couldn’t be bothered to remember called out, “care to say anything about the rumors concerning your latest fling?”

Instinctively, Roy bared his teeth and squared his shoulders before leaning forward, ready to growl out, “No.” However, a raised eyebrow from Keeley had him taking a deep breath; she’d trained him for this, he reminded himself. He knew what he was supposed to say. “We’re just… spending time together,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “It’s been… nice, getting to know each other.” When he looked at Keeley, she was giving him a big thumbs up; it was enough to have him continue. “She’s different than I expected,” he added, nodding more to himself than anyone else.

“How’d you two meet?”

He coughed into his hand; he knew how to answer this, too. “She’s good friends with Dani Rojas,” he explained, wondering if it sounded as rehearsed as it felt. “So, she came to a match and then came out with the team afterwards. We danced a little, and then she gave me her phone number.” Again, Keeley smiled encouragingly. “It’s been kind of fucking cool, having her at our matches. She’s really embraced the Richmond way.” That last bit was something Keeley had come up with; normally, Roy would think it sounded incredibly lame and positively cheesy. But, since Keeley was the mastermind, he didn’t complain one bit.

Another reporter spoke up. “Will you be at her upcoming fundraiser? The karaoke party is legendary.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Roy answered with what he hoped was a good-natured smirk. “Get enough drinks in me, I might even fucking sing.” For a brief moment, the chuckles that filled the room reminded Roy of how this room sounded when Ted was there; he hadn’t realized he actually missed that sound.

“Have you heard her new song?” The voice was hopeful, as if Roy was about to give everyone a big scoop, let the sports reporters have something the gossip columnists would kill for.

For the first time since the press conference began, Roy’s smile was real. “I’ve heard a little,” he admitted. “And I won’t tell you a fucking thing, except that it’s fucking brilliant.”

Roy maneuvered around a few more questions- Would she be attending more Richmond matches? (“Hopefully.”) Would Roy be going to any of the shows during her upcoming tour. (“We’ll see.”) Who won their Scrabble tournament? (“No fucking comment.”)- before he was finally set free. He and Keeley reconvened in his office, making sure no one else was around before assessing how Roy’s first official acknowledgement of the “relationship” had gone.

“You did a great job,” Keeley assured him from her perch on the edge of his desk, a spot she’d taken countless times. “Might be the most charming I’ve ever seen you at a presser, Roy. Looks like she’s really rubbing off on you.” Her wink had Roy’s insides squirming. “Did you really hear the song already?”

“Yeah,” Roy mumbled, slouching in his seat. “She played some for me the other night, during our sleepover.” He surprised even himself by not rolling his eyes at the word sleepover. “It’s fucking sad,” he continued, completely unprompted. “But really beautiful. Nothing like the fluffy stuff you hear on the radio.”

Keeley gently tossed a stray paperclip at Roy. “Oi, I like her fluffy stuff! And so does Phoebe, I might add.” Her smile widened. “Your niece wants to know when you’re introducing her to your girlfriend, by the way. It’s all she talked about at our last Pheebs and Keels Day.”

Roy shook his head. “Oh no,” he scoffed, folding his arms. “Not fucking happening. Last thing I need is for her to get attached. Look what happened with-”

Fuck.

The smile disappeared from Keeley’s face. “Right,” she said quietly, looking down at her hands. “Yeah, might not be the best idea, eh?” After a moment, she perked up again, reigniting the energy in the room. “Have you two kissed yet?”

“What the fuck Keeley?” Roy hissed, looking around the obviously empty office; she’d sure recovered quickly from the awkward moment he’d caused.

She shrugged, clearly unfazed. “You’re officially together and are starting to go out in public as a couple. It’ll look funny if you don’t start being affectionate soon. I figured maybe you two’d gotten it out of the way already, so your first kiss isn’t in front of the cameras."

Shit. Roy hadn’t even started to think about how they’d act now that things were “official”. Had she?

“Don’t fucking worry about it,” Roy mumbled, wondering why he was blushing so furiously. “I’m a forty-year-old man, Keeley. I know how to kiss a woman.”

“Yeah, but she’s not just any woman,” Keeley pointed out as she stood. “Just something to think about.” She paused, studying Roy’s face carefully. “You really did do a good job in there, Roy. I almost believed you for a second, smiling and blushing as you gushed about that gorgeous girl.” Her smile returned, completely full of mischief. “Anything you want to share?”

Roy narrowed his eyes at his ex and threw the paper clip she’d tossed at him earlier. “Fuck off, Keeley,” was all he managed before the giggling blonde strutted out of the office. He looked down at his phone to check where the guys would be going after the match; after all, he was expected to be there with-

“Hey there!”

Roy looked up at the sound of Keeley’s cheery voice. His “girlfriend” came into view, smiling tightly at Keeley as they squeezed by each other through the doorway. The popstar saluted as she entered the office.

“Hey, Kent,” she hummed, pausing by the door and leaning against the frame. “I was thinking, want to ride to the restaurant together?”

He heard what she said. He knew he had. But the only thing he could focus on was her mouth, the same mouth that had left lipstick marks on his cheek and had formed a smile when she won two Scrabble games in a row. The same mouth he’d have to kiss soon. He’d kissed plenty of women; hell, he’d more than kissed plenty of women. And those were kisses he’d actually meant.

So why the fuck did his palms feel sweaty at the thought of fake-kissing this woman?

“Kent? Kent?”

Oh fucking hell, she’d caught him staring.

Roy cleared his throat and stood up, pocketing his mobile. “Alright, yeah. Let’s go.”

She narrowed her eyes at him as they walked out of the office. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I’m fucking fine.” Roy’s hand balled into a fist at his side as he fought the urge to clear his throat again.

“Okay then.” They walked silently down the hall, looking nothing at all like a couple in love. Finally, she bumped him with her shoulder. “Saw your press conference,” she said, her voice light and teasing.

Roy nodded, wondering if his face looked as warm as it felt. “What’d you think?”

When he glanced at her, she was staring straight ahead- and smiling. “You told them you liked the song.” Her voice could only be described as pleased.

“Well, yeah,” Roy mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s the truth. It’s… it’s really fucking good. I can’t wait to hear the rest.”

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. Finally, she looked at him, her face serious now. “Hey, there’s some reporters hanging around outside. D’you think we should hold hands or something?”

Roy’s eyes flickered down to her outstretched hand before returning to her face; she gazed at him with raised eyebrows, waiting for his answer.

“Probably a good idea,” he murmured. With that, he took her hand in his, giving it a small squeeze as they walked out of the Dog Track.

He kept her hand in his as they walked through the parking lot; while his eyes stayed trained on his giant black car, she smiled sweetly at the couple of reporters who called their names and even offered a small wave in their direction. Roy held her door open and helped her climb inside, closing the door once she was settled. Once he was in the driver’s seat, he resisted the urge to grab her hand; old habit from dating Keeley, he told himself.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why his hand felt so cold without her fingers intertwined with his.

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten@ladygrey03@book-of-roses@thatonedogwithablog@misshall14@wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff@akornsworld@itswhateveripromise@purecinnamonextract@oceanncurrent@dearvoidgoodnight@hopefulromances@respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog@hotleaf-juice@emmy2811@captainorbust-blog@preciousbabypeter@shion-ah@royalestrellas@eugene-emt-roe@littleesilvia@teenwolf01@sisinever@yagotgames@queen-of-the-downtown-scene @emmaallisonann @mrdsturd @confessionsofatotaldramaslut

#roy kent i'll write your name #roy kent iwyn #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine #ted lasso fanfiction

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middlingmay · 1 month ago

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German Gale AU Part 5

Links to Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

The story of John’s return becomes something of a legend around Thorpe Abbotts.

Downed and presumed dead, he comes storming back onto base, interrupting a meeting between the brass without a single ounce of shame or hesitation, and demands a favour from a Colonel who barely knew him before he was shot down.

When they hear what happened, they immediately pull Bucky into interrogation, but he kicks up a storm, refuses to say anything to anyone until they find out what happened to Gale. Says they can go ahead and throw him in lock up when they’re desperate for good pilots in the middle of the war, but he won’t fuckin’ budge.

Harding had heard of Egan from Huglin, and none of it had been complimentary. But after he went down, the men shared stories which painted a much different picture: a man quick with a joke, a drink, and a good time. He knew how to lift spirits. He had the backs of all the men in the 100th that he could, even against COs (a likely reason for the poor reports from Huglin).

So he’s kind of taken a liking to Egan before he meets the man. But when Egan barges in demanding a favour with all the authority of a Colonel, it’s pretty much confirmed.

He has a friend in the Office of Strategic Services, who has a friend in the British Special Operations Executive. And Harding calls a favour in up the train. But he only gets so far before a door is firmly snapped shut in his face.

“What do you mean to OSS have him? What, like in prison?”

There’s something mildly hysterical to Egan’s tone, and something sharp in his eyes, and Harding has to hasten to reassure him that if Gale was in prison, they would have just told him.

“It’s far more likely they’ve recruited him,” he assures Egan. “But it’s not like they’ll confirm that either way.”

That doesn’t make it better.

“You mean they’ll fucking send him back?!”

Harding allows the slip, just once, because he doesn’t know what Egan went through when he went down but the docs had told him that Egan bore some nasty marks of one hell of a beating.

“Major Egan!” It’s the most reluctant stand to attention he’s ever received. “There’s nothing you, me, or even my superiors can do. Other than do the job we came here to do. Am I clear?”

There are several beats of silence, and then: “Yes, sir.”

In the absence of John Brady (and Benny and Crank and Murph and Ham and so many more), Crosby and Rosie become a bit of a lifeline for him. Crosby, well used to his moods and highs and lows, reads him like a book and helps direct his energies to where they’re needed.

Rosie however is the one who keeps him from delving too deeply into the bottle. He likes long talks and aimless walks and appreciates things like sunsets and flowers. When all John wants to do is bite and bark and drink until he passes out, Rosie is placid and implacable. And when John gets the look in his eye like he’s finally about to push back against this relative stranger, Rosie reminds him that he flew Munster. And John is not alone in surviving when so much else was lost.

Out of all of them, Ken is the most excited to see him. He orders the ground crew to pay special attention to John’s new fort, oversees the final checks himself, and hovers at John’s shoulder when he inspects her.

When John tells him he’s certain the bird won’t be the reason he goes down again, Ken beams and slaps him on the shoulder before running off.

They’re accompanied by the fighters now, and their losses int he air reduce dramatically, and John tries not to get too furious about it, about the fact it took them so long to decide they’re worth protecting.

They drop bombs and hit targets, and the months drag on, and John never forgets about a blonde haired, blue-eyed German fella who looks like he belongs in the movies, but risked everything to get him back on friendly soil. On the worse days, not even Rosie and Crosby can pull him away from his quart of whiskey.

One day after more than a quart, John is nursing a rather brutal hangover when his name is yelled during mail call.

He thinks it’s a mistake but a very slim letter with precise script is placed down in front of him.

It’s not writing he recognises. He opens it.

John. A friend told me where I could find you. I hope you can forgive the delay in writing to you. Unfortunately, I’m travelling at the moment, so I have no return address. But I just wanted to let you know I’m still thinking of you, and I hope we will see each other again, when everything ends. With affection, Gail.

John buries his face in that letter. He sleeps with it under his pillow at night and keeps it in a pocket close to his heart during the day. He reads it over and over and the guys tease him over his secret girl he’s never said a word about.

“Tell us about her, Bucky!” They jeer. “Yeah, tell us!”

So he tells them about a long-legged, blonde beauty. With eyes like the morning sky, full lips, and a waist a fella just wanted to grab. He tells them about a heart as big as a B-17—bigger—and a brave woman who stands up for what she believes in. And who helps others when she can.

“She sounds like a keeper, sir!”

It makes John smile sad and rueful. “Yeah, she does.”

#german gale au #clegan #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #mota #mota au #german!gale

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ivyyisbored22 · 4 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭— 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐅

Note: Check Description and other chapters first to understand the story ^^♡

Chapter 5

Aria

It's been a month since I got married, I didn't properly speak to Chris after that moment in the kitchen that morning, just occasional Good Mornings and Hi's whenever he passed by. For 4 weeks he had been ignoring my presence, the only reason why I'm still alive in this huge ass mansion was because of Deliah's company.

I tried my best within these weeks to try to talk to Chris, but he didn't even bother, he claimed he was busy or arrived home late every night. Pain stung in my chest. I don't know why I still had unwanted hope running in my heart, knowing he'll be himself when he's home and we're only pretending to be people we truly aren't when we're are in front of judging eyes.

I had enough of his bullshit and needed air, I grabbed my handbag and exited his mansion, hoping to find some peace outside of these walls. I called one of my close friends, Leia, she answered after a few rings.

"Hey baby girl" Her voice was warm and cheerful, a stark contrast to my own. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions.

"Hey babe, you free today?" I asked, hoping to see her. She sadly missed my wedding as she was having a book tour in Europe, her debut book was a huge success after finally publishing it last year.

"Sure I am, wanna grab boba?" I chuckled behind the phone, "Absolutely"

"Send your loc, be there in about 15. See ya" She assured before hanging up. I sent her the location to Chris's mansion and waited for her to come. Even though I was all alone in here, I did roam around the enormous gardens and other places of this mansion and even took a swim in the pool, all while Chris wasn't at home.

I got down the small steps and walked to the infinity pool in the back, I spotted Daniel, he turned to me as soon as he saw me standing and raised a gentle hand smiling softly. I waved back at him, returning the smile, turning around to inhale the fresh of the autumn morning.

The sound of a car honk pulled me out of my reverie, I turned to see Leia's car approaching the gate. Relief washed over me as she parked and stepped out, her smile as radiant as ever.

"Aria! Baby girl I missed you tons" she called out, rushing towards me. We embraced tightly, her warmth and familiar scent instantly comforting me.

"Leia, it's so good to see you," I murmured, trying to keep my voice steady.

She pulled back and looked at me, concern etched on her face. "You look like you've been through the wringer. Let's get that boba and you can tell me everything." We headed to her car, and soon we were driving through the city towards our favorite boba tea spot.

The familiar sights of the city and the anticipation of spending time with Leia helped ease some of the tension I'd been carrying. We reached the best boba spot in the city and placed our orders and sat down at a comfy spot, I finally felt like I was out of a prison.

"Alright, so spill the tea, what's up"

I took a deep breath and told her everything meeting Chris for the first time and how he didn't look so intimidating. The night before the wedding, the contract and how he's been avoiding me for the past weeks and that little incident in the kitchen. He told me no one should know about the contract but fuck it. It was driving me insane.

"Wait. So this guy had you SIGN a contract BEFORE you exchanged your vows? What in the God's name is this madness?!" Her eyes kept widening as I kept talking, she was finally updated about everything.

I nodded, feeling a mix of frustration and helplessness. "Yeah. It was all part of the agreement. And, it's only valid for a year" I said, looking down at my boba, unable to meet her eyes.

"And you agreed to this?" She shook her head in disbelief.

I hesitated for a second, then added "I had to. I didn't have a choice. After my last relationship, you know how my parents said they will get me married. And Chris's father somehow has blackmailed him or some bullshit," I caught a breath, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I didn't want this marriage and neither did he. But now I feel like I walked into trap and I'm unable to escape."

She tilted her head, "How did you meet him?" I looked up from the table, remembering when I met his father before I met Chris.

"You know my father works as head accountant for Aurelius and is well known among Mr.Bang's top employees," I told her how the CEO personally met with my parents and and convinced them into arranging this marriage. My parents were thrilled. They saw it as a golden opportunity for me, a way to secure my future.

After breaking up with my ex, a betrayal I never saw coming, I didn't want to wait for "my one" anyway. But this...this wasn't exactly what I envisioned either.

I wanted stability, but not at the cost of my own happiness. I could see the concern etched on her face as she listened to me recount the events leading up to this point.

Leia's hand gently touched mine, her eyes soften with sympathy. I looked at her trying to brush away the tears and thankfully this time I had control over them.

"Baby girl this isn't right. Even if whatever this hell is only for a year, you must speak to him" Her hand squeezed mine, her voice firm yet filled with compassion.

I nodded slowly, grateful for her presence. She was one of the fewest people I trusted and vented to, the first being my mother. I didn't have the heart to burden my mother that my marriage wasn't even a happily ever after. Chris's mansion was an hour drive from my mom's place. With the crazy traffic in the States, there's no way I could go and come back alone and also the fact that the driver only works for him.

Besides I can't leave without informing Chris anyway.

"You deserve clarity, Aria," Leia affirmed, her gaze unwavering. "You deserve to know where you stand and what this marriage really means."

She leaned forward, her eyes locked onto mine. "But more than this. You deserve someone who truly loves you, not someone bound by a contract."

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away. "I know, Leia. I just... I don't know what to do. Part of me wants to break free, but another part of me feels like there's something worth fighting for."

Her squeeze around my hand tightened, "Whatever you decide, I'm here for you. Always."

We finished our boba tea in silence, lost in our own thoughts. I felt a renewed sense of determination building within me. As we left the café and Leia drove me back to the mansion, my mind crawled with thoughts on what I had to do.

When we arrived, we shared a tight hug and I watched Leia drive away before heading inside. But when I entered, I wasn't expecting the stoic, cold heir to be home by noon. I thought he'll come home late like usual.

My heart pounded hard in my chest as he was sitting on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, scowling and scrolling his phone. When I entered the hall, he laid his phone. I looked at him and headed to the stairs, when his rough voice called out my name.

"Where were you?" Irritation crawled up my skin. He didn't give a shit about me before, why does he care now?

"Somewhere with a friend" I said without looking at him, clenching my bag as I heard footsteps behind me.

"Somewhere? Where exactly? Don't you think you should tell me before you wander in the streets with someone?"

I turned to him glaring as he stood so close to me, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why does it matter to you, Chris? You've been avoiding me for weeks. You barely acknowledge my existence and presence in this house unless it's absolutely necessary. Now suddenly why do you want to know where I've been?"

His jaw clenched at the tone of my voice. I didn't care if I pissed him off. His expression was unreadable, his eyes were burning fire as he glared back at me, I was sure that stare itself could burn upto a thousand degrees.

"I have every right to know where my wife is."

I scoffed. "Oh, now I'm your wife?" I retorted, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice. "Funny how you remember that only when it's convenient for you."

"Don't speak me to me in that tone" He warned me. I took a step back, my hand clenched the strap of my bag more tightly.

I squared my shoulders, refusing to back down. "Or what, Chris? What are you going to do? Ignore me some more?"

His nostrils flared, his patience clearly wearing thin. "You know what, Aria? This attitude of yours isn't helping."

"Oh, I'm sorry. So now my attitude is the problem?" I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe if you actually talked to me instead of treating me like a stranger, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Chris took a step closer, his voice low and controlled. "I've been trying to give you space, Aria. That's what we both needed."

"Space?" I scoffed again, my frustration reaching its peak. "Is that what you call it? Ignoring me? Avoiding any real conversation? That's not space, Chris. That's avoidance."

"I fucking told you not to have any expectations of me. This is who I am alright? If you find this behaviour annoying, you shouldn't have agreed to this in the first place" His voice was thick, filled with anger as he growled at me, I began shaking, trying to stop myself from falling down.

"I'm not having any expectations of you or of us. But just—" I sighed. Whatever I say wasn't gonna change his mind.

"But what sweetheart?" His head tilted, a mocking smirk playing on his face. I hated when he called me that when he didn't mean it.

"Stop calling me that" I said pointing my index finger at his chest. "And yes I did expect more," I continued, my voice gaining strength despite my shaky resolve.

"I expected us to at least try to make this work. To communicate. It's fine if you don't want to treat me like a wife in these walls but I thought at least we could be friends"

Chris's face hardened at my words, a mixture of frustration flickering in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to respond, then closed it again, his jaw clenching visibly. The air around us felt heavy with unspoken tensions and unresolved feelings.

"I didn't agree to this marriage expecting a fairy tale," he finally said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. "I thought we both understood what this was."

"I do understand," I replied, my voice steadier despite the storm of emotions raging inside me. "But understanding doesn't mean I have to accept being treated like I don't matter."

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of irritation. I had enough of his bullshit. I turned away from him and walked upstairs to my room. He grabbed my wrist but I twisted it off his grip, running to my room and shutting the door behind me.

Throwing my bag and phone onto my bed, I pulled my hair down from my ponytail and headed to the shower. The lukewarm water cascading down my body felt better. Like a hug.

I stood in the shower for good half an hour before coming out wrapped in my bathrobe, to find Chris SITTING on my bed.

What the fuck

"What are you doing here?" I snapped at him, keeping my voice calm yet mixed with irritation.

"Waiting for my wife to come out of the shower" He looked at me, a sly grin playing across as his eyes roamed my body. Water was still dripping down my hair and droplets sliding down my chest, his eyes were on my cleavage before it met mine again.

Why didn't I lock the god damn door

"It's rude to enter someone's room without permission" I stated firmly, my voice laced with annoyance as I tightened the belt of my bathrobe.

"Didn't need permission since this is my house" He said coolly.

"But it's my room. You assigned this to me, so I want you to respect my privacy"

He scoffed and met my gaze again, he got off the bed and walked to me, closing the distance between us slowly. I stood where I was, feeling exposed under his scrutiny. "Your room or not, I will do whatever I want. You live in my house"

His tone was smooth yet edged with arrogance, each word deliberate and cutting through the air with a sense of entitlement. My hands curled into fists, I knew arguing with him will only escalate the tension between us further.

"You might own this house," I retorted, trying to keep my voice steady despite the unease churning inside me, "but that doesn't mean you can disrespect boundaries."

Chris's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Boundaries?" he echoed, his voice low and dangerously calm. "You don't get to set the rules here, Aria. You're here because of the agreement, remember?"

His words stung, reminding me once again of the contractual nature of our marriage. It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that our relationship was based on anything but love or mutual respect.

"What do you want?" I asked, closing my eyes and turning away from him, having enough of his shit for the day.

"To fuck that little attitude out of you" Chris replied sharply, his voice cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. His words held a cold edge, filled with frustration and impatience.

Don't slap him. Don't slap him.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself before I turned back to face him. "My attitude is a direct result of your behavior, Chris. If you want it to change, maybe you should start treating me with respect."

He scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Respect is earned, Aria. And frankly, you haven't exactly made it easy."

I shook my head, disbelief and anger mingling in my voice. "You think I owe you respect after the way you've treated me? After all the times you've ignored me, dismissed me when I tried to talk to you, or made me feel like I'm nothing?"

Chris's expression hardened, his jaw tightening.

"This marriage was never about love. We both know that. You and I were both pressured by our families and here we are. It's a civil arrangement, and in a civil conversation respect is earned through cooperation."

"Only 335 days more of your bullshit and I'll be out of this hell" I walked away from him to my wardrobe, indicating that he should leave.

He laughed a cold laugh before he left my room saying,

"Can't wait for the day"

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

Thank you for reading!

xx,Ivyy

Next Chapter

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jerzwriter · 6 months ago

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I've written an extensive background HC for Eli, and I have one for Zoe, too, though it's lived only in my head and never made it to paper. This short series is meant to change that.

Series Summary: About a year after the solstice, Zoe Rivera is dreading her upcoming birthday. It's a day that has always been difficult for her, but with the loss of her sister, the only connection to her past, this year is proving to be harder than most. As her friends and found family attempt to help her through, Zoe makes many discoveries about herself, her past, and the future she hopes to build.

Part 1: Ring the Bells That Can Still Ring

Book: Wake the Dead Pairing: Eli Sipes x Zoe Rivera (F!MC) Characters: Troy Hassan, Shannon Fox, Angel Savage, Mina Arbogast, May, Feather, original characters Rating: Teen TW: Mentions of death & loss Words: 3,200 Chapter Summary: Angel is excited to start new traditions at Olympus, but Zoe makes it very clear that she wants no part in one. As Eli & Troy attempt to help her deal with feelings of grief, Zoe makes a conscious effort to focus on what she has today. But a trip to scavenge for supplies lead to some fateful discoveries.

A/N: I expect this series to be 3 or 4 parts. I'm participating in @choicesjunechallenge2024 - Threshold, Beginnings, and Endings.

It was a relatively quiet night at Olympus. Springtime had returned and brought a multitude of chores to be completed along with it. Most of the colonists had spent the unseasonably warm day gardening or tending to building repairs impossible to complete during the harsh winter months. It was no surprise that most were petered out and already tucked into their beds. But a small group who weren't willing to let the evening just yet were gathered in the great room.

Troy, Mina, and Shannon were in a corner playing an old game of Jenga that Troy had recently acquired as others gathered around the fire to sing and tell stories. Eli sat nearby, half-listening as he worked on repairing his bow, while Angel lounged on a nearby couch, extremely excited over her activity. Tapping the purple pencil in her hand against her notebook, she exclaimed.

“I’m almost done! I only need to more people!

“Who do you still need?” Shannon hollered over.

“Just Feather and Zoe.”

Fresh out of the shower, Zoe entered the room, vigorously drying her long hair with a towel. “You need Feather and Zoe for what?” she responded.

“Oh! I’m making a birthday list for the colony. This way, no one’s special day will ever be forgotten.

Troy’s eyes popped up and darted immediately to Zoe. His brow furrowed in concern; he wished he could have spoken to Angel just minutes sooner.

“Thank you, Angel. But I’d prefer not to be included,” Zoe replied curtly.

But Angel wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Zoe, we need to include you! Do you think we’re going to celebrate everyone’s birthday except yours?”

“Angel, I said no!” the usually affable leader snapped.

Clearing his throat, Eli placed his bow at his feet and went to Zoe’s side. He was almost there when a loud clattering noise caused him to jump, and everyone turned in Troy's direction.

"Sorry!” Troy blushed; the collapsed Jenga tower crumbled before him on the table.

“How did you manage that?” Mina blurted. “There were a dozen safe moves you could have made!”

“Don’t question it!” Shanon grinned. “This might be our chance to finally win!”

With the chaos as a distraction, Eli locked eyes with Zoe as he took her by the hand and cocked his head toward the exit. Once Troy was certain they were gone, he began to reassemble the bits of fallen wood again.

“I want a do-over!” He complained.

“Not a chance,” Angel laughed. “But I still need Zoe’s birthday. Where’d she go?"

“Yeah, about that,” Troy grimaced. “It’s best to let the birthday thing go with her. It’s... complicated.”

“What’s complicated?” Angel shrugged. “We live in a zombie-infested world. I spent most of my birthdays alone, playing whack-a-mole with them at the mall. I want to embrace the good, and that includes celebrating birthdays with my new family.”

“I know. But you have to understand Zoe’s birthday has always been a touchy issue. When we were kids, she didn’t like celebrating because she said it was the day her mother gave her away, then when her fathers died, she didn’t want to celebrate at all. If not for Ana convincing her, she wouldn't have celebrated at all."

"Well, what did Ana tell her?" Shannon asked. "Maybe we could do the same thing."

"She told her how happy she was to have a little sister, so they had to celebrate the day she came into the world.”

“That’s so sad but lovely, too,” Shannon stated. “With Ana gone now, it must be especially hard for her.”

Troy sat back and ran a hand through his well-coiffed hair, a somber look in his eyes. “This stays here... right?”

“Of course,” they all agreed.

“Zoe’s birthday is coming up soon. May 24th, to be exact.”

“Wow! So her birthday was just before we all met!” Shanon remarked.

“It was on the day we met. You had to be 25 to be a scout, and that’s what Zoe always wanted to be. She insisted on starting her new position that very day."

“You’re kidding! That’s how she wanted to... Oh my, God,” Shannon covered her mouth as the tragic realization set in.

“Yep,” Troy frowned. “Ana died on Zoe’s birthday.”

“Oh my goodness!” Angel wailed. “That’s terrible!”

“It makes sense that she wouldn’t want to celebrate,” Mina nodded.

“But she’s so special,” Angel inserted. “And it seems unfair to celebrate all of us... but not her.”

“We have to honor her wishes,” Troy insisted. “Eli and I have both spoken to her and told her Ana would have wanted her to celebrate. But Ana was the family she had, her only link to her life before the outbreak. If she’s not ready, we can’t push her.”

“We could just celebrate on another day?” Angel offered. “Like November 9th is official Zoe day!”

But Troy shot the idea down. “I think it’s best we let it be, at least for now.”

~~~~~

Upstairs, Eli sat in bed beside Zoe, gently rubbing the distressed young woman's back.

“She meant well,” Eli mumbled. “I can talk to Angel."

“I’m sure Troy already has,” Zoe said, leaning into Eli’s embrace. She didn't like dwelling on the losses she had endured, but sometimes, like now, it seemed impossible to escape. She tried to lose herself in Eli's woodsy scent and the warmth that radiated from him, but the seed had already been planted, and within moments, her tears began to flow.

“I miss her, Eli," she wailed. "I miss her so much.”

“I know,” he comforted. “I know.”

In a world where no one was immune to tragedy and loss, Zoe knew Eli truly understood. The loss of his brother and the loss of Ana had many parallels; it was something that had drawn them together. She reached out for his hand and held it close. It was good to not be alone.

“I hate that you lost her on your birthday... of all days.”

Zoe tried to shrug it off. “Birthdays weren’t important at the Tower. It was rare that they were even acknowledged. But growing up, Ana and Troy always went out of their way to make me feel special on my day, and I did the same for them.”

“Would it help to tell me about some of those days?” he asked.

“Well, Troy always knew how to... find... treats and things we weren’t supposed to have, even as kids.”

“Good ol’ Troy,” Eli smirked.

“Exactly! He’d knock at our door with some cookies or candy in hand. They weren’t even all that good – but compared to what we usually ate, we thought it was incredible! Ana did her best to keep some of our family traditions alive, but she even admitted she wasn’t sure she was doing them correctly. We were so young when the outbreak happened, and with all the trauma, her memory wasn't the best.”

“So you started your own traditions,” Eli said. "That's what mattered."

“I guess,” Zoe smiled. “As I got older, one of those traditions became Ana securing a whole bunch of beer. We’d lock ourselves in our room, drink entirely too much, and act like total idiots. The evening usually ended with us dancing or Troy putting on some sort of a performance.”

Eli shook his head. “Please tell me he kept his clothes on, at least.”

Zoe laughed at the thought, and Eli instantly felt some of the tension in his shoulders drift away. Seeing her suffer was never easy, and her laughter warmed his heart.

“If he did, I was too drunk to remember.”

“You were lucky to have each other.”

“We were,” she agreed. “What were your birthdays like ... after the outbreak?”

“My birthday was in the winter. That was good because it meant fewer zombies to worry about. We could let our guard down a bit. But winter also meant fewer supplies and sometimes storms so bad we were confined to the cabin. Still, my parents found ways to make it special. My Mom made pudding or a cake when she could, Dad would play his guitar, and David always drew something for me, too.”

Zoe snuggled against his chest. “You were lucky, too.”

“Yeah...” Eli replied with a soft smile. “I was. We were. We still are. We have each other... and all the lunatics downstairs. I don’t have my family anymore, but I have a family again. In this world, most people aren’t lucky enough to get that once, but we got it twice.”

Zoe lurched into an upright position and turned to Eli with a half-smile. “Is this where you tell me that’s why I should still celebrate my birthday? I get that. But I'm not comfortable celebrating the anniversary of my sister’s death."

“Of course not,” he replied, pulling her back to him. “That has to be your call. I just want you to remember, there are still people who are grateful you’re here, who love you very much... and I’m at the top of that list.”

~~~~~

The following day, the gang was up bright and early to head out and scavenge. They piled into their old van, and as Troy drove them through meandering roads, it took Zoe back to that day nearly a year ago. Her chest tightened as the dark cloud attempted to envelop her once again. Angel sat just a few feet away. She had been especially quiet this morning. Knowing it likely had something to do with her, Zoe reached over and squeezed her hand.

“I hope you don’t think I’m upset with you,” Zoe stated. “Because I’m not.”

Angel had a shadow of a smile when she placed her head on Zoe’s shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories. I'd never want to hurt you."

“I know that,” Zoe sighed. “My birthday is... complicated, to say the least.”

“I know, Troy explained.”

Troy looked in the rearview mirror, aghast. “Gee, thanks, Angel! What happened to what happened in the great room, stayed in the great room?”

“It’s all right, Troy,” Zoe chuckled. “I know you’re trying to help me.”

Zoe took a deep breath before addressing her friends. "I'd like to give you an explanation. Ana and I had two fathers; our mother wasn't in my life from the start. From what I was told, she left my father one day when he went to pick up Ana from school. He was distraught and happy when she returned a couple weeks later. But she didn't come back to stay; she wanted to let him know she was pregnant. She wanted a divorce, but she didn't want me. But Papa convinced her to have me and promised he'd raise me and Ana alone. She agreed, and on the day I was born, she handed me over and never saw me again.”

“Zoe,” Shanon whimpered, taking her friend’s other hand.

“Yeah, well, screw her!” Angel blurted. “It was her loss! Your Dad & Ana loved you. That’s all that mattered.”

“But how did you end up with two dads?” Mina asked.

“Papa, my bio-dad, was good friends with Sam. After my mother left, he was there to help my father and Ana through. By the time I was born, they had fallen in love and not long after, they were married, and Sam legally adopted us. Ana said they were so happy; our family was complete."

“So the story had a happy ending,” Shannon started. “Until the outbreak, at least.”

“Yep,” Zoe snapped. “But at least I had Ana and later Troy – they became my family, and Ana insisted I celebrated my birthday each year. But now that she’s gone, I just....”

She shielded her eyes when her voice cracked, not wanting others to see her cry, but she was following no one.

Eli and Troy shot each other a look of concern in the front seat as Shanon, Angel, and Mina tended to Zoe.

“I’m just afraid,” Zoe sniffled. “I’m afraid I’ll forget the little I know about my family. Ana was my touchstone; everything I knew about Papa and Dad was because of her, and she’s gone...”

“You’ll remember,” Eli called back. “You’ll remember, and we’ll help you. You can tell us the stories you know over and over again, and we’ll help keep those memories alive.”

“That’s a great idea,” Shanon nodded. “We could all talk about our former lives so we don’t forget the things that make us who we are today.”

“I’m so glad I have all of you,” Zoe declared.

“And we’re glad we have you,” Angel replied as the women embraced in a group hug.

The van wobbled slightly as Troy pulled over to the side of the road.

“Ladies,” he smiled. “And Eli...of course... we’re here. If you want some time, Eli and I could start, and...”

“No,” Zoe insisted, standing up and dusting herself off. “No, we have a job to do. Let’s do it!”

They split into groups to survey the well-picked-over stores and homes on their route. It didn't take long to realize they weren't going to find much in the rubble. Zoe was about to announce they should call it a day when something caught her eye.

Using her jacket sleeve, she brushed a thick layer of dust off a glass counter and smiled tenderly as she gazed at the treasure inside. She reached in and pulled out an old, weathered doll. The poor thing had seen better days but was in remarkably good condition. Her dainty porcelain face and arms were still in tact, and while her clothing was in need of a wash and had some loose trimming, it was amazing it survived this long. Noticing the enchanted look on his friend's face, Troy snuck up behind her.

“Whatcha got there?” He asked.

“A doll,” Zoe beamed. “I remember Ana and I had similar ones when we were little. Look!” She handed the doll to Troy. “I think her clothing is traditional Mexican attire. Papa was Mexican, and I believe my mother was half Mexican, too...”

“I know that,” Troy winked, handing the doll back to Zoe. “And you did have dolls like this growing up."

"I did? How do you know that?" She asked.

"Because Ana had described them to me. She told me to be on the lookout, and if I ever found one, to please let her know."

Zoe took the doll back, a feeling of contentment she hadn't felt in days washed over her.

"I think you need to give her a new home," Troy smiled.

“I most certainly do!"

Home. Zoe couldn’t wait to get home. She wanted to clean her new treasure and reminisce about a simpler time. Perhaps she could find more information in the old encyclopedia Troy put in the library. She looked out the window of the moving van; the sky was now just whisps amber in a field of grey as the day neared its end. Home. She was heading home surrounded by her new family and the tranquility of the moment was cherished... but, alas, short-lived.

“Whoa, watch over there!” Eli yelled, pointing to a shadowy figure lurking on the side of the road. He raised his bow into position.

But as they neared the figure, something in Zoe came alive.

“Eli, wait,” she blurted. “Don’t shoot... I don’t think that’s a drone; it looks like a person.”

“And that makes them any safer?” Eli questioned.

“It’s an old lady,” Shannon snapped back. “She shouldn’t be out by herself at this time of day!”

“In the woods, no less,” Mina chimed in.

“Troy,” Zoe ordered. “Stop the van.”

“What?” Eli spat. “Are you out of your mind.”

“I said stop the van!”

Zoe opened the sliding door and jumped before anyone could stop her; Eli and the others were quick at her heels.

“What are you doing?” Mina asked. “You have no idea who that is!”

"Finally, some logic," Eli muttered.

“It’s an old woman out alone at night, and I’m not about to leave her. I know we live in a dangerous world, but if we lose our humanity - then we will truly have nothing left."

"Fine," Eli said, holding his bow in place. "But I'm keeping this out... just in case."

“Simmer down there, cowboy,” Troy mocked. “She’s hunched over and looks like she is ninety years old!”

“No matter... one wrong move....”

“Excuse me,” Zoe said, startling the old woman at first. “Do you need help? You shouldn’t be alone at night... especially not in the woods. It will be completely dark any moment now."

The woman turned to Zoe slowly, and even in the dim light, with her wiry grey curls covering much of her face, it was easy to see her gentle smile and the kind look in her warm, brown eyes.

“It’s all right, child. I’ll manage. I always do.”

“Do you live around here? Can we at least give you a ride home?”

"The world is my home."

“You don't... you don't have," Zoe turned and looked at the others, but made the split-second decision on her own. "You're welcome to come with us and stay at our colony, at least for the night.”

The woman looked over Zoe’s shoulder at her friends huddled behind her, nodding at Eli, who still had his bow aimed in her direction.

“That one loves you very much,” the old woman teased.

Zoe looked back and rolled her eyes. “Eli, put the bow down.”

“No, no, no... mi vida,” the old woman smiled. “Leave it be. He’s protecting you; you should be grateful to him. But I assure you, I am of no danger to you.”

“Eli....” Zoe repeated, but he was unmoved.

“Not... just... yet.”

“I'm sorry," Zoe apologized. "If it makes you feel any better, that’s how he and I met, too, and now... I love him.”

“That’s good to know,” the old woman chortled.

“Look, if you don’t have someplace to stay tonight, our colony isn't far from here. Come and stay with us."

“Oh, no," she shook her head, the grey curls bouncing in every direction. "I don’t do well living in colonies.”

Zoe couldn't explain why, but something inside her couldn't let this woman walk away. She had to protect her, and no was an unacceptable answer.

“I understand, but just for the night, then. You can wash up, get a good night's sleep, have some breakfast, and be off in the morning if you like. What do you say?"

She looked between Zoe and her friends, and with a polite nod, she agreed for just one night.

Troy extended his hand before helping the woman into the van.

"Hello, I'm Troy. I'm the nice one.”

"Troy," Zoe laughed, playfully hitting the back of his head. "Shut up!"

"We're all nice," Angel grinned. "Even the scary-looking one up front... as long as you're not a zombie or don't cross us."

"I'll take that into account," she smiled.

"I should introduce everyone. I'm Zoe, and you've already been introduced to Troy. This is Shannon, Mina, and Eli."

"It's very nice to meet you all. My name is Adelina."

Shannon was the first to reply. "It's lovely to meet you, Adelina." She gestured to a bag at her side. "We can eat back at Olympus, but there is water here if you'd like some."

"Thank you," Adelia replied, happily drinking the bottle of water in one long gulp. Zoe smiled. Obviously, the woman needed more help than she let on.

"We should be back home in about twenty minutes," Zoe informed. "You can rest if you like."

"Gracias, mi vida. I think I'll do just that."

Adelia looked out at the night sky. The shades of amber were long gone, replaced by a swath of black velvet. The scattered silver speckles were stars, the stars that would guide them home.

Home, Adelia smiled, then drifted off to sleep.

@choicesficwriterscreations

Tagging others separately.

#wake the dead #wake the dead choices #eli sipes #troy hassan #shannon fox #angel savage #choices fanfic #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #choices stories you play #eli x zoe

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wonderlandisatsomewhere · 4 months ago

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Five ultimate signs that a guy is into you❤Revising Phum's pining era

A Phum appreciation post as i haven't seen one. Personally simp Phum was what got me really hooked in the first place. Watching ep 16 makes me really sad so I need to relive the series.

I read the novel other day and it was nice that the script dragged out a bit before PhumPeem became exclusive which I totally loved.

I know Phum had shown nothing but interest on Peem. But it kept reminding me of this chapter. I'll skip the part that they made out on the first unofficial date and focus on the subtle signs LOL

1. He's always, always up in your business.

It was on the verge of stalking actually.

To the point that he'll be wherever Peem is.

He's like I won't hesitate to ditch my year long friends for a boy I knew for like a month who I still am not sure I have a crush or not.

2. He'll never run out of excuses to touch you.

Hand grabbing was his love language before he even realize it himself.

You can turn pillow fight into gay so you can ACCIDENTLY smooch the boy you enslaved just to be close to him.

3. He might laugh a little harder than he probably should whenever you open your mouth.

All he does was smile around Peem.

Not sponsored by colgate.

When the sight of a common soda cup reminds you of BABE.

And this is his default RBF btw.

4. He would sometimes look at you... like he's silently asking for a kiss, but is too proud to actually say it.

The way I see it, it's damn close.

GOSH, the amount of butterflies I got watching those episodes. 🤒

That lips staring tho. It could be Phum, it could be Pond who knows.

5. He'll say it to you. In more ways than one.

Indirectly,

Directly,

The fact that he also never forgets to appreciate Peem.

I love that their dynamic includes lots of verbal reassurances.

Finally the I LOVE YOUs.

This scene OMG.😥

(They say it doesn't count if it was before or immediately after s*x) but well...

What I also like is that Phum's fixation didn't turn into toxic and overbearing. But rather about being insecure, attention seeking and touch starved sorts. It was balanced out because Peem's character is someone who is well loved and has plenty of affection to share in return and it makes them great together. I need to read the book a bit more the said drama came which i still haven't reached yet.

In conclusion, I definitely can relate Phum.

I mean look at this boy, just look at him. (He's so angelic in this shot)💗

God, I'm gonna miss we are and Wednesdays so much.

We are the series (2024)

Quotes are from one of my fav bxb books on wattpad "On my way to you" by @apparentlyelle which you definitely need to check it out! There's link on the name. 💗💗💗

#we are #we are the series #phum x peem #phumpeem #pond x phuwin #pond naravit #phuwin tangsakyuen #gmmtv #gmmtv series #gmmtv bl #thai bl #bl series #thaibl

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lostfirefly · 11 months ago

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Masterlist

(just not to lose my stories on the page, coz I don't know how it all started :))

One Piece - Buggy x OC, Buggy x Reader (placed on a separate link)

ᐢᗜᐢ Buggy x Reader Masterlist ᐢᗜᐢ

Buggy x Catherine (OC from You've Got the Same Dream as Me series)

(AU: No ships, no marines, Buggy lives in Cairo and runs a circus, periodically goes in search of gold with his girlfriend)

A brilliant art by UlfJack

• You've Got the Same Dream as Me

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10 (the final)

Catherine, a librarian who is searching for the trail of her sister who went missing on an expedition. Notes in books and diaries lead her to Cairo. There she finds a retailer from an artifact shop who, in exchange for selling her a map and equipment, insists that Catherine take her along. They get into a little (or maybe a big) adventure.. (based on my dream with Tom Cruise and Henry Cavill, but they have been replaced). Main characters: Sir Crocodile x OC, Buggy x OC. The Mummy and Indiana Jones vibes.

• Life Must Have It's Mysteries Cathie-pie and Buggy are going to their new adventure to find the blue diamond.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (nsfw part is included), Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12 (the epilogue)

• You are what my sins enclosed, lust as not as creative as its discovery (nsfw!) Buggy and Catherine live happily together in Cairo and they return home from the walk. Catherine made one mistake :)

• With each word your tenderness grows, tearing my fear apart, and that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart Buggy and Catherine were spending their evening at a bar. He was busy all week with his circus, so they hardly saw each other (yes, this happens too). A simple game leads to their first fight.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (nsfw!)

• 'Cause honey your soul can never grow old, it's evergreen, baby your smile's forever in my mind and memory Catherine's birthday. Buggy wants to give her a fun day.

• Let's stay together lovin' you whether, whether times are good or bad, happy or sad Buggy had a rough day, he came home upset and got a share of comfort from his Cathie-pie :) • Tell me what you want to hear, something that will light those ears I'm sick of all the insincere, so I'm gonna give all my secrets away Catherine came back home and found Buggy lying on the couch with the headphones. • If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can't see, I'll be the light to guide you Buggy and Catherine have been living together for about a month one and a half to two months. Catherine sees him without his clown makeup for the first time (for a completely stupid reason, because these two couldn’t have it any other way) • Cooking in the kitchen now that's what we do, there's something cooking in the kitchen just for you Cathie-pie is making breakfast for her beloved clown.

• What do you do? What do you do in the bath? (NSFW part is included) Buggy came home from a short tour. He and Catherine are taking a bath. Something gets out of control :) • Just a second, we're not broken, just bent and we can learn to love again Buggy asks Catherine out on a date, and they accidentally run into an old friend of hers. • The score will show we're pretty bad, but look at all the fun we've had Buggy screwed up (as always) and Catherine made him take her to the bowling club. • Desire, I'm hungry, and I hope you feed me. How do you want me, how do you want me? (nsfw is included!) Events take place after chapter 10 of "You've got the same dream as me". Catherine decides to stay in Cairo. Buggy brings her home. • Dust the shelves and polish the glass-ware, the housework makes you happy Catherine once again pulls out the trio Buggy, Cabaji and Mohji from the prison's point of view and forces them to clean the apartment. • Sharing horizons that are new to us, watchin' the signs along the way, talkin' it over, just the two of us, workin' together day to day Catherine and Buggy are celebrating six months since they first met. • I stand in fear as she gets near, then everything's okay I hope this feeling never goes away (flashback) Catherine and Buggy are going on their first date. Buggy sometimes reacts to simple little things in a very strange way. • I'm still learning about life, my woman brought children for me, so I can sing them all my songs, and I can tell them stories One morning if Buggy and Catherine had kids. • Well, I don't know why I came here tonight, I've got the feeling that something ain't right Neighbor asks Catherine and Buggy to look after the kids at their birthday party while she goes to get the cake. • In my midnight confessions, when I say all the things that I want to (Bedtime Story Series) Catherine's backstory in the format of fairy tales. Chapter 1 • Today, my love, all I want, I wanna sing for you, yeah, I'll sing for you, baby! Happy birthday to you! (sfw + nsfw) Buggy's bday! Catherine throws a party!

• Your nose is runnin', and your eyes are red, your head is achin', you'd be better in bed

Catherine caught a cold. Buggy takes care of her.

• I wanna kill something, I wanna destroy something

Catherine and Buggy are spending time before his imminent departure at their favorite bar. A nasty guy starts hitting on Cathie and our blue-haired hero finally finds the strength to stand up for his woman.

ᐢᗜᐢ Buggy and Catherine's Lifetime Sketches ᐢᗜᐢ

Bugust (lifetime sketches, stories)

OC: Day 1, Day 2, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 12, Day 14, Day 15, Day 16 (nsfw), Day 19, Day 20, Day 21, Day 22, Day 24 (nsfw), Day 25, Day 27, Day 28. Day 30 (nsfw), Day 31

Reader: Day 1, Day 12, Day 16 (NSFW), Day 23 (NSFW), Day 26, Day 29

Sir Crocodile x OC

• Trembling, crawling across my skin, feeling your cold dead eyes, stealing the life of mine (a bday present for my @yujo-nishimura)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 (The Finale, NSFW part is included)

Yujo is a young girl whom her father has betrothed to Mr. 3. She and her sister come to the ball, where she meets one of the members of the Cross Guild Corporation Sir Crocodile.

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cumulo-stratus · 1 year ago

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Spencer Reid x fencer!Reader

(GIF NOT MINE)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Male!reader

Description: reader is a fencer and is competing in the 2023 mens saber nationals and spencer invites the team to cheer on his boyfriend. (Could be read as ftm) (Also spencer is like low key autistic in this)

CW: slight swearing

A/N: i am a saber fencer, and i have been for years lol, so dont worry abt any mistakes in technique although its not gonna be accurate of an official tournament because it just makes more sense for the plot. (but if yall have any questions feel free to ask in the comments!), and tbh this fic is completely self indulgent lol, bc i couldn’t find anything like this so i decided to make my own :)

(NOT FULLY PROOF READ)

3rd person POV:

The days was finally here, after months of training and practicing for hours every week. There were so many nights Spencer had seen you walk through the door so tired and sore that you coud barely stand too many times to count. But it was all worth it, because today, Y/N Y/L/N was competing for wold champion.

Spencer decided to surprise his boyfriend by showing up with the whole team, decked out in French flags, showing their pride for him and his team. Y/Ns first semi-final bout was starting soon, and spencer was bouncing on the balls of his feet as he and his friends filed into the reserved seats for people related to the fencers. Spencer starts rocking in his seat and Derek looks over at him and says “hey pretty boy, you seem pretty excited, but you’re gonna fall out of your seat if you keep rocking like that!” With a wink. Spencer looks down shyly and says “Sorry, im just excited for his first bout.”

“Dont worry about it genius, im just teasing.” Derek responds. Then Rossi speaks up with “Am I the only one who’s confused as hell on what a bout is?” Small laughs erupted from the team at Rossis comment. Spencers eyes light up as he gets ready to tell him all about what he learned in his research of fencing. “A bout is combat between two fencers in competition. When score is not kept, friendly combat between two fencers is referred to as an assault. A single bout can go to 5, or 15 depending on the situation.” Spencer stated as if he was citing a book, because he probably was.

Finally the lights over the audience dimmed and the lights come over the strip. And then the 4 fencers came out of the back in their whites with blades and masks raised in the air. When Y/N finally comes out last, the entire team cheers and yells and whistles at the top of their lungs, even though the team got a few weird looks for their enthusiasm they didn’t care. And when Spencer and Y/N made eye contact Y/N blew him a little kiss, and spencer practically melted. “Ooh! Looks like pretty boy over here's got heart eyes for his little boyfriend!” Said Derek teasingly and spencer gets even more flustered. But theyre conversation is cut off as the first 2 fencers come out onto the strip, and the team got excited looking for your French flag patch and imposing Ukrainian coach who they’d heard a lot about from Spencer, (who’d in turn heard from you) but failed to find it, and they realized since there was 4 semi finalists there would be at least 1 bout without you in it. But the profilers still watched the bout intently, amazed at the ref calling points for seemingly simultaneous touches, with spencer explaining what the refs thought processes most likely was as they watched. And finally the bout came to a close with the Hungarian Aron Szilagyi losing 15-12. And then came out Y/N, ready for his first bout of the day. He was facing Ziad El-Sissy from Egypt. After about 10 minutes of hard fencing the score was 14-14. And after a small break and talking to his coach, Y/N walked back up to his en garde line and shook his arms out and took a deep breath in before going to en garde position. "En garde! Prêt! Allé!" And you burst forward convincing your opponent that your were going to attack, so in return they lunged forward with a double advance lunge. But you knew that's what he was going to do, so you made him fall short with a couple retreats before pushing him to end of the strip and striking with a quick and strong lunge to the chest. The crowd went wild at your attack and the referee called the point, " attack touché, point!" With their left arm raised towards you. You had won the bout and you were so happy. After meeting with your coach taking a water break and watching the next bout, it was your turn again. This was your chance to win, and become the national champion. The team went wild when they recognized the familiar patch on the young mans knickers and the imposing Ukrainian man standing off to the side. Y/N was facing Sandro Bazadze from Georgia. At first he was losing, bad. You could see spencer and the rest of the team sitting quietly watching in the hopes that the score would improve. It was currently 10-4 and you were down, but slowly you started gaining back points. A feint attack here, a quick sharp attack in the middle, a long attack down the strip with a sharp lunge to finish it off. And suddenly the score was 13-12, you. And with every point you won, spencer and his friends cheered louder.

The score was 14-13 and you just needed one more point, the audience fell silent as the ref called, “en garde, prêt, Allé!” And you sped forward with your arm starting to extend, and then you pounced into a lunge and the referee called halt, to the crowd it looked like a Simultaneous. But as soon as you heard the word you stopped and immediately came closer to the edge of the raised strip where the referee was standing slightly below you, your mask off to the side, discarded and forgotten in anticipation for the call. And as you and your opponent discussed with he referee, spencer began to wring his fingers so tight it was hard to tell if any blood was getting to them, he seemed more nervous than you. But finally the referee took a step back and announced “attack, touche, point!” With their arm raised above their head to their left. That was your side, it was your point. Spencer jumped up and start he’d cheering loudly with the rest of the crowd as you jumped and started crying tears of joy as you hugged your opponent who you’d known from your old days at junior Olympics. Spencer could believe it, he was so happy for you that the muscles in his jaw hurt from smiling so big.

(TIME SKIP)

Spencer's POV:

I had watched the medal ceremony and I couldn't wait to see Y/N. I decided to meet him in the locker room area before he went out and got crowded by people. I just wanted a moment alone with him and I was gonna get it.

when I walked into the room y/ns back was turned to me while he took off his lemme (pronounced le-may) and all that remained where his whites. I walked up behind him quietly and hugged his waist while snuggling my head into his neck despite his sweatiness

y/ns POV:

I felt arms snake around my waist and immediately knew it was Spencer. "Bonjour mon Cherie. Qu'est ce que tu fais ici? Tu n'as pas besoin de m'embrasser au fait, je suis très en sueur Chérie." (Hello my darling, what are you doing here? You don't have to hug me by the way, I'm very sweaty.) I said with a smile in my mother tongue as I was to tired to remember speak in English. But Spencer didn't mind, he knew French anyways. "Ça c'est bon mon amour, Tu as fait un incroyable, et tu mérites un câlin" (it's okay my love, you did amazing and you deserve a hug) Spencer responded while turning me around and unzipping my jacket for me. I kissed him and mumbled a "merci" as he pulled it off my shoulders and folded it up to put in my bag. After placing down the carefully folded jacket he lifted his head and placed his lips on mine. I could smell the faint scent of coffee and the paint he had used to draw the flag on his face. I licked his bottom lip asking for entrance as our lips danced together in sync as our tongues danced to their own tune, we were making out.

(Back with the team)

"What is taking them so loong?! I have a figurine of them fencing I had specially made!" Complained Garcia as she held up the figurine that had yet to be given to y/n. "mama it's a couple in a locker room what do you think they were doing?" Derek said with a sly smirk. "Ughhh I don't need that image in my head right now!" Replied the technical analyst just as y/n and Spencer walked up to them continuing their conversation in french forgetting about the language barrier between them and the rest of the team. "Ce dernier point était incroyable cependant!"(that last point was incredible though!) spencer said. "Je sais! Je pensais que j'allais le perdre!" (I know! I thought that I was going to lose it!) you responded. Hotch cleared his throat loudly and looked at the young pair. You both looked at each other looking like they just been caught. “D��so- sorry!” (Sor-) you apologize. Morgan just shakes his head and chuckles. Finally Rossi speaks up, “well it seams like congratulations are in order.” And starts to make his way over to Y/N for a hug but gets stopped partway there. Y/N put his hands out in the universal signal for stop, and said “thanks for the congratulations but i think everyone should stay at least a couple feet away cus i am stinky! I dont wanna kill anyone’s noses”

“That didnt seem to stop pretty boy over here” said Derek with a smirk gesturing to his mussed up hair and smudged face paint. Both spencers and Y/Ns face turned bright red as the rest of the team laughed at the teasing.

(Small time skip)

After lots of congratulations, good jobs, high fives, and handshakes from the team The group started walking out to their cars after deciding to meet up at a pizza place for celebratory dinner afterwards and Y/N decided to lean on his boyfriends shoulder after his knees buckled multiple times in just a few minutes (istg this happens to me all time after fencing and especially after tournaments). When they got to the car and sat down with he bag in the back, Y/N fell asleep almost as soon as he sat down. Spencer looked over at his boyfriend and admired him in his candid state. “World champion…” mumbled spencer to himself with a small smile, he was just so proud of y/n. And spencer thought about that the whole ride back to the hotel.

The end… :)

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