#i’m really not okay bruvs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

msmk11 · 13 days ago

Note

hi lovely!!

okay okay you know i'm IN LOVE with your Tangerine writings and i'm in big need of some good Tan hurt and comfort 😋😚 so if this is okay, the premise of my request is Tan being super aloof and seemingly uninterested in reader, like borderline mean, but the moment another dude shows an interest or she's in danger, he goes insane. like fully does anything to protect her and keep her as his!!

obviously feel free to ignore this if no inspiration strikes 🫶 sending my love! also no rush if you do think you wanna write it!

More Than I Should

Tangerine x fem!reader

WC: 3.4k

CW: drinking, partying

A/n: Hello my lovely Sky! Thank you SO much for requesting my dear. I don’t think I went as heavy on the tension as I could’ve, but I just think he’s such a big softie for reader that it’s hard!! I hope you enjoy and that it lives up to your expectations!!

“Well, well, if it isn’t my two favorite assassins.”

Tangerine and Lemon look up at you from their seats at the bar, mild surprise crossing their faces.

“Didn’t fancy you two to be people who spent their Fridays at a pub.”

Lemon snorts, “I reckon my bruv’s not, but I am. Love to people watch.”

You smile faintly at Tangerine, polite but detached. It’s not to say that you’re uninterested in the mysterious mustached man, but rather he’s always been aloof towards you.

“Alright Tangerine?”

He nods, “good as I can be.”

Lemon looks you over, eyeing your slightly more revealing clothes- fit for a night on the town, “and what are you up to?”

Across the room is a small group of your friends from university, sitting around a table picking at appetizers, “going out with some friends tonight. Reckon I need to let off some steam after all these jobs I’ve been put on.”

He chuckles, “I feel ya.”

“Well I uh, just thought I’d say hello. But I’m sure I’ll see you later?”

Tangerine gives you a neutral nod and Lemon fist bumps you before you turn and head back over to your friends, joining in on their rowdiness.

“Who were you talking to,” your old roommate, Sarah, slurs.

You wave her off, “just two coworkers.”

“So you just forgot to mention that you work with the sexiest men alive,” she replies, ogling Tangerine and Lemon equally, “Are they available?”

You nearly choke on your drink and Tyler, who is sitting to your right, pats you on the back.

“The fuck if I know,” you cough out, “I like to keep things professional, thank you very much.”

“Thank god they’re not my coworkers,” Natalie, who is across from you, adds, “I’d like to do some very unprofessional things to them.”

You groan and chug the rest of your vodka cran, “I’m gonna need a lot more drinks to deal with these two.”

Tyler agrees and hands you his card, “go get us some shots?”

The smooth plastic presses against your palm as Tyler places the silver card into your hand. You nod and kiss him on the cheek, promising to return soon. As the night has carried on, the crowd has only thickened, and you have to use your elbows to push through the swarm of people.

When you reach the other side of the room you call out to a bartender who is available and give her your order. Before you can hand over Tyler’s card, however, a voice interrupts you.

“Give me four more shots will ya. And put them on my tab.”

Tangerine stands next to you, a firm look on his face as you glance at him.

“Trying to steal my drinks?”

You swear a slight smirk plays on his lips.

“Just being friendly.”

A grin breaks out on your face, “I didn’t know that word was in your vocabulary. But anyways, thanks. Although I suppose Tyler should really be the one to thank you. He was supposed to pay.”

The brunette’s eyes flick across the room to your group of friends, “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Tyler?” You laugh, “no way. He’s just a friend from school. Why do you wanna know?”

“Well, usually, if a man pays for a girl’s drinks voluntarily, he likes her.”

“But you paid for-“

You’re cut off, however, when the bartender returns with your shots in hand. You balance the tiny glasses between your fingers, hoping the sticky drinks don’t spill on your way back to your seat.

“Wanna join us?” You ask Tangerine.

“Suppose I don’t have a choice, seeing as Lem has already been kidnapped by your friends.”

Sure enough, Lemon has been crammed into the booth between Sarah and Natalie, the two of them fawning over him. Not that he seems to mind much.

“Jesus Christ,” you curse, pushing back through the crowd.

Tangerine follows behind you to the table, his and Lemon’s shots in his hands. You set the glasses down in relief when you arrive and pull Tyler’s card from your pocket, returning it to him.

“I see you’ve made some friends, Lemon,” you smirk, before giving a warning glance to Sarah and Natalie.

“He looked so lonely!” Natalie protests, “we couldn’t leave him alone!”

“I think he would’ve survived,” you say, rolling your eyes, “But alas. I think proper introductions are in order. Everyone, these are my coworkers Tangerine and Lemon. Tangerine and Lem, these are my friends Tyler, Sarah, Natalie, and Chris.”

They all exchange polite greetings, though Sarah’s are more friendly and Tangerine’s less so. You move to slide into the booth next to Tyler but freeze. There’s only one spot left on the bench but two people to fit in. And it seems there are no extra chairs in sight.

“Oh this is gonna be a problem…” you murmur.

“You can just sit on my lap, if you want,” Tyler offers.

“That’s not necessary. I can just squeeze in on the edge,” Tangerine offers gruffly.

You shake your head, “No, no, I will. I invited you over. It’s not a problem, really.”

The brunette attempts to protest but you resist, gently pushing him into the seat. You slide onto the edge next to him, your arms squished together. You shuffle a little, trying to get comfortable.

“Here.”

Tangerine carefully lifts his arm up and wraps it around your shoulders, giving you more room on the seat while tucked into his side.

“Better?”

His lips are close to your ear and his gaze intent, and you can’t help but shudder a little.

“Better.”

He nods and looks away from you, his attention caught by the incessant questions pouring from Tyler and Chris’ mouths.

Lemon is similarly preoccupied with Sarah, but Natalie is staring straight at you, her eyes flitting excitedly between you and Tangerine.

‘Oh my god!’ She mouths.

You stare at her, perplexed.

‘He totally likes you!’

You almost snort, her suggestion so preposterous you can’t help but laugh.

‘No way,’ you mouth back ‘he barely talks to me at work, let alone like me.’

Natalie only huffs, rolling her eyes, ‘you’re in denial.’

You scoff and shake your head, picking up a shot and throwing it back. You tune into the conversations happening next to you, but the constant warmth of Tangerine at your side distracts you more than you’d like to admit.

*****

A chill night at the pub has quickly turned into full on rallying, your hoard of misfits stumbling from bar to bar in search of drinks and maybe someone to warm their bed on this chilly night.

Unsurprisingly, Lemon has joined in with the chaos. Surprisingly, Tangerine has too- though he doesn’t seem all that happy about it. You don’t mind his mood, not really. It’s a little endearing, frankly. And anyhow, you’re used to it. It’s just funny to see in the current setting. The club is full of raging, drunk idiots, your friends included and yourself on the precipice. Yet, amongst it all is Tangerine- sober, stoic, and commanding.

Throughout the evening Sarah and Lemon have paired up as well as Natalie and Chris- and you pray the latter doesn’t make things messy again. This leaves you sandwiched between Tyler and Tangerine, the two remarkably opposite yet their attentions both fixed on you.

Loud bass thumps throughout the room and you jump along, your feet just slightly sticking to the sticky floor beneath you. Tyler is singing and dancing along with you, but you haven’t quite been able to convince Tangerine to do the same.

The former grabs your hand and spins you around. It forces a giggle past your lips but also makes you dizzy. You stumble out of the spin and the floor comes rushing towards you. You brace for impact, but it never comes. Instead, a pair of hands grab your waist, stopping your descent. They pull you up gently and turn you around. It’s Tangerine.

“Careful there.”

You chuckle nervously, “lost my footing. Maybe spinning and alcohol isn’t such a good combo.”

His mustache twitches and he hums in agreement, “maybe not.”

“You okay, love?” Tyler asks, tapping you on the shoulder.

Tangerine’s grip on your waist tightens barely, the action almost unnoticeable it’s so subtle. You’d gasp if it wasn’t in Tyler’s line of vision.

“Hmm yeah, fine. Just lost my footing.”

“Maybe I should hold onto you tighter,” he chuckles with a wink.

Tangerine’s grip tightens again, but this time it’s far from subtle. You look back at him, your brows furrowed in confusion, but he’s not looking at you. Instead, he’s staring at Tyler, something dark and dangerous brewing behind his blue eyes. It’s a look you’ve seen before, in the field. A murderous one. You don’t know what it’s all about, but you don’t bother to ask. You respond to Tyler with a halfhearted giggle before moving to diffuse the tension.

“I love this song,” you cheer enthusiastically. You remove Tangerine’s hands from your waist and grab them with your own, “lighten up and dance with me, Tan.”

His eyes dart back to you and he grimaces. You only give him a warning glare to keep it together and he sighs, giving in. Tangerine dances, but stiffly. He lacks any real rhythm or fluidity, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes.

“What’s funny?” He huffs, squinting at you.

“N-nothing, nothing.”

You bust out laughing and he freezes.

“You fucking laughing at me?”

He doesn’t look angry, not really, but disbelieving.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You- don’t know how to dance, do you?”

Tangerine huffs and looks around before looking over your head at Tyler. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his credit card, “get us some drinks, will ya? On me.”

“What?” Tyler asks, scoffing a little.

“Get us some drinks, mate, yeah?”

Tyler scoffs again, “I can pay myself I-“

“Tyler, take the free drinks,” you warn.

‘Please’ you mouth.

He sighs and takes Tangerine’s card bitterly before stalking off towards the bar. Your eyes follow him out of sight, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. You’re too distracted to notice that the brunette has fully refocused his attention on you. He grips your waist suddenly and pulls you flush against him. This time, you do gasp audibly. Your head whips around and your noses brush, you’re so close.

“What’re you?”

“I’m showing you how to really dance.”

Tangerine proceeds to guide you through a series of steps, and you’re equal parts shocked and entranced. Despite the sticky floors, loud noises, and swarming crowd, you are only focused on Tangerine- the musky scent of his cologne, his blue eyes piercing yours, the firm grip of his hands, and his warmth right up against your front.

“Where’d you learn-“

He interrupts you by sending you into a dip. When he pulls you up again, he spins you and then grabs your hips to catch you. You’ve returned to your original positions, nose to nose, but now you’re panting heavily.

You can’t tell if it’s from the dancing or Tangerine.

“And that’s how a real partner spins you,” the brunette grumbles, his breath fanning across your lips.

“Right-“

“Drinks, anyone?!”

Tyler’s voice breaks the thick tension between you and Tangerine, and you accept the distraction gratefully. You spin around and grab the sweaty bottle, taking a long sip.

*****

Tangerine hates all of your friends. Okay, that’s a lie, he only hates Tyler. But he is mad at all of them. What sorta friends are you hanging out with that they leave you all alone in a bar? Okay, not alone. He is with you. And Tyler. But still? Frankly, he hasn’t seen any of those pricks in hours, including his own brother. You’re really drunk and Tyler is not far behind, and Tangerine’s about had enough of it all.

He’s checking his watch for the umpteenth time when he hears your murmur something about getting another drink.

“I think that’s about enough, love,” Tangerine interrupts, “you probably need to be getting home.”

You turn and look at him, your eyes softening into a big pout. He commits the precious look to memory but swears to never bring it up. Sober you would be beyond embarrassed.

“N-nooo, fine. I’ll be fine-“ you hiccup.

The brunette assesses you knowingly, “I don’t think so. Come on, I’ll call an uber to take us all back to our places.”

You stare at Tangerine with squinting eyes, like you’re trying to put him into focus.

“Fineeee, Mr. Moneypants. Come on, Tyler, we’re leaving.”

Your friend looks at you, “what? We’re not rallying to the next bar?”

You shake your head slowly, “time for bed, Ty.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders and Tangerine clenches his jaw.

“I’ll get us an Uber?”

You pat Tyler on the chest, “not necessary. Tan is getting us one.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and moves his arm away, “alright fine, let’s go.”

Ten minutes later, the uber pulls up and Tyler takes the passenger seat, leaving you and Tangerine in the back. He guides you to the car and opens the door, gently helping you in so you don’t fall. He follows behind, taking a seat, and you collapse into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Another thing he won’t mention.

Tyler gives instructions to what Tangerine assumes is his apartment, and the car sets off.

Not much later the car comes to a slow halt and Tyler gets out of the car. He peeks his head back in, “come on, love. You coming?”

You drowsily stir from your place on Tangerine’s shoulder. “Mmm? No, I’m going home.”

Tyler sighs, “come on, why don’t you just stay the night? I’ll sleep on the couch and you can have the bed.”

“No Tyler! I wanna go home!”

“Sweetheart-“

“She said she wants to go home, mate. Let it go.”

“And you’re gonna make sure she gets in safely,” Tyler asks rather bitterly.

“Stop the violence,” you mutter nonsensically, and the two hot-headed men look at you.

“Fine, whatever.” Tyler shuts the door and the car speeds off to your place.

Tangerine has no faith you will safely get from this car to your bed, so he pays the driver and gets out with you, supporting you around the waist as you stumble up the steps to your flat. You fumble for your keys in your purse, muttering curses as you shiver in the cold.

“Found it!”

You beam proudly, but then promptly drop them onto the concrete.

“Shit!”

“Here, let me, love.”

Tangerine bends down and grabs them before unlocking the door.

You step inside and he follows suit, careful to lock the door. Your place is homey, and undoubtedly suited to your taste. It even smells like you, and he can’t help but feel relaxed. He sets your keys on the coffee table and lets you lead him down the hall.

You stumble as Tangerine guides you into your room and onto the bed. He bends down on one knee, untying your shoes.

“Why don’t you like me?”

The brunette freezes, your question sending shivers down his spine. “What?”

“Y-you don’t like me Tangerine. And I don’t get it. Why? What have I ever done to you?”

He finally loosens the tie and peels your shoe off before starting on the other.

“Love, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Who said I didn’t like you?”

“Well you did. Okay maybe you didn’t say it. But you said it with your eyes. And the way you never talk to me or acknowledge me. I mean I’m not asking to be your best friend but…”

“You’ve got it all sorts of backwards, sweetheart.”

He pulls off your other shoe, “you have something to sleep in?”

“Oh no I usually sleep naked-“ you answer honestly, reaching for the hem of your shirt.

Tangerine grips your wrists, “that’s alright, you can wait til I’m gone.”

He’s grateful you’re drunk enough to not see him blush. The brunette gently pushes you backwards to lay down and throws your comforter over top of you. He moves towards the door.

“Wait, don’t leave!”

“I’m not, sweetheart, I’m just going to go get you some water.”

You relax back into your bed and nod sleepily.

When Tangerine returns with a glass in hand, you’re still. You’re even breathing tells him you’re asleep, so he simply sets the cup on your night stand and bends down, checking once more that you’re okay.

His eyes trail over your face. It’s softer than he’s ever witnessed before and his heart clenches painfully. Your eyelashes flutter in your sleep and your lips have rested in a pout. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Unable to resist, he reaches out and cups your face, dusting his thumb across your cheekbone once, twice, three times before pulling away.

“You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart,” he murmurs aloud, “I don’t hate you. I like you too much for my own good.”

Tangerine stands and leaves, shutting the door softly behind him.

What he doesn’t see is your eyes fluttering open at the click of the door.

*****

I like you too much for my own good…

The words spin in your head over and over til you think you’re going to be sick. You sit up and grab the cup of water Tangerine left, taking multiple gulps. Only when you feel a little bit of calm do you finally climb out of bed. It’s a quiet, peaceful morning, opposite of your racing heart.

You trudge down the hall to your kitchen to whip up some coffee and trip over a pair of shoes.

“Fuck!”

You throw your hands out to catch yourself but you don’t hit the ground. A pair of arms catch you.

“How many times am I going to have do that?”

Tangerine is half on your couch, a smirk- an actual smirk- on his face.

You sigh and groan, sitting down onto the floor, “okay that wasn’t my fault. You’re the one who left your shoes in the middle of my floor. In my flat. Remind me, why are you here?”

Tangerine lets go of your waist and pulls back, sitting up stiffly.

“Well I went to take you to bed last night ‘cos you were fucking hammered, and when I tried to leave, the Uber was gone. I… didn’t fucking feel like calling another… and your couch looked comfy… and I was worri- I wanted to make sure someone was here in case you were too drunk.”

Your heart swells, “you were worried about me? I’m starting to think maybe you don’t totally hate me.”

Your reminded of his words again and you freeze, catching his gaze.

“What?”

“Did you know… that I was awake last night. When you came back with the glass of water.”

The brunette grows impossibly stiff, “so you heard…”

“You like me more than you should?”

He sighs and restlessly runs his hand through his hair, “fuck me. Yeah. I’m- fucking Christ, sorry.”

You pull yourself up onto your knees, so that you’re closer to him, “because you’re sorry you said it? Or because you’re sorry I heard it?”

Tangerine grunts and looks down, sniffling, “The latter.”

Heat courses through your body at your confession and you tentatively place a hand on his knee. His head shoots up, his blue eyes looking at you in surprise and… something else. You hold his gaze, hoping your eyes communicate the desire humming through your body.

“Fuck,” he curses, before reaching out and grabbing your waist. This time, when he pulls you in, he kisses you gruffly, and you groan in surprise.

His mustache scratches your upper lip, but it’s not unpleasant. You run your hands up his sides to his shoulders, using his sturdy frame for balance as you stand and straddle his lap. He’s the one to groan this time, his grip bruising as he deepens the kiss.

Everything in this moment feels so good and perfectly right. Your body is alive, thrumming with excitement and desire and passion, and you’re pretty sure you could kiss this man forever and ever. In this moment, you’d do anything he asked.

So, you pull away, pacing yourself.

Tangerine groans as he rests his head on yours, “I wasn’t finished with you, sweetheart.”

“Take your time, Tangerine. We’ve got all day. And luckily, I like you more than I should.”

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samthestrangerthingsfan · 1 year ago

Text

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: established relationship, Eddie is an emotionally constipated lil guy who's scared of his own feelings, adorable nervous energy, so much fluff its gross

AN: BRUV i wrote this in about a half hour ago and now its up and i BARELY edited this so please be gentle! I love you guys, have the best weekend!

I can’t fucking say it.

Eddie has been pacing back and forth in his room for the past 45 fucking minutes.

He’s tried saying it looking in the mirror, looking at his feet, hell, he even tried staring out the fucking window.

Nothing.

He can think it—that’s the easy part. Those three little words play in his head like a god damned broken record.

When he’s not around you, he’s thinking it. When he’s just left you, or on his way to you, he can feel it on the tip of his tongue.

Oh, but when he’s with you? It’s like a big flashing neon fucking sign buzzing in his brain:

EDDIE MUNSON LOVES HIS GIRL.

It should be easy, no? To look you into your dreamy eyes and tell you.

Let’s try this again.

Eddie bounced back and forth on each foot, shaking the nerves from his hands. “C’mon, Munson. Don’t be a chicken shit…”

He let out a few quick breaths. “Okay, okay…”

Eddie’s brain is screaming at him. Telling him to say the fucking words he’s been thinking and feeling for the past 4 months.

Really the past 3 years he’s knowns you, but that’s neither here nor there.

He feels out of breath just sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.

“I can’t fucking say it, holy hell.” Eddie scrubs his face, feeling like a complete coward.

Always running from what scares him.

He heard the door of the trailer open, and the familiar chime of your keychain follow.

“Eds? I’m back! and I got you a surprise!”

Whatever nerves he was feeling vanished. You’re the most calming presence Eddie’s ever met. Like…a warm blanket. A cup of tea on a rainy day. Lover's lake, right as the sun was starting to rise.

Magical. Healing. Golden.

You were everything to him, and he couldn’t even fucking tell you.

“Babe?” You called again, looking for him.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah, in here, sweetheart.” He stands quickly. Drying his sweaty palms on his pants.

You round the corner into his room, and Eddie swears you get more beautiful every time he sees you. You smile at him, “Hey, handsome.”

“There’s my pretty girl.” He says without a second thought. “You and Buckley have fun at the mall?”

Eddie pulls you into him completely, and you melt. He’s so sturdy and strong but so, so gentle with you. You inhale him, he inhales you.

Home.

“I did, Robin keeps me from flying too close to the sun,” you laugh. “I did, however, get you a little something.”

Eddie pulls back, looking at you. “What? Why?”

You’re beaming up at him, “‘Cause I love you, ya silly goose.” You bend down, and grab the bag at your feet. “Here, opening it!”

Eddie doesn’t even have time to process how easily you’d say it.

You’ve never once pressured him—never made a big thing about saying it. It came with no strings when you said it the first time.

You’d spent the day with him, doing nothing particularly important. These were Eddie’s favorite. It’s just him and his girl, no sharing you with Robin or Dustin or any of those other gremlins.

You had an early shift the next day, so you kissed him goodbye, and grabbed your bag. Eddie kissed you once for every step you took toward the door.

“Baby, nooooo,” he whined. “I’ll let you sleep, sweetheart. No funny business, scouts honor.”

You laughed, “Oh, you were Boy Scout?”

Eddie shifted his feet, “I could’ve been.”

You kissed him deeply at the front door, “I’ll be back before you know it."

“Fine, fine,” he said dramatically. “I’ll just be here…alone…wallowing in my sorrows.” Eddie flopped back and fell backwards over the couch.

Your giggle echoed off the walls of the trailer. “I love you! I’ll see you in the morning!”

The door shut behind you, and Eddie shot up like a rocket, and stiff as a board.

You love him.

You said you loved him.

And he didn’t say it back.

It’s haunted him since.

Eddie took the bag from your hands, and pulled you gently to follow him. You sat down together on the edge of his bed.

You spoke to him as he opened it, “Okay, if you don’t like them, just be nice because it took me 40 minutes to decide between two sets and this one spoke to me and I wanted—“

“Honey, honey.” Eddie chuckled. “Take a breath. Whatever it is, it’s perfect." He tapped your nose gently, "‘Cause it’s from you.”

Eddie unwrapped the tissue paper, revealing a black acrylic case. He removed the lid, and his jaw nearly hit the floor.

“Holy shit, baby.”

Inside the case, was a brand new set of black onyx and ruby red DND dice.

“You like ‘em? Robin almost left me in the store because I just couldn’t decide—“

Eddie put the dice down quickly, grabbed your cheek, and kissed you tenderly.

He brought his other hand to your face as well, cupping it gently as his mouth moved over yours

When he was done with your mouth, Eddie kissed your nose, your cheeks, your eyes, your chin, any part of you he deemed not smothered in affection enough.

His lips had barely left your skin before he spoke, “I love you. God, I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Your smile—it could light up the whole town.

“Y-Yeah?” You asked hopefully, “You do?”

Eddie nodded, his hair tickling you cheeks. “I really, really do, baby. I love you. Thank you for thinking of me. For taking the time to do something that I never woulda done for myself. Thank you for just…” Eddie sighed, kissing your forehead. “Just for being mine. Christ, I’m so lucky.”

It wasn't about the gift.

Eddie had it all when he had you, and now he's going to make sure you know it.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things

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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago

Note

Hi!! Thank you for all the amazing writing you do!!! My humble request is of a reader who brings Jamie to meet her family and he’s appalled that someone so kind and gentle is treated w such lack of love/respect (ex: first comment out of her granddad’s mouth is sm about her weight/job/look/etc) and it puts a lot of things about her into perspective. At some point he can’t take it anymore and defends her and then vows to her that he will undo all of that pain and will prove to her she is worthy of all the love:) sorry it’s a long one (got lots of personal experience lol) so no worries if u can’t but it would mean the world thank you!!!

Hi cutie! Here you go! I’m sorry that you have personal experience with this, families can suck sometimes. It’s definitely from Jamie’s POV, so keep that in mind😅 Boy’s a rambler.

stuck by you

Jamie sure knows how to pick them.

No really, he does. He’s always had stellar taste in girlfriends, except usually they have shit taste in men.

It’s different this time, he swears. Keeley swears, too. Swears she’ll break every bone in his body if he so much as looks at you funny, and Jamie… well, Jamie’s not actually terrified of Keeley, just respectful, like.

So he’s going to make sure he doesn’t fuck this up because you’re funny and gorgeous and brilliant and he's also those things, so you’re like a power couple. And when you beg- no, ask, because you only have to ask once- him to come with you for a family event, he says yes without a second thought.

It’s off-season, but he’d do it in-season in a heartbeat (just with a bit of fear because Ted’s alright, but he’s a little gun-shy since the whole ‘practice’ thing).

It’s also fucking BOILING, so he’s going to wear his least-slutty shorts (it’s a family event) and a shirt that is not see-through.

He’s not going to fuck this up, not with how sweet you are, how generous, how-

A football hits the side of his head, and he’s brought out of his thoughts.

“You’re daydreaming, bruv,” comes Isaac’s voice. “What’s the point of a friendly if you can’t even pay attention?”

Jamie gives himself a shake, and he’s firmly in the present. He’s at the mid-off-season-Richmond-party or whatever, and football is a mandatory affair. He makes the mistake of glancing to where you’re standing under a tree in Colin’s backyard and fuck you’re sneaking sweets to the few kids who are flitting around the grass. Fucking Declan and his adorable children. You catch his eye and give him a little wave, and his heart jumps like he’s in primary school and not a world-renowned Premier League athlete.

Yeah, he’s good and fucked.

He makes a mental note to get you into bed tonight, he’s pretty sure it won’t be too difficult, but he’s going to have to convince you to leave early. But can you blame him?

(No, no you fucking can’t.)

—

Jamie isn’t nervous to meet your family. Seriously, he isn’t. It’s your family and a) he’s fucking greatwith families and b) he’s fucking great with you. He rocks up with you on his arm, and he’s already making plans for the sundress you’ve got on, mainly how to get in on the floor once you go home.

You’re both looking fucking fit. Jamie hopes a little bit that someone sneaks a picture of you two and it ends up in the press because this look CANNOT be wasted.

He almost misses the way your grip tightens as you walk up the steps. He tilts his head in your direction, assessing your expression.

“You okay?” he asks and receives a tight-lipped smile.

“Yup,” you reply. “Let’s fucking do this.”

Not the response Jamie was expecting, but he’ll roll with it. You push open the door and walk into the family room and the first thing out of your granddad’s mouth is, “Oh, there she is! Bold of you to wear that dress with the way you’ve been eating, my dear,” and Jamie half-expects you to say something.

Or for someone to say something.

Except no one does, they just carry on, and an aunt comes up to you to make a snide comment about your job.

“You absolutely must be struggling financially dear, but aren’t we all? I just wish I could screw a footballer and have my rent paid.”

She’s gone before Jamie can say anything, and he only needs one look at your face to understand exactly what’s going on.

You’re not sweet and kind because your family is sweet and kind. Oh no.

You’re the way you are out of sheer willpower, out of spite; kindness born the way of a weed in concrete. Out of a refusal to die. A decision to be different.

And it pisses Jamie off.

He squeezes your hand once, twice, in reassurance, letting you lead him to your parents. He recognizes them from pictures and still retains a vague hope that they’ll be like you.

Vain, vague hope, but still.

He catches the way your mum’s lips tighten into a line at your approach, and the way your dad barely suppresses a scoff.

“Oh look,” your mum says without an ounce of inflection, “you’re here. That’s wonderful.”

“Good to see you mum, dad,” you say with more grace than Jamie would have if the roles were reversed. Your dad holds out his hand to shake yours, barely acknowledging Jamie. Jamie opens his mouth to say something but you clock it, and shoot him a warning glance.

He freezes and meets your gaze. You shake your head almost imperceptibly and mouth don’t and he almost ignores you, but you’re begging him with your eyes and he swore you’d never have to beg him for anything.

So he turns away and doesn’t say anything, because he won’t be responsible for breaking you today.

And it’s just… like that. All day. It’s relentless and he feels powerless to do a single thing except watch as you refuse to let your armor crack, barely letting it dent the surface.

How did he not know?

It comes to a head when your cousin (a banking twat who Jamie’s certain had a shriveled dick) manages to comment on your weight, (supposed lack of) beauty, and finances in one fell swoop.

And that’s it. Jamie’s done.

They want to be pricks? Well, Roy’s been calling him the Prince Prick of all Pricks for fucking years, so let’s fucking go then.

“Fuck you, you giant limp-dicked twat,” he says with a smile on his face. You freeze, and so does your cousin.

“What did you just say to me?”

“I said,” Jamie repeats loudly, taking a step closer, “fuck you, you giant. Limp-dicked. Twat.” He punctuates each word with a poke to this arsehole’s chest and fuck, does it feel great.

He loves you, he’ll respect your wishes moving forward, but he’ll be FUCKED if he lets your family’s behavior continue. What would mummy say?

The entire room has gone silent, and you’ve gone pale.

But Jamie, Jamie loves an audience.

“Fuck you all, actually,” he sing-songs, and there are audible gasps.

Jamie doesn’t give a shit. “You’re all fucking arseholes to my girl, who, by the way, is the fucking best, except you’re all too fucking busy taking shots at her to notice. Don’t know what the fuck she did to all of you, but you can all piss off with that. We’re fucking leaving.” He grabs your hands and pulls you toward the door.

It’s not like you need much prompting, you’ve been counting down the minutes since you walked in the door.

“Oh,” he says turning around one last time. “Don’t bother calling. Or writing, or whatever you old twats do, unless it’s an apology for however fucking long you’ve been this shitty. I’ve only got one shit parent, can’t imagine the hell it’s been having two.”

And with that, he ushers you out the door.

“Jamie,” you gasp as soon as it shuts behind you. “What was that? What were you thinking?”

There’s a strange tightness to your voice, one Jamie’s having trouble placing.

Or maybe it’s the fact that the sun is setting and it’s tingeing your skin with gold.

Either way, it’s starting to get to him. “Dunno,” he says with a trace of belligerence.

You gape at him for a moment before saying, “Can we get in the car, please?”

Jamie says, “Yeah,” and then helps you in, suddenly aware of every bone in his body.

He swore he wasn’t going to fuck it, and he did. Christ, Keeley’s going to skin him alive.

He drives in silence the whole way home. You’re just staring straight ahead, and he can tell you’re still processing. Still replaying. You’re better than any VAR, that’s for sure.

“Jamie,” you say slowly once he’s parked in the driveway. You’ve unbuckled, but you’re still in your seat. “Why did you say all of that?”

Jamie says again, “Dunno,” but you don’t believe him.

“Why?” you ask again, voice cracking. “It’s not worth it, I’m not worth it.”

And just like that, Jamie understands.

“You are,” he replies forcefully, except that just makes you cry.

(He’s pretty sure they’re good tears, though, so he tests it by reaching for your hand. You don’t pull away, which is a good sign.)

“You are worth it,” he says again, in case you didn’t get it the first time. “Shit family’s… it’s shit, babe. I get it, I really fucking do. I’m sorry about them, I really am. And I’m sorry about me, too. Didn’t mean to say ‘fuck’ so many times, suppose I’m around Roy too much.”

That succeeds in lightening the mood, and you smile ever so slightly.

He says, “They don’t deserve you,” which just makes you laugh.

“I know,” you reply. “I just always wanted them to be a good family.”

Jamie hesitates. He knows what you mean.

Finally he says, “People don’t change like that, love. It’s almost- hardwired into them. They get fucking stuck and you can’t change them, no matter what you do. Sometimes you just gotta let them go.”

You nod and take a deep breath. Easier said than done, you suppose.

Jamie cups your cheek. “I’m with you, babe. It’s you, me, and whatever family we can put together. We’ll put in the work, yeah? Be different.”

“Yeah,” you echo, “we’ll be different.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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hunterbunter3000 · 2 years ago

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Thinking about a fake dating scenario like say Sweets family is always bothering her about not dating anyone and she lies and says “actually I am seeing someone!” But then they ask to meet the person so now she has to find someone ti be her fake date. I would imagine the boys would be fighting each other for a chance to do that.

I know this is super random haha I’m just talking to talk at this point.

YES! AND RANDOM IS GOOD 👏👏 talk the talk and walk the walk babes! Any ideas you have SPEAK ON IT!!! 💓

But omg you're right, they would

Sweetheart walked in the living room, where the team was sitting on the couch drinking beers. She was talking on the phone as she walked past them to the kitchen, not even noticing the boys.

And she's talking to her mom about her love life. Saying "Yes ma! I will bring him this time!" And "You can tell Danni to shut the hell up cause he is real". And then she says love you and hangs up the phone.

Sweetheart, looking at everybody:

The boys looking at her:

Sweetheart: Okay who wants to be my boyfriend for the day

then they all say M E

And all hell breaks loose 💀💀

Soap: What tae FUCK do y'mean 'mE', Ghost?

Ghost: the fuck do YOU mean 'mEaH', Mactavish?

Soap: I SAID ME

Ghost: nah see-- you did it again. 'MeAh'. It's two letters.

Soap: AH WULL PUMPIN' BREAK YE YAH BRITISH CRUMPET

Sweetheart: uhm, guys?

Gaz: Bitch don't even try

Horangi: And why should I listen to you?

Gaz: You get a nose bleed everytime Sweets hugs you.

Horangi: WHAT?? HOW DO-- HOW CAN YOU EVEN SEE THAT I WEAR A MASK

Gaz: it drips under it, bruv. And I don't think her parents want to witness an extremely touched starved man get an aneurysm everytime their daughter touches him.

Sweetheart: GOOD LORD GAZ--

Horangi: OH YOU THINK YOU'RE SO MUCH BETTER? YOU CRY EVERYTIME SWEETHEART TELLS YOU A GOOD JOB

Gaz: YO I DO NOT-

Ghost: He cries when Capitan says it too.

Horangi: THAT TOO

Gaz: GHOST STAY THE FUCK OUT OF THIS

Price: You cry when I tell you good job?

Sweetheart, kinda touched but concerned: And you cry when I say it too?

Gaz: UHM- SIR I-- WELL SWEETS YOU-- FUCK

Krueger: Ignoring the emotionally unstable man--

Gaz: HEY

Krueger: You should take me, Kleine Göttin.

König: Don't, Sweets. You'll never return if you do

Krueger: König what the fuck

Krueger: You can't even talk your way into getting gas at a gas station, you think her parents want to see you freeze like a tortoise having sex when they talk to you?

König: AT LEAST I DONT SNIFF ANY SEATS SWEETHEART WAS IN

Krueger: THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS

König: IT HAS E V E R Y T H I N G TO DO WITH THIS

Sweetheart: Krueger-- YOU DO WHAT

Ghost: He also sniffs your hair

Sweetheart: You do that too, Ghost

Ghost, stares at Krueger: Not while you're sleeping.

Sweetheart: KRUEGER????

Krueger: GHOST SHUT THE FUCK U P

Alejandro: Please don't take Krueger, mama. He would end up in prison

Krueger: (angry German words)

Alejandro: You can take me! They'll love my charm.

Price: What, so you can flirt your way out of personal questions they'll most definitely ask you?

Ghost: Especially with that five-palm forehead you got

Alejandro: CÁLLATE LA BOCA DECORACIÓN DE HALLOWEEN

Rudy: Price, you have no say in this matter. You can practically be her father's golfing buddy.

Sweetheart: uhm, my dad doesn't golf--

Price: I'm 37 you fucking Muppet

Sweetheart: nevermind.

Rudy, surprised: Really?? Damn I didn't know that! You just looked like one of Super Mario's long lost cousins to me because of the janitor mustache you have on your old body

Price: Mother fucker--

Ghost: I don't think you would do well either when you look like a human gopher

Rudy: GHOST WHERE DO YOU KEEP COMING FROM

Alex: ROACH OW STOP HITTING MY FACE

Roach on Alex's shoulders:😠 pap-pap-pap-pap-pap-pap (like a fucking cat)

Sweetheart, rubbing her temples: Oh my fucking GOD- I'LL JUST CHOOSE MYSELF THIS IS TAKING TOO LONG AND GAZ LOOKS LIKE HES ABOUT TO CRY

Gaz, tearing up: I AM NOT

Soap: Me!

Horangi: It's me!

Graves, picking his nails:

Graves: It's probably not me.

Keegan: Uh... If it's no trouble, you can take me. I have to give your brother his game boy back anyway

Everyone looking at Keegan:

Soap: w u t

She takes Keegan.

(He honestly had a good time! Yes, he did start a fire with her siblings accidentally but other than that her parents loved him. Sweetheart sent pictures to everyone and omg they were so SALTY SAD AND JEALOUS. Ghost kinda smiled at a picture with Sweetheart and Keegan together, Keegan's face without the mask and grease paint wearing a nervous but kind smile. He looks happy. The others don't but they'll get over it someday💀💀)

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jynxpsiche · 1 year ago

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Can I request a tangerine x reader??

SURE NO PROB! Hope u all like it!! <3 <3 sorry if it’s short.

Paired with a crush

💌. Summary: Tangerine knew who you were, and he also knew how good and professional you were at your job…

…Tangerine gets paired up with his crush.

💌. Warning: female reader, canon gore, not canon events, fluff, reader’s code name is Ruby, slightly suggestive, mdni. English is not my first language! I don’t know many British slangs!

“Bruv, you sure ya okay?” Lemon’s voice reached his brother’s ears, trying to wake him up from his trance.

Lemon noticed how Tangerine’s figure completely froze when he read a message on his phone. It felt uncharacteristically from him, being completely still and silent for such a long time.

Is he having a heart attack? Thought Lemon, his gaze still locked on his brother.

Slowly, trying not to scare him off, the man approached his brother’s figure, standing still in the middle of the living room.

Just a few minutes ago, the curly-haired man was simply reading a book on the couch when a little ‘ping’ from his phone caught his attention.

With an annoyed groan the man rose from his comfortable position on the couch and picked his phone, which was on the armchair.

Lemon simply observed the scene unfazed since he didn’t discovered any signs of a strange behaviour from his brother. But things changed when the other man checked the phone.

At first the room had fallen into a strange silence, no longer the comfortable silence of before but one that managed to put anyone in the room in awe.

Time seemed to have slowed down and it was also the outside that fell silent. If before Lemon could hear a few cars passing by or simply the urban noises of the city, now even those had suddenly died down and disappeared into thin air.

Very few things in their career had managed to silence Tangerine noticeably. Other things, however, had him talking until Lemon's head burst.

And the subject of his conversations was always her.

Lemon knew by heart the story of how Tangerine had first met the girl, always specifying how his was only an initial hatred that gradually became simple tolerance.

Ruby. This was the name constantly present on his lips.

Firstly, Lemon heard how Tangerine called her an insufferable girl, overconfident and convinced she was better than everyone else.

But afterwards... the situation had completely changed.

He had heard how she had managed to eliminate an entire organisation, kill the boss and complete the job in the shortest possible time. A single week.

Tangerine rarely spoke well of other people, but she was clearly an exception.

Lemon often teased him, just for the fun of it. "Ya only eva talk ‘bout her, ya ‘ave a crush?" But each time the curly-haired man denied it.

It was perfectly normal for him to appreciate the talents of another colleague. The only problem was that Tangerine never made appreciations about others. Only he didn't realise it.

“Mate, the fuck ya doin’?” Asked annoyed Lemon, tired of seeing his brother’s frozen figure in the middle of the living room. With a deep sigh he took place on the large couch, remote control in hand. “I really wan’ta watch Thomas, but I fuckin’ can’t with you in the fuckin’ way.” He said through clenched teeth, irritation evident in his words.

Finally Tangerine woke up from his trance and dumbfoundedly his wide gaze fell on his brother, who was looking at him annoyingly.

With a raise of his eyebrows, the man once again demanded an explanation. Quickly the brother showed his own phone, which was open on a phone number. His contractor for that job.

“Wha’ I’m s’ppos’d to be lookin’ at?” Asked Lemon, a bored expression on his face while his eyes lazily read the message.

With a trembling finger, due to adrenaline and excitement, Tangerine pointed at a specific word, more exactly a phrase.

“You won’t be working alone. You’re partner for this job will be Ruby.” Read the man from the couch but his expression still bewildered. “I still don’t understand, bruv.”

A groan coming from the standing man echoed through the room. Tangerine irritatedly pinched his nose bridge, hoping to calm down a little. “Ya bell end, it’s her.”

His brother only stared at him as if he had grown two heads. “‘m not followin’ mate.”

“Ruby! It’s her. I’ve been partnered up with her!” The man shouted under his breath, eyes wide and full of an enthusiasm that looked too strange on him. He was like a child on Christmas.

Lemon still did not speak. His confusion was still too evident on his face. Yet he should know who his brother was talking about.

Then Heureka.

It was like a lightbulb lightened up on his head. At the same time his eyes grew bigger and his mouth opened wide. “Ooh…got it, got it…” his head bouncing a couple of times in an affermative motion.

Tangerine was ready to answer his brother harshly when his phone rang with an incoming call. An unknown number.

“Who’s it?” Lemon asked pretending to care when in reality his attention was on the television, Thomas & Friends now playing.

“I don’t fuckin’ know— hello, the fuck ya want?” Tangerine answered the phone and the unwelcoming tone he used showed clearly his high irritation and the no patience left.

“Is this how you talk to work partners?” The frown on his face immediately shifted into a stunned expression. The voice from the other side of phone was the most angelic one he ever heard.

He had only watched her from afar, never really interacted with her. That meant that he also never have heard her voice either.

He always imagined how her voice would have been, but his dreams could never be compared to her real voice.

And that first interaction with her left him speechless.

He had always planned his first meeting with the girl. He hoped he could charm the girl with his charm and maybe invite her out. But apparently luck was not on his side.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Tangerine. Even if not in person, for now.” Spoke the voice again, this time waking the man from his temporary trance.

Tangerine cleared his throat, “M’apologise love, wasn’t my intention to speak t’ya like that.” He explained sheepishly. His tone wasn’t his usual one, the rude and annoyed one, but one more submitted and apologetical. Almost…gentle.

Lemon often glanced up at him, unimpressed.

“It’s fine. Now let’s talk about the job.” Ordered the voice from the other side.

Tangerine nodded his head multiple times. “A’right, love.” And off he was, into his office, his figure followed for a short amount of time by Lemon’s unbothered eyes.

Everything needed to go as planned. No one had to fuck up and nothing had to stop them.

They had spent a lot of time on analysing every detail of the job, in order to avoid inconveniences and notarlo failure. The pay was pretty high, so they had to do a proper job.

The contractor, when contacted the two, explained them the type of job: apparently a well-know mafia boss of France had organised a ball in which were invited criminals from all over the world. His intention was to present a poisonous gas capable of killing a large army with the smallest dose.

A woman and a man were standing outside a large villa, where music was blasted from inside.

The two were arm in arm and wore extremely elegant clothes, perfect for the occasion.

“Are you ready, mister Tangerine?” the lady smirked at the man beside her, a confident sparkle in her eyes.

“Always ready, love.” He smirked back.

When they entered the ball room they were pervaded by smoke and loud chatter from the other guests.

Warm lights illuminated the entire room, showing off all the baroque details of the place.

With confident steps, the couple advanced through the room, their arms still entwined with each other and a polite smile on both faces. They had to give a very good impression and not arouse any kind of suspicion.

Their gazes keenly observed the entire environment, the people and especially the blind spots in the room. They could not afford mistakes.

Instinctively, Tangerine abandoned the grip of their arms and encircled her colleague's waist, displaying a strong and secure hold.

That action did not bother the girl; on the contrary, she tried to get as close to his body as possible. Because she felt safe with him.

“A’right love, seen the target yet?”

Their job was to identify the person responsible for selling the poison, kill him as quietly as possible and finally steal all the information concerning the poison.

If they wanted, they could have also blew everyone up once they had completed the main tasks of the job. But they had to remain professional.

The woman analysed each guest, her eyes scanning every little detail in order to find the one described in the documents received.

But there were so many people that it was lightly complicated than normal. His body moved a little closer to that of the man by her side. His cologne immediately reaching her nose.

It would have been a lie to say that she was not attracted to him.

“Nothing. It’s like he’s not even here.” Then something clicked on her mind.

Of course the target wasn’t there!

While the party was going, his job was to anticipate the spread of poison on a global scale. This whole party was just a whole cover.

Suddenly, she brought her face closer to his, her breath tickling his ear. A small smile on her face, to disguise themselves and to not let the cover blow up.

“Most likely he’s not here because he needs to sell the gas earlier, all over the world.” She explained, his eyes fluttering close briefly due to her proximity.

The heart in his chest started beating wildly, as if he had just finished running a marathon.

But in reality he was simply in a sumptuous, baroque-style hall, teeming with people whose intent was simply to shift their attention elsewhere.

Oh, how he wished they could be the only one there. And dance together all the night.

In each other arms.

With a sharp look he scanned the room again, noticing something unusual.

The number of bodyguards was even, as it was well known that the boss did not like odd numbers. According to him, they were bad luck.

Therefore he had decided to place two bodyguards every six metres throughout the hall. But then why were there as many as three bodyguards near one wall?

Something was not right.

"Let's try lookin’ there," he whispered. The girl gave him a confused sideways glance "What? And why?" "Just a guess.”

As his hand gently gripped at her waist, they gracefully moved around the large hall trying to attract as little attention as possible.

Her ample dress sparkled slightly, emphasising the strong colour of the dress. It was very difficult for Tangerine to maintain attention. His grip tightened slightly.

The girl understood her colleague's intentions, having also noticed the unusual position of the three bodyguards.

Now all that was needed was to find a distraction.

But someone up there surely was helping them since a dispute nearby drawn the three bodyguards’ attention.

Swiftly, the couple slipped into the hidden entrance of the hall, initially finding themselves in a simple corridor. Neither a door nor a soul. The corridor was completely empty.

The two began to walk down the dimly lit corridor, walking as lightly as possible on the floor. Surely their intention was not to attract the attention of the guards.

The corridor extended a few more metres and then continued to the left, where it ended in a security door.

A code was required to enter.

“I got it” she said under her breath, pulling a little bottle spray from between her breasts. The perfect hiding spot thought Tangerine with a satisfied look.

The door creaked open and the couple was met with a dark laboratory.

Long, thin shelves filled with vials containing yellowish liquid ran along the entire front wall. Machines were positioned on several metal tables. But no sign of the scientist responsible.

However, a strong smell of chemicals and smoke could still be smelled in the air, a sign that the machinery had recently been switched off.

The feminine figure gracefully wondered around the immense laboratory, observing closely the vials. The man behind her approached a cabinet in a corner.

“This isn’t what we’re looking for. These are just wrong prototypes.” She exclaimed, picking a vial between her fingers.

Tangerine only hummed approvingly, immediately losing interest in the empty cabinet. But something caught his attention.

One of the shelves seemed shallow compared to the others and only an experienced eye would have noticed this.

Tapping the bottom of the shelf with his hand, Tangerine noticed the wall moving slightly. With his fingers he managed to move the bottom, revealing a black button.

Suddenly the locker opened with a slight click and promptly Tangerine opened the new entrance with both hands.

From the back of the new entrance he heard the clatter of some metal objects. A whispered mutter prompted the man to move.

Without wasting any time he hurried down the narrow dark corridor, following the noise coming from the other side. One hand was already ready on the gun hidden in his trousers.

But before he could leap into action, a bullet grazed his cheekbone. A cry of exasperation escaped his lips. “Tan-“ she was calling out for him but in a second his figure was running back, where she was.

His voice interrupted hers “Ruby! Ruby! Take cover!”another bullet now grazed his tight.

Both of them were on either side of the door, their backs to the wall and their heads turned towards the entrance.

Quick bullets flew all the way down the corridor to the entrance, preventing the two from controlling the situation.

“We need to rush in!” “Ya crazy! D’ya hav’ a death wish or som’thin’?” “Tangerine it’s the only way in! You have better ideas?!” The man only looked at her, his blue eyes pierced into hers “Just…just please Ruby, don’ get hurt.”

The woman smiled sweetly at him “You can call me (Y/n)” she said before jumping in action.

He followed her figure with a love sick look in his eyes.

a/n !

I know I know shitty ending, didn’t really know how to end this one. I still hope you all liked it and sorry if I’m posting frequently but I’m not home right now!

Love you all and take care! <3

#bullet train 2022 #tangerine #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train #lemon bullet train #lemon x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #fanfic

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girlfailuresrants · 2 months ago

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Okay I’m not like an official COD writer at all, my blog isn’t even related to it (besides the creators whom I interact with). But like give me a Simon Riley with a partner his age, as much as I love the self indulgent age gap with a younger partner (in most cases women but like, who knows he might be fruity, give him a man idk) anyway like, I think a man who has lived so many horrors wouldn’t really like a soft, pliant person who still has much to learn, it’d become a drag really. Give me a Simon Riley who has a partner who’s just as stubborn, who’s seen the (normal civilian) horrors, who knows grief and loss, no one will know the things he has gone through unless they go through those things themselves, but an older adult, someone his age or maybe even older is just fitting sometimes. Someone who’s tired, someone who has it together, or doesn’t, who’s lived enough to be as scared of he is of intimacy, or love or someone who’s just disillusioned with the world, hell maybe someone bitter while we’re at it. Who got cheated on or even cheated on their last partner. Simon Riley with a partner who’s thrice divorced, who has children (maybe grandchildren while we’re at it). Maybe give him an alcoholic who’s been sober for twenty plus years (to see the other side of alcoholism, after recovery, what happens and what causes someone to get better). Maybe give him someone who’s ex took everything away from them, who doesn’t like parties, who actually condemns the work he does. There’s so many possibilities than just “perfect, sweet young thing who sees him as perfect and who he sees as perfect” noooooo make him annoyed by the habits they’ve got, make him work for it!!!!! Make him see this person and be like “damn wtf bruv why are you like this” it doesn’t have to be toxic, just a little more wonky, annoying, realistic, both of them shutting down and staying quiet, someone prideful. Someone who actually can’t stand the radio silence when he goes on missions, who makes him choose “the world or me”, someone who doesn’t want children, someone who hates pets because of the high maintenance, someone who’s just as a workaholic as he is, someone who’s lived. The possibilities are endless mmfmdndgghh

#girlfailuresrants #girlfailuresworld #girlfailuresworld talks #bambi speaks #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod mwii #call of duty #ghost mw2 #simon ghost x reader

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danistartt · 2 years ago

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When Worlds Collide (it is Wonderful)- Dani Rojas

pairings: dani rojas x reader, the richmond team warnings: nervous reader, language about: request! dani introducing you to the team

Dani is ecstatic. He’s been ecstatic for three days and pre-ecstatic for two, grinning at you brazenly when he remembers today.

You… aren’t, so much.

You should’ve told him, you think as he leads you inside the Richmond building, chattering away excitedly about each member of the team. He mentions how nice Sam is and you’re reminded of how much he loves them. You stop abruptly, Dani tugging on your arm when he fails to notice.

He turns back to you and cocks his head in the sweet puppy way he does, saying your name in question. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m nervous,” you blurt.

“I thought you were excited?” he asks, stepping closer. You stare up at him worriedly and squeeze his hand.

“I was. I am. I want to meet them, they’re important to you, but that’s why I’m so nervous, too.” Your eyes round in concern. “What if they hate me? They’re a big part of your life and if they hate me, I—”

“Why would they hate you?” he wonders incredulously. “Mi amor, I do not think anyone could hate you.”

“But what if they do?” you insist. “What if I’m actually awful and I’ve trapped you with my siren song without even knowing?” you whimper.

“No,” Dani murmurs, wrapping his arms around you. You melt on contact, the unbelievable heat of him immensely comforting. “You do not have a siren song. And if you do, then I do not mind. They will love you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. I talk about you all the time and I love you. If they are not at least a little in love with you already, I will be surprised.” Dani smiles at your stilted laugh. “They told me they were excited to meet you.”

“I don’t want to disappoint them. Or you.”

Dani pulls away to make sure you’re looking him in the eyes. “You could not. Even if you tried really, really hard.”

Your face crumples.

Dani panics. “Did I say something?”

“Yes,” you cry, pulling him back to you. You raise a hand up to your eyes and wipe away your fear. Taking a deep breath, you nod. “I’m ready,” you tell him, standing up straight and squaring your shoulders.

“Wonderful,” he says pleasantly, picking right back up where he left off. “Coach Roy screams a lot, but he is very kind. He has a niece named Phoebe who he brought one day and gave us all friendship bracelets.” His own drags against the hand he holds, a bubblegum bead at the end of thick string bouncing on your wrist. “Jamie, of course, is my best friend.”

You laugh. “I can’t wait to meet them all.”

“I cannot wait either,” he says, very nearly bouncing on his heels. “This is like two of my favorite worlds colliding into one big, even more wonderful world.”

You chortle, squeezing his hand.

“All the coaches are there. Coach Lasso was very excited about meeting you. I think he got cupcakes.”

“Really?” you ask.

“I talk about you a lot.”

Another squeeze, desperate to send a loving spark up his arm. You think it reaches when he squeezes back.

You both pause outside the door, staring at the doorknob. Dani buzzes in your hand, but he glances up at you, soft eyes wonderful and kind. “Do not worry, okay? Javier is much tougher than them and he liked you a lot.”

You nod. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

When Dani pushes the door open, you are not prepared for the silence. You expect what you think is common of a locker room—loud guy noises, strewn exhausted footballers. Instead, you find all the thirty-something footballers standing straight in a very organized line, the coaches standing in front of what you assume is the office. One holds a small, pink box in his hands, a carton of cupcakes against his hip.

“Hello,” you say awkwardly, glancing at each face that stares back at you.

“Dani!” One bellows happily. “We were waitin’ for ya, bruv.”

“Yeah,” another chimes, “we was standin’ here for, like, five minutes.”

“Good impressions,” one at the far end chimes in.

Dani is glowing, agreeing with everything they’re saying. “This is my amor,” he says proudly, presenting you to the team. They stare for a second before the room erupts in elated noise, men coming up to you to tell you varying introductions. You catch some names and recognize some faces, trying your best to keep up with each person.

“Oi!” Someone yells, the team quieting and parting for the source of the voice. Low, bushy brows atop a dark beard introduce you to Roy. “Will we show some fucking manners?” He smiles at you a little gruffly and offers you a hand, the blue tail of a bracelet matching Dani’s swinging lightly against your wrist. “I’m Roy.”

“I’ve heard,” you reply, accepting. His handshake is as firm as you’d expect.

“So’ve we,” he tells you.

“Hi there,” Treats Man says, peeking over Roy’s shoulder with a friendly wave. “I’m Ted. That’s Coach Beard over there.” He gestures to a man off to the side, arms crossed across his chest. He offers you a nod. “We hear you’re with our little ray of sunshine, huh?”

You’re inclined to agree. “I’ve heard a lot. About everyone. I didn’t expect such a… big hello. Dani said I’d just come by after practice and put some voices to faces.”

“Nah. We showered and everythin’,” a player says proudly. “Isaac said we should.”

The man who had first spoken ducked his chin in agreement.

“Thank you,” you laugh.

“Are you impressed?” a man with short hair asks.

“Definitely.”

They all cheer, must to Roy’s dismay.

Dani takes this as a cue to start speaking, pointing players out and telling you their names. Sam smiles at you warmly and gives you a hug. Jamie nods at you, Colin tells you about one of the things Dani’d said about you, Moe kisses your hand, and Zoreaux says Dani hadn’t done you justice. Even Rebecca Welton comes down to meet you, offering free box seats for the next game.

You become very well aware that the team may already know you better than you had thought. Dani seems pleased about this fact. You can’t find it in yourself to be upset.

At the end of the meet, you realize every member of the team wears a colorful bracelet. You kind of can’t wait to get yours.

#dani rojas #dani rojas x reader #ted lasso #dani rojas fanfiction #dani rojas imagine #dani rojas x y/n #dani rojas x you #dani rojas fanfic #dani rojas fic #dani rojas fluff #richmond team x reader

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coleskingdom · 8 months ago

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Hall Pass

Jay White x Female Reader

NSFW Minors DNI 18+

@midwestmade29

You need these” Jay handing me his sunglasses even though we were just sitting down for lunch in catering. “What? Why?” my attention drawn elsewhere. “If you’re going to stare at golden boys ass like that, at least do it from behind the glasses.” there was no humor in his tone. Just then Mariah walked in Jay reached back for the glasses putting them on as his head slightly followed her across the room.

I roll my eyes dramatically at him “I’ve lost my appetite.” pushing back from the table. “Sit, Sweetheart. If I didn’t eat every time you stared at golden boy , I would’ve starved to death by now.” he growled only low of enough for me to hear. I glared at him, as I took a bite. “A lesser man would’ve left you for your disrespectful eye fucking of golden boy. I however am not a lesser man. In fact from what I hear a romp with him isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” his wink and smirk had me wanting to stab him with my fork.

“ Why are you so ruffled? I saw that flash in your eyes. I’m a fair man, if you want a night of being pounded in to and being called Bruv, I’ll say yes, but you’ll have to say yes to me taking Mariah back to the hotel, but I know what I’m getting into. Those stardom girls are something different all together.”he made the chefs kiss motion. “I’m done here.” pushing back from the table and walking out of the room I heard his laugh as I left , Mariah taking a seat next to him as I glanced back.

“Ugh, I fucking hate him” slamming the door behind me entering into the Bullet Club Gold locker room. “ Who do you hate?” the unmistakable voice of Skye asked sitting up from the couch in the room. “What the fuck?”completely caught off guard staring at her. “ Hey now, Jay said I could lay down in here. He’s a real sweetheart. Seriously though, are you okay?” as she made room on the couch. “ No, yes, maybe. Jays the nod infuriating man I’ve ever met.” Sitting down “ But what did you do?” Nudging my shoulder playfully. “ Apparently I was staring at Wills ass.” she laughed “Its not funny. He then started staring at Mariah. Who the hell can compete with that and she just sat down with him as I left.” I put my head in my hands. “ It’s funny I got in the same situation twice with Kyle. Once for Will and once for Jay.” I looked at my jaw dropped .”Come on, look at him, he’s all abs and attitude. You know what you have. Don’t act shocked that I looked at him.” Smirking at me. “So why Will? Aside from his God like body. I get to say that because I’m sharing an apartment with him and Kyle. What is that keeps pulling your attention away?.” I hesitated “I’m your best friend just tell me.” Her hand taking mine. “ You’re right about abs and attitude with Jay. I don’t know he’s like that golden retriever puppy he’s just so fucking happy and nice. I’ll be fine and I’m gonna stop looking at Will. Jay thinks it’s all about that and I quote be pounded and called bruv. When it’s more like I want to have a burger and a laugh.” I sighed “ I trust Jay implicitly and I get why he did what he did, but he offered me a hall pass for Will if he could have one with her.” looking at my bestie “ Holy shit what did you say? Is Jay really okay with that ?Everyone knows he’s batshit crazy over you.” I got up and began to pace “ I didn’t say anything what the hell could I say, I was pissed and hurt that he’d actually say that. Maybe he’s tired of me, maybe it’s closer to being over than it is for forever. Fuck if I know. I’ve got to get out of here before he comes in here.” moving toward my bag. “Want my opinion I think you are handling too much of his shit? But I’m gonna say this because I love all three of you. Don’t take the hall pass and don’t give him one either. Will’s not for you, but if you want that burger and a laugh come out with me and Kyle, Will, and Mark I can make that happen.” She stood and hugged me. “I’m gonna head out I think you and Jay have some shit to talk about.” she left just as I was debating about following her.

“Sweetheart where are you headed?” Jay’s mocking tone filling the room as he and Skye passed each other. “ None of your fucking business.” walking towards him. “ Tsk tsk you know our rule we don’t leave each other mad. Besides the best part of fighting is the fucking afterwards.” he stalked me till my back was up against the wall. “ So are we done fighting?” his hand tracing my face the other one finding my hip.

“ Mariah not available?” I seethe but my body craves his touch. “You’d look so pretty wearing my hand as a necklace “ his fingers tracing the side of my neck his thumb pressing lightly causing me to gasp. “Sweetheart, there’s no one, that I want or need more than you.” his kiss sure and deep, his hand keeping my focus only on him. “ Keep looking at me like you want to fuck me but you also want to kill me." His hands thread in my hair, as he continues to kiss me. His hips move and he growls a bit of delight in the back of his throat. His hand pulls my hair harder, and it's like I'm completely swallowed by him.

I fall into that kiss, tumbling deep into this moment, forgetting about everything.

His fingers keep dip below my waistband stroking my pussy over my panties, the other hand gripping my ass. His hard body pins me against the wall and I wrap my arms around his neck, going insane with bliss. "You're fucking soaked," Jay’s voice amused. “You're touching me of course I am.” His mouth buries mine, hungry now, and his fingers slip underneath and tease up and down my slit. I'm moaning into his tongue and I don't care anymore as his fingers slide inside of me, fucking me nice and deep. Oh my god, he presses against that spot inside me . My knees go limp and he's supporting my weight as his fingers stroke in and out, hitting the spot over and over. My eyes roll back, l'm moaning, mindless, insane with pleasure, and he's not stopping.

He bites my lower lip and whispers, "Come for me, sweetheart, come on, you need it, don't you?"

"Yes," | gasp, shaking as I shatter on his hand. I come in a sudden rush, my fingers digging into his back, my cheeks tingling. "Good girl”he whispers my head resting on his shoulder.

“Jay, I’m…” his finger on my lips silenced me. “ I took it to far I’m sorry.” kissing my forehead. “Just the idea of you..” I put my finger on his lips this time.

#aew smut.#aew smut #aew fanfiction #switchblade jay white x reader #jay white x you #jay white fanfiction #jay white smut #switchblade jay white smut

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renx01 · 9 months ago

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Betrayed - part 2

Part 1

Prompt: Your father is the head of a criminal enterprise, one which has come onto the kingsman’s radar. Galahad has the task to get closer to said head, so he starts dating you. After a lot of apprehension on your side, you finally let your walls be broken down by him. That is until you find out that he’s been using you all along. Pairing: Harry Hart x (GN!)Reader Fandom: Kingsman Tags/Warnings: angst, manipulation, established relationship Word count: 2611

You sit there in silence, tears streaming down your face. ‘Harry.’ The whisper would be inaudible to anyone but him. ‘Do it. It’s what I deserve.’ His left hand moves to hold the gun in place as you try to pull it away. ‘No, Harry.’ Your voice comes out strained. ‘I love you.’ There’s a brief pause. ‘I betrayed you, can’t you see that?’

‘If you really had, you would’ve killed me already.’

His grip on the gun loosens as he puts his forehead to yours and looks you in the eye. ‘Dear, you know I can’t do that.’ He sighs. ‘Now please, shoot me or I’ll do it myself.’ Pain is all you see in his eyes. ‘Harry, I-’

As you’re about to say something to him, your door bursts open, a young guy pointing a gun at you. ‘Drop the gun or I’ll blow your head off!’ He shouts at you as he walks around the table, so you quickly let it fall to the ground. ‘Harry, you alright bruv?’ Harry looks terribly confused as he stands up.

‘What are you doing here Eggsy?’

‘Saving your arse, isn’t that obvious?’ He looks the man over for any wounds. ‘Glad to see you’re okay. Now what’re we doing about this person?’ You still sit there, kneeling on the ground as you look at Harry who is pinching the bridge of his nose. He was obviously annoyed that things didn’t go as he’d planned. Swiftly, he grabs his glasses and puts them back on, it is as if a switch was flipped inside him. ‘Eggsy, please stop pointing your gun at my fiancé.’ The boy’s mouth almost drops onto the floor. Ignoring the obvious shock, Harry continues speaking. ‘Merlin, I need you to arrange for these bodies to be taken away and this mess to be cleaned up.’ He turns to you, his emotions unreadable once again. ‘Love, please stand up. I suppose I have some explaining to do.’

Harry had led you to his office before sitting you down. Getting out some tissues, he slowly started cleaning the blood off your hands and arms. It was silent, with Harry only giving a few instructions when he needed you to do something. The silence itself was calm, yet the tension had not dissipated. You were stiff as a board while he couldn’t bear to look you in the face. When he had almost fully cleaned the blood from your hands and arms, he finally spoke. ‘I’m sorry it had to come to this darling.’ His hands squeeze yours. ‘I’d hoped I would have more time to explain everything to you. To live a relatively normal life with you for a bit longer.’ You pull one of your hands out of his grip and stroke his hair trying to comfort him. Looking at the situation, it is awful all around.

‘Harry.’

He finally looks at you and you slowly put your hand on his cheek. ‘Please, don’t leave me.’ You whisper. ‘My love, I would but-’ ‘Harry, I need you. Now more than ever.’ A tear slowly starts falling down your face, but he reaches up and wipes it away. ‘I’m not sure if I can, but I’ll do everything in my power to stay with and protect you. Even if I have to move heaven and earth.’ Slowly, he stands up. ‘I’ll be back momentarily.’ The emotion which had laced his voice moments before disappeared suddenly. ‘Promise me, Harry.’

‘I promise.’

Minutes, which feel like hours, pass before anyone joins you again. The room is silent and the papers which hang on its walls feel almost suffocating. Silently, you stand up and leave the chair which is stood behind Harry’s desk. You need answers. Despite having noticed odd behaviours before this evening, you hadn’t expected this. Him not explaining everything to you before leaving the room didn’t help with the doubt you felt. You start looking in his dressers and around his desk. Everything seems normal; that is until you accidentally hit a button on the corner of his desk. It moves like a handle, and you find it opens a section of his wall to reveal an entire arsenal of guns and other weapons. A small gasp escapes you. Gathering yourself once more, you approach it and examine the various weapons. The guns were pretty familiar to you, as they were similar to what you grew up around, just more advanced. The same goes for the knives, which look to be pretty standard. What confuses you, however, are the several umbrellas and glasses which are on display. You grab an umbrella, which looks to be the same as the ones Harry often carries on him. Twisting and turning it, it doesn’t look to be any different from a normal one, that is until you open it, revealing a shield-like structure which allows you to look through. Quickly, you close and put it back. You decide it’d be wiser to look at the things which do not appear to be a weapon, like the glasses. Again, they look to be pretty normal, and you supposed they couldn’t be too dangerous as Harry wore them on an almost daily basis. You put them on, expecting to see how awful his vision was. What you didn’t expect was for it to show you a live feed of wherever Harry was and whoever he looked to be talking to.

‘Harry, you can’t be serious bruv.’ The young man you’re seeing through the glasses says before a scottish voice from an unknown source joins in. ‘Galahad, I knew of this mission, what it entailed, and how long it’d been going on, but you cannae tell me that you’ve fallen in love with a target.’ There’s a silence and you hold your breath, waiting for his response. ‘But I did and here we are. I cannot leave them, they’re the only person that’s ever made me some sort of way. It’s either you allow me to stay with and marry them or I’ll leave kingsman and marry them anyway.’ His voice cracks. You see how his hands move to cover his eyes, followed by hearing soft muffled sounds. ‘Harry, it’ll be alright. Just take your time and explain everything to them.’ He doesn’t reply but the muffled sounds continue. This is a side you’d never seen of him and hoped to never see again. At least not in this way, where you couldn’t go and comfort him. Slowly, you pull off the glasses and put them back into their designated spot. ‘I don’t know what to do; how to feel.’ You whisper to yourself as you sit back down.

For about half an hour, you continue to sit there in silence before someone opens the door. It’s a bald gentleman wearing glasses. ‘Hello there. Harry’s asked me to come get you.’ His voice seems hesitant, but you recognise the tone and Scottish accent from when you were wearing Harry’s glasses. You stand up and silently follow him out of the office and into the dining room. ‘I’m Merlin, a colleague of Harry’s.’ He looks at you and smiles. ‘He’ll explain everything to you momentarily. He just had to get some clearance to be able to do so.’ Merlin stops in front of the door which leads into the living room. ‘He does love you, dearly. Otherwise he wouldn’t be doing all this.’ Immediately after telling you, he opens the door, motioning for you to walk in. When you do, he closes the door behind you, leaving you and Harry alone. ‘Sit down dear. We have much to discuss.’

The rest of that evening was spent with Harry, which was in fact his real name, talking and you listening to him. He explained that while he did initially approach you because of your ties to your father, but as he got to know you he slowly started falling. You had won him over with your personality and intellect, and slowly, he started to feel guilty. But, he had hope and wanted to spend his life with you, which had resulted in him asking for your hand in marriage, despite the rules the kingsman had concerning relationships. The subject of your father and his business was one he had wanted to discuss, but life had caught up and your father ended up catching him before he could talk to you about it. It was difficult and you weren’t certain how your relationship would progress, but you knew that the both of you would try to make it work. The following weeks and months were spent with Harry showing you around Kinsman and introducing you to his colleagues. Merlin and Eggsy, who you’d met before, were his closest colleagues and friends. They were very close and he seemed particularly fond of Eggsy. He acted almost protective over him, as if he were his own son. He also looked to be quite fond of the younger agent Lancelot, who had actually beaten Eggsy in the recruitment process. Eggsy was able to join Kingsman eventually, with Harry being the main reason for it, though he wouldn’t explain how. He had been quite convinced of the young man’s skills and pulled some strings behind the scenes to make it possible. One of the nights, the two of you stayed at Kingsman HQ a bit longer and had dinner with Merlin and Eggsy. ‘So… you and Harry are staying together?’ The younger man enquires awkwardly and Harry, who had been having a casual conversation with Merlin, turns to him. ‘Yes Eggsy, we’ve been working things out amongst ourselves and we’re quite happy together.’ His gaze turns to you and he smiles. ‘Though we did have some serious conversations about the implications of our relationship and how it originally began.’ You nod. ‘We are taking our time, but I’m quite positive we’ll get out of this even stronger.’ Harry squeezes your hand in response and leans towards your ear. ‘I would like to get married at some point relatively soon; at least if you’re comfortable with that.’ He whispers. It had been over half a year since the incident with your parents had happened and you’ve slowly been building up each other’s trust. The initial months had been very difficult, but you understood that the person you love had done it to protect himself and his relationship with you. ‘I’d like that, agent Galahad.’ As he leans in to kiss you, you’re interrupted by Merlin making a coughing noise. ‘Now you lovebirds, we’re still at the dinner table and you aren’t alone.’

That night, the two of you lay in bed together. ‘My love.’ Harry says as he rolls over and looks at you. ‘I was thinking. Why don’t we get married in a small, closed ceremony? Nothing too fancy, just us and our closest friends.’ He pushes your hair out of your face. ‘Then run off to a far-away destination for a couple of weeks.’ You lean your forehead against his. ‘That actually sounds wonderful.’ The two of you kiss momentarily. ‘When?’ The smile on your face is positively mischievous. ‘How about next month? With how things are going, I should be able to get a few weeks off.’ ‘Sounds wonderful, mister Hart.’ He whispers in your ear before kissing you passionately. ‘I’ll talk to Merlin about it dear.’ So, he did. The following day he talked to Merlin and arranged for him to have some time off. Apparently, this was the first time in just over 10 years that he’s taken time off from Kingsman, so they were quite happy to oblige, especially since they have Eggsy to fill in for him during that time. You were quite surprised by that, while you knew he really loves his job, you didn’t know he was this committed. He had told you that he was in his early twenties when he had joined the organisation and the last time he’d taken some time off was when he’d caught the flu, about 5 years into having the job. With you in your early thirties, you couldn’t imagine not having had a proper holiday for so long. Despite this, he decided that he should be able to take time off for about a month and started organising your honeymoon, the destination of which remained a surprise to you on Harry’s insistence.

The day of your wedding had approached quickly. Despite only doing a civil ceremony, it was quite the celebration. Most of Harry’s colleagues and your friends had joined you for it, heading to the Kingsman estate for a small party afterwards. Now, you’re sitting at a table with your husband next to you holding your hand. Next to him sit Merlin and Eggsy, while your best friend and grandmother sit besides you. The rest of the room is filled with other friends, acquaintances, and a few family members who are sitting around several tables and talking amongst themselves. Your attention is diverted from Harry by someone tapping their glass with a spoon, something people usually do when they want to do a speech. It’s Eggsy, who looks quite nervous. ‘Excuse me.’ He hesitates momentarily before continuing. ‘I’d like to make a speech.’ He smiles at Harry. ‘I want to start off by saying that I am very happy for Harry. Over the past few years he’s helped me become a much better version of myself and I would like to thank him for that. However, that isn’t why we are gathered here today. My mentor has decided to marry his partner, which I am delighted about. Ever since they’ve been together, Harry has seemed more energetic and happier than ever before.’ He turns to you. ‘I want to thank you for being there for Harry, even in the darkest of times for the both of you, and for making him a better man.’ Eggsy sits back down quietly. The rest of the evening was spent listening to a few more speeches, followed by a relatively calm party where you and Harry talked, danced, and drank, like a lot. Towards the end of it, as the guests continued to drink and party, the two of you snuck off to your room. The night was still young and together you spent most of it enjoying it as a newly wed couple.

The following afternoon Harry took you to a small airport and Merlin was there, ready to fly you to wherever you were going. He greeted you with a smirk as Harry took your luggage up the stairs. Again, you had no clue where you were heading, but you trusted your husband. You decided to read a book while on the flight. It was quiet, but the silence was comfortable, you and your other half sitting next to each other. His hand rests on your knee while he himself reads the paper. The remainder of the, seemingly short, flight was spent in this manner. ‘Dearest,’ he pauses, ‘please close your eyes.’ You do and he leads you outside, the warm air hitting your face. ‘Now, where do you suppose we are?’ The air felt familiar, as if you’d been there many times. ‘Italy?’ You ask and he tells you to open your eyes. You recognise the airport quickly and you turn to him. ‘Tuscany, that’s lovely dear.’ ‘I’m glad you’re excited.’ He leans down to kiss you. ‘I arranged with your grandparents that we can stay in their estate for a week before we start travelling around.’ His hand, which is placed on your lower back, slowly pushes you towards the car which stands at the ready.

Taglist: @hereforthefandoms12

#ao3 writer #fanfic #harry hart #fanfiction #harry hart imagine #harry hart reader insert #harry hart x reader #kingsman #kingsman imagine #kingsman reader insert #the kingsman #eggsy unwin #merlin kingsman #Galahad kingsman

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mariamakeslemons · 3 months ago

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Kinktober 2024: Day 4 Watersports

Warning: more fluff than actual sex, mentions of past bad relationship, and of course mention of watersports (I know people are squicked by it, please pass if you don't like it)

The food on your fork drops back to the plate, but you don’t really notice. You did, however, look around the table and take note of the others’ reactions. Simon had paused before sipping his drink, Kyle is staring at his plate blankly, and Price curses as some of his own drink drips onto his shirt.

“Could you repeat that?” you ask after a pause.

“Ah wanna try watersports,” Johnny repeats, a look of determination being undermined by the red creeping up his cheeks. You open your mouth to say… something, before snapping it closed and dropping your head with a sigh.

“Bad timing, Johnny,” Simon gently scolds, although he sounds a little amused. Johnny sticks his tongue out at Simon while Price wipes off his chest and Kyle seems to snap out of his existential crisis.

“Why?” Kyle whines and you wince. You remember on a solo date with Kyle, how he told you about trying watersports with a previous partner and ended up stinking because they refused to go a day drinking just water, despite him asking. Of course, he dumped that partner immediately after, but it also put him off watersports.

“Ah wanna be owned,” Johnny explains carefully, obviously having thought this through, “Ah’m nae gonna hev ye dae it, ‘f ye daen’ wanna. Bu’, ah’ve bin thinkin’ boot ‘is fer a while.” Kyle immediately relaxes, nodding and smiling a little.

“Well, don’t look at me, bruv,” he says, “That’s one that I won’t do ‘gain.”

“Fair,” Johnny accepts, before shyly turning to you and the other two men, “Anyone else?”

“‘M in,” Simon growls, “Wouln’t mind showin’ you yer place, Pup.” Johnny shivers, his pupils blowing out wide as they turn to you and John.

“Not one for pissin’ on people,” John decides after a minute, “But I wouldn’t mind watchin’.”

“I’m not a pee-er,” you declare, “Tried it with a past partner, and it was just okay. Not good enough for me to seek it out, but…”

“Unenthusiastic consent,” Kyle pipes in, obviously remembering your own story with watersports. While better than his, it led you to decide that watersports isn’t a squick, it’s just not something you like preforming on people and you’re okay with someone doing it on you.

“Basically,” you admit. Johnny nods, pouting a little at no one else wanted to do it too him. However, Simon takes a long drink of water before grinning,

“Finish yer food, Pup,” he rumbles, “We’re showerin’ after.” Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at how quickly Simon is on board, after having to talk him through a basic bondage session that wasn’t even using ropes. But, with how eager Johnny shovels food into his mouth and how John is adjusting himself…

“Hey, Kyle,” you say, “Wanna see how many episodes we can watch before they’re done?”

“Hell, yeah,” Kyle agrees with a grin, taking his time to finish his own meal. You hum, accepting the rain of kisses you and Kyle get from the other three men before they disappear into the bathroom.

“You got a show in mind?” you ask, picking up your empty plate and taking Kyle’s as well.

“Not yet, Love,” he admits, “But I’ll have something when you return.” You kiss him on the cheek and clean off the table, dropping the dishes into the dishwasher after scraping off the few food bits that clung stubbornly to the plates. Returning to the room, you laugh at the image of Alton Brown holding up a suitcase full of money.

“Oh boy,” you giggle, dropping onto the couch to cuddle against Kyle. He chuckles and presses play, the two of you relaxing as you wait for the others to return.

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

Four episodes finish before Johnny stumbles out of the bathroom, wearing a fluffy robe and his mohawk fluffing from the towel running over it.

“Hug?” he asks, so far in Sub space that he can only say one-word sentences. Immediately, you and Kyle shift on the couch and welcome the freshly showered Scot.

“John’s asserting his dominance on Simon?” you ask, petting at his soft hair. Johnny nods into Kyle’s chest, reaching back blindly to try tugging you onto him. With a huff, you follow, laying on Johnny, who’s laying on Kyle. The “sub” sandwich, as Simon likes to joke, as if he isn’t part of a “sub” when John’s around.

“They’ll be a bit,” Kyle hums, looking down at Johnny, “Good scene, Soap?” Again, Johnny nods, with a happy hum as he presses a kiss to Kyle’s chest. You both laugh softly before settling back in for more mindless telly, waiting for John and Simon to finish their personal shower.

#my work #n/s/f/w #kinktober 2024 #poly141 x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader

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hexalianrebel-blackfeathers · 1 year ago

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British Taxi

Panda's Notes: It's done!! The third of what was only three ideas I had for Across the Spider-Verse! ...I have at least three more ideas now. >w< I had so much fun with this one, so I hope you guys like it too. [Ao3] || [Commissions] || [Ko-fi]

“’Sup, losers?” Hobie threw up a peace sign to the small group sitting at a table in the HQ cafeteria. “Aye, Mayday.”

The trio, plus Mayday, kind of just…stared. Mayday laughed, and the others were struggling not to smile.

“Okay, what are you two doing?” Gwen finally spoke up, motioning curiously at this little arrangement. Only at the mention of there being two of them did Miles start snickering. He slightly adjusted his hold on Hobie’s legs, pacing in a small circle and looking particularly proud of himself. Hobie had one arm hooked around his shoulders, his chin occasionally resting on his head.

“Don’t really understand the question, Gwenny.” Hobie shrugged, draping his free arm lazily over Miles’ shoulder. “Ain’t doin’ much.”

“Miles, what are you doing?” She tried again, barely managing to stifle her giggles.

Miles shrugged, chuckling a bit himself. “I dunno; it was his idea.” The others around the table nodded, and Hobie stuck his tongue out at them. “He’s not even heavy; his legs are just really long.”

“Not my fault you’re still a munchkin.” He poked the side of Miles’ head, smirking as he huffed.

“Well, it’s not my fault you look like a palm tree.”

“Oi—”

Miles spun casually, and the others giggled. “Gotta be honest; I feel like I could have picked him up before the spider strength. Like, have you guys even seen this guy eat anything? I have literally never seen him eat food.”

“Alright, you’re takin’ the Mick, I’m out.” Hobie shook his head and leaned back. He pressed his palms to the floor, heaving Miles up off the ground with his legs with hardly any effort.

“H-Hobie!” Miles yelped, flailing for a moment before sticking his hands to Hobie’s boots and pushing himself up. The table laughed and applauded softly at their double handstand, and Hobie chuckled, reaching to adjust his guitar before turning to face them.

“You two are something else.” Peter chuckled, watching Gwen crouch on the floor to get a picture of them.

“Always.” Hobie smirked, pulling a face as the camera flashed and smirking when Gwen socked his arm. “Oi, shorty, you want to switch?”

“What? And have you perched on my legs? Not likely.” Miles called.

Hobie snorted, starting to shift as if he were going to throw him off. “Nah, bruv, I’ll carry you. Go for a walkabout and all.”

Miles’ eyes had lit up, but he quickly acted as if they hadn’t. “Seriously?” He struggled for balance before pushing himself away as Hobie rolled out from under him.

“Never serious, mate.” He said with a sneer, hopping to his feet and starting to walk. “But I’ll still do it.”

“Uh, Miles, maybe you should—”

Miles turned to see Gwen shoving at Pavitr’s face, and she motioned him to follow after Hobie with a bright grin.

Hobie had glanced back with a noticeable smirk, schooling his expression as Miles turned to him again. Pavitr bat Gwen’s hand away once they were definitely out of earshot.

“Why didn’t you let me warn him?” He asked, smiling bemusedly.

She just shrugged, already snickering to herself. “Nobody warned me!”

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

Hobie had walked Miles to one of the nearby basic training rooms: not as big as, say, the rooms for swinging practice, or even the hallways just outside. But it was quiet, and Hobie took a deep breath before stretching a bit.

“So, you’re really going to do this, huh?” Miles asked with a skeptical grin. “You’re not too cool to carry me around?”

“I do what I want, mate; that’s what makes me cool.” Hobie joked, shoving lightly at Miles’ face. “’Less you don’t want to all of a sudden. Ain’t one or the other for me.”

He smirked as Miles swatted his arm away, watching him fidget around with his sleeves and hood for a second. He brought his own hands up, finding the buckle on his guitar strap to loosen it. He didn’t move much or comment as Miles approached him, holding his guitar slightly to one side while the teen crawled up onto his back.

“You sure we’re okay like this?” Miles referred mostly to Hobie’s guitar, grabbing ahold of it himself after hooking his legs around Hobie’s waist.

“S’alright, bruv.” He murmured as he tightened the strap and glanced back just in case. “Besides, you won’t catch me dead without my axe on me.” Finally, he lowered his arms, slipping them under Miles’ knees when he relaxed and pacing in a small circle. “Good?”

Miles chuckled and nodded. “I’m fine.”

“Alright, then, let’s see about that little tour, yeah?”

As he turned to walk toward the door, he suddenly pitched to one side; his knee bending dramatically as he took the step.

“Hobie!” Miles yelped and wrapped his arms around Hobie’s shoulders, surprised giggles catching his voice before he could stop them.

“Yeah, mate?” He pushed himself sharply to stand up straight, bouncing his passenger slightly before leaning the opposite way for another sideways step.

“What are you doing?!” Miles tried to ask, his voice jumping up when Hobie stumbled backwards as if he was falling.

He stopped instantly, probably just sticking his feet down, and glanced sideways to hear him better. “Hm? Nothin here. What do you think I’m doing?” Miles could hear the smirk on his face as Hobie casually shuffled back and forth, and he tried not to laugh again as he rolled his eyes.

“You’re not walking straight.” He said as shortly as possible, holding on a bit tighter as Hobie spun on one foot for a few seconds.

“Heh.” Hobie snickered, glancing down before moving backwards again. “Haven’t done anything straight in my life, brother.”

Miles laughed this time, giving Hobie a light smack on his shoulder. “That’s a terrible way to come out to someone.”

“Yeah? What would you know about it?”

Miles almost hesitated, but he leaned and whispered into Hobie’s ear.

“No shit?” He laughed lightly, spinning around again before continuing his backwards slide. “You are aces, my guy. One of a kind.”

Miles grinned softly, his gaze trailing down to the floor. “Wait, you can moonwalk?!”

“Oh, is it hard?” Hobie scoffed teasingly. “What do ya think, eh? We good to walkabout?”

“I am barely trusting you to walk right now.” Miles admitted, and Hobie proved his point by walking sideways again. “You’re being weird!” He laughed.

Hobie stopped abruptly, jostling his passenger. “Wanna be in on a little secret, mate?” He turned his head, not quite enough for Miles to see his face, though.

Miles couldn’t help being wary, and he shifted his legs to keep hold of Hobie’s waist. “If you have one to tell me.”

Hobie chuckled, shaking his head. “See, thing is: I cannot fucking stand backseat drivers.” He sighed, maintaining a tone as if he were serious. “So, if you want to start harpin’ on, I just might do something drastic.”

He didn’t give Miles a chance to ask questions, shifting his hands under both of his knees and hooking his fingers in as best he could. He smirked at the sudden cackles that shot past his ears, and Miles shoved at his shoulder and leaned back against Hobie’s guitar, barely getting any leeway from the guitar strap.

“Hobie!” He cried through his laughter. “Asshole, cut it out!” He tried to kick and flailed against his back.

“You gonna shut your South back there? Let me drive in peace?” Hobie gripped his knees tight when Miles tried to lift his legs out, pressing his thumbs against the sides of his kneecaps.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Miles squealed, gripping Hobie’s vest as he stopped.

“Good. Let’s roll.” Hobie lurched forward a bit suddenly, chuckling as Miles squeaked. “Want me to run? Make up lost time?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You wanna?”

“No.”

“I’m hearing yes.”

“Don’t you—” Miles yelped as he ran for maybe three steps.

Hobie laughed tauntingly, letting Miles give him light punches on his shoulders. “Alright, alright. For real.” The door opened automatically as they approached, and Hobie strode confidently into the hallway traffic.

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

“So, mate, what was all that rubbish about me being easy to carry, eh?” Hobie spoke after a minute of wandering. Only a few of the Peters that they passed by even noticed Miles attached to him, let alone commented. Miles mostly hid his face against the back of his neck, sneaking little waves at anyone who managed to notice him. “Like you aren’t acting a proper rucksack?”

“Can you maybe speak less British?” Miles asked playfully, stifling a squeak when Hobie tickled his legs again.

He snorted, moving a little faster and jostling Miles more aggressively as if he were a backpack. “Oh, you’re fuckin’ hilarious aren’t ya?”

Miles gripped onto Hobie’s vest again, trying to steady himself and muffling giggles against his shoulder. “Kidding! I was kidding; stop…” He whispered through snickers. Hobie flinched a little as Miles’ breath passed his neck, and he turned his head slightly when Miles went quiet.

“You try anything, and I’ll end you.” He said, unable to keep up a stern façade with his voice. He did sneak a warning little scratch under one of his knees again though, just in case. He snickered along with Miles’ giggles, hooking his arms around his legs to slip his hands into his pockets.

“Spider-Punk.” Both of them looked forward to find Miguel approaching, and Hobie kept walking as the man spoke. “Have you seen Morales?”

“Not lately.” Hobie said curtly, speeding up just a little bit.

Miguel sighed, his eyes on some projection from his watch. “Well, when you do see him, tell him I—” He had turned to call after him, heaving a sigh when he realized. “Really?”

“What?” Hobie turned to face him, walking backwards a few steps with Miles snickering nervously. “Ain’t seen him; what of it?” He struggled to keep the grin off his face, shrugging casually and turning back to continue.

“Miles!” Miguel called, already sounding irritated as he started to follow them.

“Hobie, run.” Miles whispered, his nervous giggles turning mischievous.

“Hm? What~? You wanna run now, mate?”

“C’mon, Hobie, please?” He glanced back to see Miguel glaring at them.

“I dunno; seems like he really wants to talk to you.” Hobie actually started to slow his pace.

“Hobie!”

Hobie’s Spider Sense had started tingling as soon as Miguel got all pissy, and the second he reached for Miles’ shoulder, Hobie broke into a sprint. Most of the other Spider People’s senses warned them in time, but he had no problem shouldering past whoever he had to. Miles laughed brightly, hooking his arms across Hobie’s neck and squeezing his legs tight around his waist.

“Hobart Brown!” Miguel shouted after them, and they heard footsteps gaining on them.

“Oh, shit.” Hobie laughed a bit himself. “You need to hold on, mate.” He shifted mid-step, springing up and throwing them both over the guardrail. He hooked one arm tight around Miles’ leg as they started to freefall, taking a necessary second to flip Miguel off with his free hand before firing his web-shooter at the underside of the catwalk they had just abandoned. He pulled them up to stick underneath it, and he quickly crawled to the nearest wall. He pulled them both back up the open tower with another shot of web, sticking himself as best he could into a corner between two of the crisscrossing walkways.

They hunkered down and caught their breath, watching Miguel from essentially three stories away. His gaze whipped back and forth over both sides of the catwalk, seemingly expecting them to just pop out from the middle, and Hobie’s hands might have clenched against the wall. Miles was clinging tightly onto his back, but he was shaking like a leaf and barely keeping it together.

“Stop laughing.” Hobie whispered through half-gritted teeth, lightly punching back at his passenger’s side. “Shut the fuck up, right now.” He had to sound demanding, because he was definitely going to start laughing if Miles didn’t stop.

“I’m sorry!” Miles whispered back, a snort slipping out of him.

Finally, Miguel heaved a tired sigh and kept walking, and Hobie visibly relaxed as he went into one of the enclosed corridors.

And finally, they laughed. They still tried to keep quiet about it, but the tension drained away as Hobie climbed over onto the nearest walkway.

“Oh my God, we’re in so much trouble…” Miles whined as laughter faded out of his voice.

“Heh, hell yeah.” Hobie chuckled. “Might want to ditch the watches before Blue gets on our ass. If it helps at all, I still haven’t seen ya.”

“Pfft. For some reason, I don’t think he’s going to buy tha—”

“What~? Miles, where are you~?” Hobie called to no one in particular, hardly even bothering to raise his voice.

“Wait, what?!” Miles giggled in disbelief. “What are you—?” He squeaked as Hobie turned suddenly.

“Ah, shit, I’ve lost track of him.” He twisted the other way, letting go of Miles’ legs without warning and resting his hands on his hips. “I’ll be damned; what do I tell the others?”

“Hobie?” Miles flinched as he almost slipped.

Hobie sighed a bit dramatically, shrugging. “Nothing for it but to tell them, I guess.”

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

Back in the cafeteria, both Peter and Pavitr had been absolutely battering Gwen with teasing little questions almost since Miles and Hobie had left.

“So, you were lying when you said Hobie’s never gone all tickle monster on you, huh?” Pavitr sang playfully, poking quickly up her side and giggling as she bat him away. “Ooh, I knew I should have told him you said that.”

“My threat still stands on what will happen if you do.” She said back, only to flinch nearly into his lap as Peter’s finger zipped up her spine.

“Pavi, you should know Spider-People start out as terrible liars.” He grinned, and Mayday made the sweetest noise as she pat Gwen’s arm.

Gwen whined as a faint blush crept across her cheeks, shaking her head and laughing softly with them.

“Oi! Fellas.” Hobie suddenly appeared, jogging up to the table and resting his hands on an empty chair. “Mayday. Ah, look, wildest thing: I might have lost our boy Miles.”

The trio, plus Mayday, kind of just…stared. Mayday laughed, and the others were struggling not to smile. Again.

“Oh, no, how could you?” Gwen, once again, made herself break the silence.

“I know; I know; kinda shite of me, but, see, I ran into Old Blue in the hall, and he asked about Miles. I turn ‘round and realize—” He turned, just to illustrate.

Miles reached out to them with one hand. “Help me…” He giggled, trying to whisper as he tightened his legs around Hobie’s waist.

“—realize I ain’t seen him since some minutes ago when we left here.” Hobie turned to face them again, except he spun around the long way before crossing his arms. “Started thinking about sending a search party. But he’s probably ‘right, y’know?”

“Oh, yeah, Miles is a big kid; he’ll be okay.” Peter nodded, reaching with his leg to nudge the chair Hobie had been leaning on. “You want to sit down, maybe?”

“Nah, pops, I’m good.” He shrugged, maintaining a completely straight face as he looked over at Pavitr struggling to contain himself.

“Okay, okay wait, so—” Pavitr called with a flail of his hands. “You haven’t seen him at all?”

“Not a peek.”

“Then what are you carrying?”

Hobie glanced over his shoulder as best he could. Miles poked his nose. He didn’t even smile. “’S my guitar, Pav, you know I always have it.”

Pavitr laughed in disbelief, looking over at Gwen. She just shrugged with a grin.

“Well, Hobie,” She decided to try. “Did you get some new, uh, accessories since we saw you last?”

“Don’t really see how that’s relevant, mate.” He rested his chin on one hand, a smile threatening his lips as Miles giggled into his shoulder.

“Is that a no?” She hopped out of her chair and approached them, and Hobie put his hands up innocently. “Then this is…” She reached out and poked Miles’ side, grinning as he pawed at her hand and tried to keep quiet. That only lasted the three seconds it took for her to decide to scribble all five fingers against his shirt.

“Gwen!” He laughed, one hand gripping tighter at Hobie’s vest as he reached to push her shoulder. “Hobie, come on!”

“Strangest thing, innit, but I do keep hearing his dumb little voice.” Hobie noted as he started to smirk. “Somewhere back here, like.” He reached back with one hand, his fingers scribbling under Miles’ chin and pulling out a barely stifled squeal. “I swear I’m going mental or someth—” His voice caught on a snort as Miles suddenly tickled along his exposed side, and he grabbed at the offending wrist with a sharp glare.

“Hobie, I think Miles might be attached to you.” Gwen declared, snickering into her hand. “Not positive though.”

“What, this?” He gestured purposefully with the arm he was holding, ignoring Miles’ halfhearted pulling and his little giggles. “Nah, nah, nah; this can’t be Miles, and I know it can’t be Miles because I specifically told Miles that I would end him if he tried some shit with me.”

“You told him that when you didn’t see him?” Gwen asked with a smirk, only to flinch when Hobie glared at her next.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Gwendy?” Hobie crowded close to her, shoving Miles’ hand into her face. “Tell you like I told him, though: you start something with me; I will end you.”

Hobie smirked as he stared her down. Miles poked her nose. She laughed.

“I can’t with you two!” She barely managed to say, and Hobie chuckled as he let go of Miles’ wrist and pulled her against his side.

“Aw, there she is.” He teased, sneaking squeezes on her side. “Love to see that smile, yeah?”

She gave him a playful push, sitting down in the chair Hobie had been standing over.

“Now, what was that you said about a little spider crawling on me?” He asked slowly, his smirk turning devious as his hands moved to squeeze and scribble at Miles’ sides as best he could.

Miles laughed brightly, pulling one of his own arms back to try and grab at Hobie’s wrists or cover his sides.

“Hobie, be nice.” Peter chuckled.

“Hm, wait, let me see—” Hobie’s hands hooked under his knees again, tickling along the backs of them and hoisting him back up when he started to slip.

Miles kicked his feet, his hands pressing on Hobie’s back as he leaned against the guitar strap. “Hobie, enough!” He giggled loudly, unable to squirm out of his hold.

Hobie’s hands went still, returning to nothing but holding him up. “Miles?! My guy, folks have been looking for you, y’know?” He teased, grinning when Miles groaned and leaned on his shoulder.

“Can I get down now?”

“I don’t know, mate, can you?” Hobie hooked another empty chair with his foot, dragging it closer to his side as he lifted his hands away.

“If you spin around again, I’m going to strangle you.” Miles landed one foot on the chair, sighing heavily as he finally sank down and flopped his head onto his arms.

“Damn, ya try to have a little fun around here.” Hobie pat Miles’ shoulders and ruffled his hair. “Right, then; rest up. Anyone else after a ride?”

“Oh, I will, definitely!” Pavitr jumped to his feet, eyes bright as anything. Gwen just chuckled and let her hand fall back to her lap.

Hobie snorted, nudging her with his elbow before cracking his knuckles. “Aw, don’t fret. I’ll tucker him out real quick for ya, Gwendy.”

#a panda writes a thing #tickling #atsv tickle #atsv tickling #hobie brown #miles morales #pavitr prabhakar #gwen stacy #peter b parker #miguel o'hara

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whimsical-roasting · 2 years ago

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“Coach Ted, how do you feel about group cohesion and dance breaks?”

thinking about random moments shared in the jamie tartt x psych major!reader fic i have in my head... just cute shit tbh

okay so the reader has been with the Richmond club for a solid few months, she’s a familiar face and friendly to the team but not super close with everybody, minus Colin and surprisingly,,, Jamie hehe

the team seems to be having a serious tie-streak going on, and they’re all kinda bummed by it

Ted’s obviously still Ted, unwavering winners mindset that basically means ‘do your best, give yourself a pat, shake it off, and repeat’ - with the addition of a smile ofc!

the reader has been doing readings for her org psych class and knows that raising group morale is necessary but also so so hard.

sometimes motivational speeches just don’t cut it yknow?? sometimes you gotta think outside of the box to fix the vibes and spread positivity

so there she is, standing in the coach’s office with a bluetooth speaker in her hand, nervously waiting for it to be her turn to speak

“Coach Ted,” she calls him in a manner that’s playful but still professional - he’s insisted on just Ted in the past and she’s complied but for serious conversations, she enjoys leading with a ‘subtle sense of professionalism’

“Coach Ted, how do you feel about group cohesion and dance breaks?” she asks, fiddling with the speaker in her hand

“Well darlin, I love a good flash mob. Gosh, those folks must keep in touch, right?” He directs his eyes to Beard, who peaks over his book and replies affirmingly, “a bond has been formed,” causing both you and Ted to smile

“Well, less flash mob but more like... a bi-weekly dance break?” she continues as Ted’s eyes land on her again. “I know the boys are bummed with the tie-streak and I was reading in my org psych textbook about the importance of autonomy in decorating our workspaces, and how group morale helps cohesion which’ll lead to better attitudes and hopefully better performance - not that our performance has been poor, it’s been great, I’m proud of the boys really! But, it sucks to see them bummed out...So maybe a twice-a-week-song-dance-break will lift spirits??”

she’s rambling. she’s nervous!! it’s a good idea tbh but still, sharing means being vulnerable and the potential of getting rejected

Ted politely waits for her to finish, nodding along and then grins, “sounds wonderful darlin! Hey, maybe you can get the boys to give some song suggestions to help with the whole autonomy thing you mentioned.”

she’s happy !! grinning as she steps out to the locker room, dragging out the whiteboard from the corner and scribbling in a lil corner of it

Jamie’s eyes follow her silently. truth be told, they followed her when she entered and disappeared into the coach’s office. but he smiles a lil seeing her grin at herself

when she’s done with the whiteboard, she calls for attention and lets the boys know to write down their suggestions, and she’ll choose two songs for the week randomly!! she emphasizes nervously that it should help according to her textbooks and Jamie is silently nodding, eyes drifting to her hands as she fiddles with the whiteboard marker

Dani is the first to speak, “pardon me, can it be Spanish songs too?” and she smiles really big, “anything you like!!”

Isaac adds, “yea bruv, I fuck wit Bad Bunny” and there’s a wave of approving noises from the rest

SO, the plan has been implemented, and it’s frickin working!!!

the boys always look forward to whose song is chosen - lots of rap, some taylor swift, Work Hard Play Hard makes them go nuts, some musical songs from Colin but it’s okay cause the lads are hyped over Hamilton

Ted gets into it!! dancing!! Dani and Jan Maas share an imaginary mic!! it’s great, but Jamie’s favourite part is seeing her join them in the locker rooms for every dance break grooving to the music

one day SHE chooses the song... “Keep Your Head Up” by Andy Grammer cause the team seemed extra tired and bummed

everyone’s like ??? who chose this?? she’s like ‘me. I did.’

she’s trying to break the tension, so she takes her imaginary mic and goes to Ted, then Colin, then Sam, and soon everyone’s into it - just happily singing and dancing

she somehow ends up next to Jamie, shoulders bumping. she’s swaying as she faces him, playfully mouthing the lyrics to him as he smiles with a slight blush (not that she notices cause she’s blushing too)

they’re both dancing close to each other, and she lightly pokes his chin when the song goes, “you gotta keep your head up”, reaching up to pull down his headband at, “and you can let your hair down,” grinning at him when he’s like ‘hey!! :o... >:)’

the song ends, and they’re still laughing at each other, holding hands...a bit longer than they should tbh hehehe. Jamie loves her energy and kindness, it matches his goofiness and makes him wanna be a better person

but anyways!!! they pull away, hoping no one notices.. some do but don’t say anything

#jamie tartt x psych major!reader #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 2 years ago

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Ooo imagine Tangerine and Lemon being on the Bullet Train job, and ending up protecting a young single mom with a baby (daughter) from the dangers going on, and also taking her out of her own struggling situation and bringing them home to live in their humongous house (honestly mansion). Tan and Lem taking care of the two and Tan falling for Y/n and basically becoming a Dad to her baby girl🥺

okay I love this!! thank you for requesting sweet, hope you like it💌 @kpopgirlbtssvt

new little family (tangerine x fem reader)

wc || 1.3k

warnings || don’t think are any

masterlist + rules

taglist

You could not wait to get off this god-forsaken train, you had just a few more stops until you could escape the havoc. You were exhausted from being on high alert the whole time; not only did you have yourself to look after, but you also had your two-year-old daughter to protect.

Anxiously sitting in the quiet car with your baby glued to your chest, cradling her head as you whispered lullabies into her tiny ears.

A couple of guys walk towards you and you instantly think the worst. Holding your hand out as a way to back them off. “No-please. I don’t want any trouble.” You mumble, gripping tighter on your daughter.

“No no, we don’t want to hurt you.” The larger guy said sweetly.

Opening your eyes, flickering your attention towards the two men. Turning your attention to the moustached man behind with an irritated expression. “It looks like he does.” You meekly say, nodding at him.

“Don’t worry about him, he always looks like that. We want to help you, it’s not safe on here, especially for your daughter.” The guy said with a sincere smile.

“Why would you want to help me?” You questioned.

“Wasn’t my idea.” He grins, knocking his friend in the side.

“Shut up, you twat.” The moustached man grits.

“But seriously, we need to get you off by the next stop, everything is about to go tits up.” Extending a hand to escort you off.

“What’s your names, first?” You ask.

“I’m Tangerine, he’s Lemon.”

“Like the fruits?” You question, holding back a smile.

“Oh bloody hell it’s not important-“

“Shut up, bruv.” Lemon interrupts, punching his friend in the shoulder. “Miss, we just want to make sure you’re safe.”

For some bizarre reason, you felt as though you could trust them because your instincts were never wrong. Reaching between your feet to pick up your bag and slinging it onto your forearm, shimmying your daughter to sit on your hip.

“My brother will take that.” Lemon says, nodding to your bag.

“No, it’s okay.” You brush them off while you struggled to balance the weight.

Instead Tangerine snatches it, gripping it in his hands as he leads the four of you.

“Don’t mind him.” Lemon whispers as he gestures for you to walk first.

Following behind the broody guy, he escorts you off the train as you brushed a comforting hand down your daughter's back. Making your way to the platform, you look between confused. What now?

“One sec.” Lemon says, holding his index finger up. “Come on.” Dragging his brother to the side.

You felt so awkward standing there, overhearing their discussion about what to do with you. You were tempted to turn around and walk, but you really didn’t have anywhere to go.

The brothers part from their conversation and stare at you, each of their faces displaying a different emotion.

“Do you have anywhere to go, love?” Tangerine asked, looking between you and your daughter who was sleeping soundly against your chest.

Shaking your head no, a pained smile across your lips.

Lemon loudly whispers into his brother's ear “I really think we should offer.”

Tangerine looks away and sighs, putting his hands in his trouser pockets. “Fine.”

“We have a couple of spare rooms back at our estate… we’d be happy to have you.” Lemon says with a smile.

“I- uh- I don’t know… I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You won’t.”

Everything seemed to be going well so far, you were sitting in their private jet on your way to their home in the countryside. You had managed to get some information out of Lemon. You felt as though you could finally relax.

“What’s her name?” Lemon asks from the seats next to you.

“It’s Mandy.” You say in a baby voice, blowing raspberries on her cheek. “Mandarin for long, because they’re lucky to me.” Smiling sweetly at your baby.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Tangerine warmly staring at you, but when you meet his gaze his eyes snap away to look at an upside-down fashion magazine.

“That’s real cute.” Lemon makes a playful face at Mandy. “Does she like tv? Because we can put some on?”

“She actually loves Thomas the tank engine, I don’t suppose you have that?”

“Oh bloody hell.” Tangerine snickers to himself from the other end of the plane. “He loves Thomas.” Walking over and taking a seat to join the three of you.

“You do?”

“Mhmm.” Lemon excitedly hummed, eyes lit up huge. “I’ll put it on now.”

Once again, you catch Tangerine gazing at you, but you pay him no mind. Bouncing Mandy over your knee as she giggled at the trains on the little screen.

You have been at their house for a few days now and you started to feel settled, you didn’t want to overstay your welcome but it just felt so nice to feel cared for. They welcomed you as one of their own and gave you everything you could ever need.

You and Lemon were starting to build somewhat of a friendship, while Tangerine was a tough nut to crack, more often than not he’d be standoffish. You would notice the way he’d try to make Mandy laugh or the occasional glances at you, but other than that he tried to keep his distance.

Over the last few weeks, you could feel him warming up to you more and more. It felt as if he was glad you both were there.

Earlier on today he took you and Mandy to a baby store and told you to get as much as you could. He held Mandy as you stocked your trolley. At first, you felt awful for spending his money, but he constantly reassured you that it was no problem.

So now back at their house, you were sorting your room while one of the brothers babysat Mandy. You were assembling a new cot when you noticed how eerily quiet the house was.

You make your way into the living room, stopping in the doorway as you look around the room. Mandy was curled up asleep on Tan’s chest, cuddling into him as his hands brushed over her hair to soothe her. You felt like melting. It was such a sweet sight.

You wanted to join them but you didn’t want to interrupt. He noticed you lurking in the hallway and patted the spare seat next to him, urging you to sit with them. So you do. Settling yourself on the sofa to enjoy the peaceful silence in the room. He reaches an arm around you, pulling you into him. At first, you hesitated, but within moments you fell into his embrace, snuggling into him while the fireplace crackled.

A couple of months had passed since you joined the twins, you were only meant to stay for a few weeks- only until you got back on your feet, but they practically begged you to stay and you couldn’t quite pass on the opportunity. In return you did as much as you could to help around the house, feeling like you owed them.

You and Tangerine have got really close recently like he dropped all of his barriers to be around you. You didn’t realise just how sweet and considerate he was until you saw him with Mandy. He’d play with her and spoil her constantly, and you could see how happy he makes her- it almost made you a little jealous. The way she’d giggle and squeal around him made you swoon and fall for him impossibly harder.

Neither of you knew, but you were madly in love with one another. It was one of those beautiful classic ‘saving each other’ stories; he saved you by giving you a place to live, and you saved him by entering his life. He had become the man you always wanted and the kind of father you wanted for your daughter. Not only did you gain a place to stay, but you also attained your own little perfect family.

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine and lemon #tangerine fanfiction #bullet train #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #bullet train 2022 #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x fem!reader

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awingedinsect · 9 months ago

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-Flood me like Atlantic-

Chapter 9

Word count: 2k

Warnings: slight past trauma, cursing, the briefest of allusions to SH again, III is mean but he’s getting softer. I swear.

“Are you really okay?”

His eyes peeled off the keyboard, growing instantly unfocused as she opened the door and stared at him. He sat crossed-legged on the bed, the slats of the window shades casting him in stripes.

“What?” His fingers fidgeted with the loops of a big, prominent white bow stuck on the corner of the instrument. His sleeves fell to his wrists. “Of course I am.”

She stood silently for too long, brows knit. His heart struck up a quicker beat.

“You know, you don’t have to lie to me.” She said. “I want you to talk to me. I’m your mom, for god's sake.”

“I’m fine, I swear.” He said, trying to look assuring. “Just tuning this thing, right now.”

His eyes met the carpet at her feet. She was thinking about it too, he knows. He’d memorized the crimson trail on it, now faded a dark meaningless brown that even his sisters eyes follow sometimes.

Even his sisters.

He swallowed, lashes fluttering. “…I’m gonna take her to the beach.”

“Sure you don’t wanna come?” II’s eyes wander back to him one last time as he stands in the doorway, IV holding it open with a set of keys in his hand. He waits patiently as Vessel shoves his hands in the front of his hoodie, swaying casually on his bare feet. “It’s gonna be a good time, and I know Matt would love to meet ya!” He grins, a laugh in his eyes. “Pretty sure he thinks we’re making you up.”

II has brought his friend Matthew up a couple times now. An old friend from school, now playing drums in his own garage band. The three of them were gonna go bowling today, and of course both II and IV had asked him to come along. But he politely refused. Today is the day he’s gonna take the bandage off of his forehead, and maybe talk to III about the upcoming gig, since he’s still not positive he’s even involved. Though by the end of the conversation he might need a couple new bandaids.

“I guess he’ll have to keep wondering.” Vessel says, a soft smile on his lips. He truly does love the drummer, and he hopes he’s not too disappointed. “I’m not really feeling it today, man. But next time for sure.”

“Well, try and have a nice day around here.” II says, taking a step further out the door and nodding over Vessels shoulder into the house. “You got mister grumpy pants all to yourself, bruv.”

Vessels not sure whether the look II and IV share is sympathetic, amused, or just generally deeper than he understands. But they both have stupid smiles that make him wish he was in the know.

But instead of questions they finally step outside, crunching down the gravel path as he waves them off.

He locks the door behind them.

It’s not what he was expecting.

He holds his bangs up off of his forehead, dropping the cloth into the sink and turning his face slowly in the overhead light.

To be fair, this isn’t the first time he’s taken it off. He’s been showering and waking up to it on the floor beside the sofa, making him wonder just how much he tosses and turns these days. But he always puts it back on before the mirror can beckon him.

There’s something that terrifies him about the whole thing. About the gap in his memories of that night, in which the damn thing must have been carved into him in the first place. The voice in his head feels like it hums from behind the simple scrap of cloth. And the idea of his reflection also being part of the same nightmare in his head would truly prove that, whatever this is, it’s something that won’t leave him.

His shaking fingers graze the raised flesh, following a perfect line that crosses and knits with a few others. He’d say it was a burn, if he didn’t so clearly remember the blood dripping into his eyes. He doesn’t know what it means or what it says, but the meaning is clear;

Mine.

It means that he is owned.

Swiping the hair back into his face, he gives himself a final inspection. You can barely tell it’s there now, and there’s a definite relief at the sight of an otherwise regular bloke in the mirror. With the last few weeks, the dodging his reflection and the ever growing estrangement from his own body, he’d almost forgotten he’s not a monster.

He looks nice.

He almost looks good.

“Alright then,” he says, brushing some lint of his hoodie and picking a dead flake off his lips. “Alright then.”

He treads quietly toward the door at the end of the hallway. There’s not a sound in the house, apart from the faint shuffle of his jeans and a distant flicker that he can’t place. He’s almost scared to breathe wrong, so he really doesn’t at all.

His knuckles rap three quick taps on the door.

His tongue presses the roof of his mouth, mindlessly preparing a “thhh” after he’s met with nothing but silence for a few seconds. But when his weight shifts on the floorboards in what must be the most obnoxious noises known to bassist he hears a quiet “bloody hell” on the other side, followed by a “come in.”

He turns the knob, almost embarrassed by his timidity. Why the fuck is he so nervous? He’s been carried completely naked and unconscious by this guy, he’s been poked and prodded and felt his hot breath on his tear-stained cheeks. he’s been punched in the eye hard enough to floor him and he’s made stupid fucking sounds while quite literally being bathed. So why in god’s name is standing like an 6’4” shadow in the same man’s doorway about the most awkward thing he’s ever been through?

“Um… hello.”

III’s bedroom is about exactly what he expected. On the smaller side, eclectic piles of knickknacks, clothes and colorful decorations all around, not to mention enough incense to knock a person out. There’s a record player spinning lazily by the window, the needle scratching the middle of the vinyl like it’s been forgotten for hours. And on the floor- crossed-legged with his back to the door -is III, hair sprawled all over his head like it hasn’t seen a brush in days.

“What are you doing?” Vessel asks, shoulders getting less tense as he stands curiosity drinking up the sight. He stares at III’s closed eyes in the floor-length mirror.

“Shhh.”

“Meditating?”

“Shhhh.”

“Why would you tell me to come in if it’s a bad time?”

A distressed groan comes out of III and he turns his head, spindly body twisting around to lock him in a glare. “You need something, blud?”

Vessel looks at his feet for a minute, gathering his thoughts. III’s face is bathed in the colors of the several stained glass ornaments in the window, sifting through his long lashes and glowing in his stern eyes. There’s a few candles flickering around the room.

Instead of answering, Vessel decides to just walk in and sit down on the bed. Not something III was expecting, proven as he twists around and straightens fully to eye him. Vessel pulls his feet up onto the bedspread, sitting like an obnoxious cat while still retaining a bit of uncertainty. And it gets just the right reaction out of III.

“I wanted to ask about the gig. II told me one’s coming up and I… was curious about my role.”

III’s eyes are boring into him relentlessly. But again, it feels like a challenge over anything else. Vessel stays put, meeting the stare. A hard swallow tugs on his throat.

“You hoping we’ll let ya sing?”

Vessel’s face flushes, and he can’t help but break the eye contact for a second. He dismisses it by picking at a loose thread in his jeans. “Well I’ve got an extremely flexible schedule. And I’ve been singing with you all, now, for a bit.” He says, offering an awkward sort of smile. “I thought maybe… I was official.”

“Official.” III rolls the word around his mouth, tasting it for a second out of courtesy. But it’s obviously a bit sour. “You think you’re number one all the sudden, blud?”

That’s definitely not what he said. That’s definitely not what he insinuated. God, having a conversation with this man is insufferable. And here he was trying to be polite.

“Well I have been pouring my heart and ass into performing for you guys these last few weeks, crazy to think it wasn’t just for shits and gigs, right?”

III stands up to his full height at that, casting a long shadow down the bed that makes Vessel question his choice of words. “You’ve been fuckin crashing here, you twat.” He bites. “Hiding from the cops on my fuckin sofa and havin fun with a borrowed mic in the meanwhile. You’re welcome, by the fuckin way.” He rests his fist on a sharp hip, throwing a gesture of Vessel’s head. “Looks like you're good as new, now. Ready to go home.”

Oh, hell no. None of that. Vessel’s mouth twists in a scowl, since he’s not sure how else to react to that slew of shit. His throat tightens.

Home.

“First of all, the fun I’ve been having with you guys could of got me enough money by now to call that goddam motel home for another fucking month, if I wasn’t up here singing for the damn squirrels. Second I didn’t ask for any of this shit, I didn’t ask for the fire or these new scars, or any of the things you’ve blamed me for. I’m just fucking tired, man.” The knot in his throat is no idle threat anymore, and he goes quiet, staring up at those deep, frozen eyes. “…Why do you hate me?”

III is silent for a long moment. His lips form a thin line, hair shadowing his features as he bows his head and contemplates something. Most likely, just how he’ll murder him.

He steps closer. And then he fucking shoves him in the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. He thuds back on the springy mattress, arms falling at his sides and gripping the quilt awkwardly as III towers over him like a goddam predator.

“You’re a bloody good singer.” He says, watching Vessel’s mouth fall open with some short breathes. “The boys like you.”

Each word seems carefully chosen; a gift he only has half a mind to give. The bassist sighs long and hard out his nose.

“You can get up there with us on one fucking condition.” He says. “Cover your fucking face. You might say your innocent, but until I get a whole story and some proof out of your ass, none of us fucking know you. Understand?”

Vessel nods against the bed, something serious in his face now. He doesn’t want to be seen.

“I need a keyboard.” He says, moving on impressively fast from the demand. There’s simply something atrociously fitting about the idea of a mask.

“And there’ll probably be one, too.” III says. “Just make a half decent sound either way.” He moves towards the door now, lifting a weight off of Vessel, who props up on his elbows and watches as he leaves.

“Don’t fuck up.” III says, locking him in one last stare. “Anything.”

He doesn’t have to mention II or IV to make his point. It’s clear as day, and so is Vessel’s resolve to prove that yes, he can be trusted. He can be liked. It doesn’t matter if he’s wearing a mask or not; he wants to be authentic and knowable. Something he’s not sure he’s ever been before.

Besides, the mask will cover up the scar.

It’ll keep the voice inside.

He’s suddenly left alone in the bedroom, unsure of what to do. The record player keeps scratching and the candles keep flickering, and slowly he gets up, wandering to the window. He picks the needle up gingerly, setting it on the rim of the vinyl.

The static is such a familiar sound.

“Clock strikes, upon the hour, and the sun begins to fade…”

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