#it was. fresh. nothing should've been going off

[david-watts]

the worst thing about it is she doesn’t believe anything that comes out of our mouths

[miniimight]

I need more dad Sukuna and mom reader fics / headcsnons, I love the way you wrote for them!!

hey anon thank you! i'm thinking about making this a series, if you guys have any ideas/requests/prompts lmk <3

PICKING UP BABY FROM SCHOOL oops, toddlers can't ride motorcyles! (dad!sukuna x mom!reader)

sukuna rolled up about twenty minutes before his daughter's school got out, deploying the kickstand of his pitch black motorcycle against the rainbow colored fencing. he pulled off his helmet, sighing deeply when he met fresh air again.

his phone buzzed against his thigh. he pulled it out of his tight cargo pocket, answering immediately when he saw your caller ID. "hey, doll."

"you got there okay?" you asked.

"mhm."

"and you're on the right side of the building? that's where her class comes out."

"mhm."

"great." you exhaled. "m'sorry i couldn't make it this time—"

"stop." he says gruffly, his phone between his shoulder and ear as he pulls off his gloves. "what are you sorry for, silly girl? you're sick and should rest."

he doesn't mind anything when it comes to his two girls, not the fifteen minute commute to her school or the half hour of waiting just to get a parking spot nice and close to the doors.

your laugh was warbled over the phone. "at least the car is air conditioned. it's been getting warmer lately."

"..." he looked down at his bike.

"ryo, baby?" you hummed.

"hm?"

"you did take the car, right?"

"..."

his silence was all you needed to hear. he tuned out your worried rambling about how the hell is your daughter going to get home on that thing in order to process. toddlers don't usually use motorcycles as a mode of transportation... and he should've thought of this before!

"it'd be fine if i had an extra seat." he mused, debating on how he could manage this situation without having to call you to get them.

"an extra seat?! not even an extra helmet?" you shrieked. "baby, i swear, if you're actually thinking about driving with my baby girl on that thing—"

"relax, doll," he grumbled, pushing down the traces of embarrassment burning at his ears. "the brat will be fine, s'just a couple blocks away. she can handle the wind."

"..."

the bell rang and the doors swung open, children pouring out of the hallway and buzzing around in search of their parents.

"she's out, we'll see you soon." he was about to hang up when he heard,

"i'm literally about to come get you, do NOT go anywhere."

he frowns, his eyes scouring the crowd of midgets for his kid. he didn't mean to make you so upset and worried. he just... overlooked important details sometimes. not his fault, he's trying his best :(

"y/n, you will sit your ass down in bed. when i come home, you better be laying down exactly how i left you." he warned. he heard your breath hitch. "you trust me, don't you, baby?"

"yes... unfortunately."

he nodded. "we'll be home soon."

"in one piece?"

he rolled his eyes, grumbling. "yes, woman."

"hm." you huffed and hung up.

he strolled into the compound. as soon as he saw those pretty eyes that creased happily when they landed on him, he smiled and crouched down.

she ran over to him, her backpack jostling behind her. she held up a painting she made. "daddy, look!"

"i see." he pulled her closer, holding the backpack off her back and letting her walk off it. he slung the bedazzled bratz backpack over his shoulder, lifting her up in his arms. "what is it?"

"for mama."

"oh. all your crafts seem to be for mama. still nothing for me." he complained with a drawn out sigh.

she rolled her eyes, and he swore he was looking at you for a second.

"don't roll your eyes at me, brat." he scoffed. "who the hell even taught you that?" he muttered under his breath.

sukuna finally stopped in front of his bike. her eyes lit up as her legs started to kick in excitement. she's only ever seen daddy ride off on this thing, now she gets to ride with him?

he swung his leg over the bike, ignoring the mix of distasteful and flirtatious looks thrown at him. "okay, kid." he exhaled, shrugging off his jacket and holding it up to her. "gotta put this on."

she turned up her nose. "stinky."

his jaw dropped open. "i showered before i came to wait half an hour for you, chubby brat. the hell do you think you're talking to?"

she looked at him as if it were obvious.

"you'll put this on now. give me mama's painting, i'll put it in your bag." he said gruffly yet gently slid the painting into her backpack with the utmost care.

the jacket drowned her, the sleeves near triple the length of her arms. sukuna zipped her up and put the helmet on her head.

she started to whine. "stinky." she wailed.

"hush." he hissed, slapping some shades on and holding her towards her chest firmly. with her protected as best as he could with what he had, and with the jeweled backpack strapped to his back, he began to roll out into the road.

that drive home was the longest thirty minutes of his life. he had never drove so slow before.

you were waiting by the front door, running down to meet them as your husband pulled into the driveway.

"oh my god oh my god," you ripped your baby from his arms, tossing the helmet off her head. "are you okay, baby?" you smoothed away the sweaty hair from her face, your lips pursing when you hear her sniffles.

"my poor baby. daddy's never gonna pick you up again, don't you worry." you peppered her face with kisses.

sukuna caught the helmet before it crashed to the ground, walking behind you with his hands in his pockets. he kissed your temple as he leaned over your shoulder to peer down at his daughter. "daddy didn't do so bad."

you glare at him, cradling your daughter's head against your chest. you whirl away and storm into the house.

he sighed.

after many apologetic kisses and a good amount of groveling, you let him do pick-ups and drop-offs again. though you made sure to watch him get into the car before he drove off.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[lustfulslxt]

It’s You - Matt Sturniolo

summary : matt’s secretly in love w y/n, she bails on him and later realizes it was a terrible decision because it's him

warnings : very slight angst, fluff, smut

a/n : based on these texts (1, 2)

-

It didn’t take long for you to get ready and head over to Matt’s. If you were being honest, your nerves were wrecked. You felt so guilty for ditching him over a boy. Matt didn’t deserve that. He’s only ever been the best to you, and you were nothing less than selfish.

Sitting in your car outside of his house, you take a deep breath. He’s your best friend, you guys will figure it out. You shut the car off and make your way to his front door, deciding to knock rather than walk in as per usual. You’re not waiting very long when the door is unlocked and opened.

Seeing Matt feels like a breath of fresh air. However, at the same time, your guilt increases.

“Matt, I’m so sorry. I swear I wish I could take it back.” You immediately rush out your words.

“Why’d you knock?” He questions with a quizzical expression.

You falter a bit, “I-uh, I didn’t want to overstep in case you’re mad at me.”

"Come on." He says, nodding his head back for you to come inside.

He steps aside, holding the door open for you. You quickly walk inside, your hand finding his almost instantly. You can't help it, the fear of losing him urging you to bring him in closer. He looks down at your connected hands, his heart racing at the simple touch. He squeezes your hand tighter, pulling you up the stairs with him.

Your stomach flutters at the gesture, your mind racing with so many thoughts, yet nothing at the same time. You follow him back into his room, shutting the door behind you. He kicks his shoes off and lies back on his bed, beckoning you over. You copy his action before sitting beside him.

"So." Matt mutters, shooting a quick glance at you.

"About before." You start, a frown immediately pulling to your lips at the thought. "I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I was just so caught up in the fact that he was into me, I tried to do whatever he wanted to make it work. So, when he wanted to get together that weekend, I did. I never should've cancelled on you; I regret it so much. I'm really sorry, Matt."

He looks down at the floor, biting his inner cheek. "You really upset me."

Your frown deepens from his words, "I know, and you have every right to feel that way. I wish I could go back and undo it. You didn't deserve that. There's not much I can say, because I don't want to just give you excuses. It was wrong of me. I know you worked hard to get those tickets, and I truly am sorry."

"So, you're not seeing him anymore?"

You shake your head with wide eyes, "No, definitely not."

He gives you a small smile, "Good."

You squint your eyes at his response, before he's spreading his arms for you. You grin, crawling over and lying in his arms, squeezing for dear life.

"Any tighter and I'll explode." He chuckles in a low whisper.

You softly loosen your grip with a sheepish smile, "Sorry, I just don't want to lose you."

He sighs, "You're not gonna lose me, kid. Not now, not ever."

“I’m sorry, Matt.” You whisper, glancing up at him. “Honest.”

He brushes the hair from your face, staring down at you with a gentle look on his face. “I know.”

The two of you are met with a silence, but a comfortable one. Being with Matt always washes your worries away. He makes everything better without even having to put much effort, yet he always does. He gives you his all every single second of every day. You don’t know what you’d do without him.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened with your date?” He questions, running a hand through your hair as your head lies on his chest.

“I guess I just realized he’s not the man I want.” You admit after a moment of pondering.

“What does that mean?”

You turn your head, meeting his gaze. He has a curious expression and you can’t help but stare, lovingly. You’ve always found him so beautiful.

“I don’t know.” You lie, laying your head back down.

His hand moves around your face, grasping your chin to turn you back towards him. “Tell me.”

You’re so close that you can feel his breath fan against your face as he speaks. His bright blue eyes bore into yours with such intensity you find it hard to catch your breath. It’s like he’s put a spell on you. You’re suddenly in this trance and you feel the need to spill everything.

Your hand meets his cheek, softly caressing it as you contemplate admitting your truths. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for possible rejection. “It’s you.”

His heart starts beating faster from those two little words, but he needs confirmation. “Me?”

“You, Matt. You’re the man I want.” You finally say out loud, almost feeling a literal weight taken off of your shoulders for finally letting it out.

Matt feels like he's dreaming. He never would've guessed you'd ever say that, but he can't help the cheesy smile that plasters itself on his face. Your worried eyes glimmer at his reaction, hoping it's something good.

"Why do you think I tried so hard to get you those tickets?" He whispers, his lips almost grazing yours with every word.

"Say it." You whisper back.

"You know, Y/N." He breathes.

"I need you to say it."

"It's you." He repeats your previous words, making your stomach flutter with butterflies. "It's always been you."

Your lips turn upwards, flashing your pearly whites as you smile at him. Without another thought, Matt's hand tightens around your jaw, pulling you into him. His lips meet yours in a hard kiss, like any second you'll disappear. Your lips tingle from the feeling of his on yours, metaphorical sparks flying.

Your hand meets the side of his face, your fingertips brushing through his hair as your palm caresses his cheek. The kiss deepens as he slips his tongue into your mouth, exploring it like it's all he's ever known.

His hands trail down your body, squeezing every curve, making you softly moan into the kiss. He breaks away, his eyes wide and suddenly a lot darker than before. He swiftly flips the two of you over, hovering over you with one leg in between yours and holding himself up on his hands. He drops to one of his elbows, using the opposite hand to trace your bottom lip. His hand travels lower, closing around your neck in a soft grip as his lips meet yours again.

His tongue glides over yours so deliciously, humming into your mouth at the taste of you. You can feel his erection growing against your thigh, igniting a fire in your stomach. The desire that was put off for so long burns brighter, heat forming between your legs.

His lips part from yours, instantly trailing down your jaw and to your neck. He licks and sucks, nibbling the sensitive skin, eliciting soft whines from you that go straight to his dick. His hands slide under your shirt, gripping your warm skin, slowly moving upwards towards your breasts.

He pulls away with red, swollen lips, "Do you want this?"

"So bad." You beg, frantically nodding your head.

A smirk pulls to his lips as he continues working on your neck, letting his hands roam your body. They slide over your plush skin, gripping your boobs through your bra. You arch your back into his touch, heavy pants falling from your mouth. He pulls away and tugs at your shirt. You slightly lift yourself, allowing him to remove it, before he's pushing you back into the bed.

His bruised lips meet your skin in open mouthed kisses, leaving specks of saliva in his wake. Your skin burns beneath his touch, and you can't help but whine at the sensation, desperate for more. His teeth bite down on the skin of your collarbones, leaving marks behind. He continues doing this all over your torso, licking over said marks.

"Matt, please." You whine, bucking your hips up into his.

"Shh, I got you, baby." He hums into your skin as he pulls your bra straps down.

He nips at your shoulders, littering your skin with little bites and kisses. It's safe to say, you're drenched from his touch alone. You feel hot and bothered, needy for more stimulation at your core. His fingers grasp the little clip at the front of your bra, sliding it apart, freeing your breasts.

"Mmm." He groans, engulfing the soft mounds in his hands. "Always knew you had perfect tits."

His lips wrap around one nipple, tweaking the other with his finger. His tongue swirls over the sensitive bud, letting his teeth graze it, sensually. Your mind is hazy, and you're stuck in a daze as he repeats that action on your opposite nipple.

He grabs your waist, guiding you up to fully remove your bra, discarding it with your shirt. Before you lay back down, your hands are pulling at his shirt. He quickly lifts it over his head, tossing it aside, bringing you back into him, eager to feel your bare skin on his.

You bring his mouth to yours, feverishly kissing him as his hands continue feeling out your body. They travel lower and lower, grazing over the waistband of your pants. He glides over the fabric, moving to your thighs, squeezing the plush skin. You clench around nothing, craving to be filled.

He pulls away, eyes boring into your face as he gauges your reaction. His hand slowly trails up your leg, pressing into your covered heat. You close your eyes, taking your bottom lip in your teeth, holding back the sound that threatened to slip. A cocky smirk plasters on his lips as he works your bottoms down, leaving you bare as he pulls them off your feet.

He spreads your legs, admiring your glistening pussy on display just for him. The thought of you being just for him makes his cock throb with need. His fingers prod at your folds, your juices instantly drenching him with how aroused you are. Soft moans emit from your mouth as he slides his hand up and down your center.

"Need you inside me, please." You breathe, your hand latching onto his wrist.

"Are you sure?" He asks, eyeing you up and down.

"Please." You beg once more.

He nods, his hands immediately working his belt off. He unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down, along with his boxers. His hard cock bounces back up, throbbing for attention. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, your pussy clenching once again.

Matt scoots forward just a bit, getting between your legs with ease. He places his hand by your head as he hovers over you, holding his member in his opposite hand. He drags it through your folds, coating it in your arousal. He aligns himself with your sopping entrance, easily slipping in due to how wet you are.

"Oh fuck." You whine from the sensation, your eyes squeezing shut.

His breathing gets heavier as he slowly sinks deeper into you, filling you up so perfectly. Your hands grip his biceps as he bottoms out, feeling as if he sucked the air out of your lungs. Your pussy hugs around him so tightly, he's struggling to keep it together.

As soon as you adjust, he's slowly pumping in and out of you, pulling numerous moans from your lips. His strokes are deep and hard, yet slow and sensual.

"Been wanting to make this pussy mine for so long, fuck." He moans in a raspy voice as he continues thrusting into you.

He turns his head, kissing your wrist as your nails dig into his shoulder. He takes your opposite hand and intertwines it with his, squeezing hard. Euphoria overtakes your body with every thrust, eyes rolling into the back of your head from the feeling.

Your mouth falls open, lewd moans slipping from it as the pleasure builds. The knot in your stomach forms quickly with the way he's fucking into you so deliciously, leaving you clenching around him.

"Feels s-so good." You cry out, your face scrunching up in pleasure.

Your skin feels hot beneath his, it's almost hard to catch your breath. You feel a way you've never felt before.

"Tell me I make you feel better than anyone else, baby." He groans, snapping his hips into yours. "Say it."

You whine out from his words and his hard strokes, unable to form coherent sentences. "Feel better, oh my god. You, it's you. Fuck, I'm so close."

He moans at your words and continuous clenching around his cock, his hips sputtering from the feeling. He's been yearning for this exact moment for as long as he can remember, and it's better than he could've ever imagined.

"You're mine. All mine." He grunts with every thrust, driving you over the edge.

"Yes, yes, yes." You cry, as you come undone. "All yours, baby."

His mouth falls slack as he feels your juices pour out of you, producing a squelching sound with every pump. Your grip on his hand tightens as he continues fucking into you. He stares at your face, the way you furrow your eyebrows and bite your lip in overwhelming pleasure bringing him to the edge.

He lets out a guttural moan, shuddering as he empties his load into you, filling you up with his seed. He continues pumping, pulling out when it becomes too much for you both.

His hair slicks to his forehead as he leans back on his knees, watching his cum ooze out of you. The sight alone makes his dick twitch. Both of you are panting heavily, trying to compose yourselves from the exertion. You both lock eyes with goofy grins, instantly giggling with one another as if he wasn't just buried inside of you.

"I'm yours, huh?" You mumble with a dopey smile.

"And don't you fucking forget it."

—

a/n : shucksss, lazy ending i'm tired. not proofread, what's new? sorry for the wait, i lack motivation sooo much. anyways, hope it didn't disappoint. if it did, ig go cry ab it idk. smut one the poll bc we're all sluts, so that's what you got!

taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @mattsfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @knowingnothingnoel @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @strnlsblog @ilovethesturniolotriplets @sturnolio-luvs @chrissgirlsstuff

[simplyholl]

Buckle Up

Summary: You and Loki argue about your feelings for eachother outside a club.

Pairing: Avenger Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ Only. Friends with benefits cuz that's all I know how to write apparently. Jealousy. Angst. Car sex.

See My Masterlist Here

Loki shut the car door quickly behind you, pressing the lock on the luxury car. You had been sneaking around with him for two weeks. It was fun hiding from the rest of the team. You didn't want them to catch you leaving his room in the middle of the night.

All this sneaking around made it so much hotter. You couldn't keep your hands off each other. The risk of getting caught fueled the fire that burned between you. So you found yourselves having sex in the kitchen before the others woke up, in the gym, and in the hallway.

The whole team went out for Sam's birthday. You and Loki were headed toward the bathroom together, no longer able to resist the sexy texts he was sending, and the looks he would give you when another woman flirted with him. He would talk her up, even dance with her. Then, he would go back to sitting at the VIP table Tony reserved for the night. He would text you, reassuring you that you were the only one going home with him tonight.

You walked in front of him, keeping a little distance between you so no one would be suspicious. "Hey Mischief, get your ass over here! Heather wants to meet you." Sam shouted over the music, nodding his head toward the woman behind him. Heather was wearing a tight, green, leather dress. She had a crown on her head fashioned to look like Loki's horns and a sash that read "Birthday Girl".

You turn back to Loki, he gives you an apologetic look before going over to Sam and Heather. You couldn't help feeling a little jealous. Heather is beautiful and this is the kind of attention Loki lived for. You went back to the table to sit with Steve who was busy making sure Scott drank enough water. He had already been sick once tonight.

Your phone buzzes with a message from Loki. Meet me outside in five minutes. Loud off-key singing draws your attention to where most of the club is singing "Happy Birthday" to Sam and Heather. She has her arms wrapped around Loki's neck. Your hands ball into fists by your side, nails digging into your palm.

Chill out, he wants to meet with you, not her. it's only been two weeks; you can't be this down bad and dickmatized. You sit outside the club waiting for him, the night air turning cool. You shiver, wishing the dress you wore specifically to impress Loki wasn't so skimpy. You check your phone hoping for another text, but there wasn't one. Ten minutes had went by, you decide to wait a little longer.

He probably didn't want to disappoint the birthday girl. You understood, but he could have texted to let you know he would be late. Your phone vibrated, smiling you checked it. Here you were getting upset over nothing. But the text was from Steve checking on you because he didn't see you in the club. You text back telling him you stepped out for fresh air.

Loki was now twenty minutes late. You huffed, walking back in. You spot him, hands all over Heather as she grinded against him. He looks over, probably sensing your furious gaze on him. His hands fall immediately. He says something to her as he excuses himself. "Darling, I'm so sorry. I lost track of time." You roll your eyes, walking toward the doors. "Not here.' You tell him, not wanting to argue in front of the whole club.

He follows you outside. "Loki, you were twenty minutes late. I waited out here for you the whole time. You should've sent me a text to let me know it was going to be longer. But I guess you were too busy rubbing your dick all over her back." Loki shakes his head, a smirk appearing on his lips. "You're jealous? Honestly, you assured me you could do this without feelings getting involved. It was nothing. Heather was a fan; I didn't want to disappoint her on her birthday."

"Oh no, you wouldn't want to disappoint someone you just met!" You yell, skipping over the fact that he just called you out over your feelings. "You're being ridiculous. She means nothing to me." He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Apparently, you feel the same way about me." You sigh, walking away from him.

"How I feel about you isn't the issue here." He growls. You walk further into the parking lot, leaning against Tony's car. "It is to me!" You argue. You were expecting your night to go completely differently. You didn't think you would be yelling at Loki over feelings in the parking lot. He presses his big body against yours, you're surprised Tony's car alarm hasn't went off yet.

"You were the one who wanted to fuck without feelings, darling. You've done this to yourself." You wanted to smack the arrogant grin off his face. You did tell him you didn't want emotions involved. You were so good with keeping sex and your heart separate. You didn't think it would be any different with Loki. But you did have a little crush on him before this started.

"Let's not talk about this right now." You don't want anyone walking by to hear you fighting. "You silly mortal, you are all that I want. These last few weeks with you have been some of the best of my entire existence." His lips press against yours gently, large hands cradling your face. He reaches behind you, fumbling with the door handle. You’re unsure if Tony left it unlocked or if Loki uses his magic to unlock it.

He finally opened it, letting you crawl into the backseat first. Loki shut the car door quickly behind you, pressing the lock on the luxury car. You climb onto his lap, undoing his dark jeans and freeing his hard cock. He reaches underneath your dress, to take your panties off. You beam when he finds you aren't wearing any. "I figured we would end up doing this at some point, this just makes it easier."

He lowers you onto him, not giving you any time to adjust as he bottoms out. You'll never get over how full you feel. His fingers dig into your hips, moving you so he will hit all the right spots. You hold onto his broad shoulders, just so there is something to keep you tethered here instead of floating off to another realm.

He tilts his hips at the same time he swirls his thumb against your sensitive clit. Your knees stick to the leather of the seats, as you swivel your hips. You feel your arousal soaking his jeans as you ride him. He jerks the top of your dress down, allowing your breasts to spill out. He takes a nipple between his lips, trying to keep hold of it, as you move on him.

"Norns, you feel incredible." He growls, teeth clenched as he tries to keep from cumming. Your legs start shaking as his thumb circles faster on your clit. You lay your head on his shoulder; this was almost too much. "You're taking me so well." He praises as he switches positions. He's behind you as you face Tony's back seat. You grab onto the headrest, as Loki slams back into you. The cool leather of the seat rubbing against your nipples, brings you closer to your release.

You push back against Loki, meeting his thrusts stroke for stroke. He wraps a strong arm around you, leaning forward to bite your shoulder. You explode around him. You feel him grow shaky as he cums inside you. He kisses your back, gently pulling out. You feel the evidence of your love making drip down your thighs, you catch a little bit with your finger, trying to keep it from getting on Tony's expensive seats. You bring it to your lips, licking off the salty taste of you and your lover. “We better get back inside before Cap does a headcount.” You tell him, following Loki back inside on trembling legs.

Tags

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[syrupfog]

When Sanji runs from Germa, he doesn't make it far. He hides away in the brig of a merchant vessel for a short time, but as soon as he's found, they recognize him, and don't want Judge's wrath coming down on them, so they dump him the next time they make landfall.

The island he ends up at is one that's felt the threat of Germa for years, and they too recognize him, whether Sanji tries to deny it or not. Afraid of the omen that they see him as, they send him to an old manor at the edge of town and lock him away. 

He grows up there.

Like the dungeon, he's again alone and despised. 

But he tries to make the best of things. He can see the sun here, can wander the halls without fear, can cook what he wants from what the town delivers to his doorstep, which is often a little rotten but edible. 

He lives.

He assumes this is as good as life will ever get for someone in his position. There is nowhere he could go that they wouldn't know and fear him, despise him; at least here he's free from his family. At least here he can breathe fresh air. 

And then, one day, a man appears.

"Appears" is maybe a generous word. He comes crashing through the front door, armed to the teeth (literally), a sword in each hand and one in his mouth. Sanji, who had been simmering a bouillabaisse, comes running at the noise, spatula in hand for defense. 

The man looks at him.

He narrows his eyes. 

He charges right at Sanji. 

Sanji yelps, ducks behind his spatula as if it will protect him, and cowers. At the last second, his childhood training kicks in. He manages to dodge a swipe and RUNS for it. 

The man, who has made a crater in the wall, follows.

The manor has a maze of rooms, but Sanji's closed most of them off. It's just him here, after all. He runs into one of the first doors he finds and is faced with cobwebs and dust as he slams it behind him. 

He hears heavy footsteps behind the door slow to a stop. 

"Open up."

Oh he is NOT doing that. 

"Hey," says the man who has broken into his home with SWORDS. "I'm not going to attack you." 

"I do NOT believe that," Sanji shrieks. There's a spider in here and he's trying not to run screaming back into the hall. 

"I should've knocked," the man says.

Sanji stutters. "Swords!" he manages to get out. 

"They said there was a monster," the man says. "Paid me fifty thousand to kill it." 

...Oh. 

"Well," Sanji says. "They're right, that is me." 

The townspeople have probably put up with him for long enough. 

He opens the door.

The man is down to just one sword. He eyes Sanji. "Don't look like a monster," he says. "What, you transform in the moonlight?" 

Sanji snorts. "Nah, this is all there is. Was just born a monster. Surprised it took this long for them to try to get rid of me." Cowards, he thinks.

Maybe he's a little bitter. Maybe something inside of him still dreams of something better. T

he man cocks his head. "Pretty shitty monster," he says, sliding his last sword back into its sheath. "I don't need beri enough to cut down someone who defends himself with a spatula."

Sputtering, Sanji realises he's still holding it. "Shut up," he says. "What would you spend it all on anyway? A FOURTH sword?" 

The man shrugs. "Or food," he says. "Got washed up here a week ago, didnt exactly have a lot of pocket change on me." 

And, well. That's the magic word.

"I have food," he says. The bouillabaisse is still simmering. 

The man grins. "Not going to turn you down," he says. "I'm Zoro." 

"Sanji," Sanji says. "If you're not going to kill me, what do you know about fixing doors?" 

"Absolutely nothing," Zoro says.

Zoro... doesn't leave. 

Sanji feeds him, and Zoro has NO manners. He eats like he's never known what it means to be full. He's not talkative, although he's quietly hilarious. In return, Sanji's conversation is stilted. He's not used to talking, especially not to a real person.

But Sanji feeds him and he feeds him again, and Zoro doesn't leave. He leaves his dirty shoes on the carpet and cleans his swords on the kitchen floor while Sanji cooks. When they do talk, the words jump between polite niceties and petty arguments. 

It's... It's good.

Sanji's so happy. He hates the way Zoro seems to live in a state of mess, even while having come into the manor with nothing but the clothes on his back. But he loves the arguments, the verbal sparring, every word an acknowledgement that he's not alone. 

It's too good to be true.

Zoro doesn't talk about himself much, just that he's got a crew out there somewhere. Sanji wonders but doesn't press, an instinctual fear that if he pushes Zoro will leave. Zoro doesn't ask him much either, except for when the food shows up. 

"Cook," Zoro says, "That's rotten."

Sanji picks up a tomato, blackened on one side. "We can cut those bits off," he says. The produce is actually better than usual. 

"They send you rotted mush every week?" 

"Sometimes they skip a week," Sanji says with a shrug. "On holidays, I think." He doesn't own a calendar.

Zoro frowns, but shuts up. Sanji makes stew. 

He makes chili. 

He makes ratatouille. 

They live in companionable silence. Zoro trains and Sanji yells at him to not use the kitchen utensils as weights. 

It goes like this, for weeks. Good weeks. 

But good things don't last forever.

Almost two months on, someone comes crashing through the front door of the manor. For a moment Sanji thinks it's Zoro again, somehow, but remembers Zoro's napping in a sun puddle. 

Knife in hand this time, instead of a spatula, Sanji sneaks around the corner to the front door.

There's... a LOT of people pouring into the house, but front and centre is a man with a scar and a straw hat. He points at Sanji with a serious expression. "Are you the one who killed Zoro?" 

Sanji blanches. "N-no?" he asks. His knife isn't going to defend against NINE people.

Suddenly, from behind him, comes Zoro's voice. "Shut up, Luffy." 

"Zoro!" the man shouts, bounding past Sanji and wrapping himself around Zoro an unnatural number of times. 

"Told you he wasn't dead," a man with a long nose says. "Townspeople are terrible liars."

"Come on, Zoro," a redhead says. "We've got places to be and we just spent two months tracking you down." 

Sanji's stomach sinks. 

Of course. 

These are Zoro's people. His crew. These two months have been the best of Sanji's life, but for Zoro they've just been a waiting game.

He's had people out here looking for him this whole time. He has a world outside these walls. He's going to move on and live his life and forget about this little moment in time. 

This moment that Sanji will think about, dwell on, treasure, for the rest of his life.

He steps back, considers hiding in the pantry until they're gone. Before he's able to entirely flee the room, though, Zoro turns to him. 

"Luf," he says. "This guy's coming with us." 

Sanji stops. "Uh," he says. 

"He's a cook," Zoro says. 

Luffy turns to him. "Yeah?" he asks.

"I-" Sanji shakes his head. "I can't leave," he says. 

"Yes you can," Zoro tells him. "You're staying here because you think you deserve this." 

Luffy, standing between them, looks back and forth. "Zoro knows what he's talking about," he says to Sanji. "I trust him. You coming?"

"I'm a monster," Sanji says, because that's what the townspeople call him. They sent Zoro to KILL him, they know he's a monster. 

"You're not," Zoro says. "Come on, Cook. Come with us. You can live, now." 

Sanji wants to live. 

It's all he's ever wanted. 

"Promise?" he asks.

"Fucking promise," Zoro says, and he grabs Sanji's wrist. 

Pulls him out the door. 

Into a world Sanji thought was beyond him. 

He follows nine strangers and a swordsman who attempted to kill him onto a ship and into the bright blue ocean and doesn't once look back. 

He lives.

[reve-writes]

—fixer upper. | alice in borderland chishiya shuntarō x reader.

you were shot. he helped you not bleed out to death. | set in s2 beginning of king of spades.

CHISHIYA WAS CUNNING AND SELF-PRESERVING. While it would've slightly hurt your feelings if he had left you, it would be very much in-character of him.

He cussed when the first spray of bullets was fired, finding cover. You cussed seconds later, leaning against a pillar, your hand hovering over a fresh bullet wound just above your hip bone.

"Fuck," you repeatedly said, trying to stay calm despite the adrenaline pumping through you. You needed to think of the different ways you could get to safety, away from the gun-crazed maniac.

"Can you move?" Chishiya asked, noticing the blooming blood on your jacket.

You closed your eyes, the pain was starting to sink in. "You go. I'll wait for the shooter to walk past and make a run for it."

He said nothing and for a terrible second, you thought you were actually alone. Having been in the Beach for quite a while, you weren't used to isolation. Your eyes shot open when you felt someone grab your hand.

"Can you walk?" He asked again, slinging your arm over his shoulders.

You stare at him blankly for a second. He asked again, with an annoyed click of his tongue. "Can you walk or not?"

"I can try," you answered, hobbling along the sidewalk with the silver-haired man. You hissed and cursed every time he pulled or pushed you swiftly to take cover.

"You're regretting it, huh? Should've left me," you teased, watching him as he frowned with effort.

"Stop talking and move faster."

Finally, he ducked under an apothecary, pulling you inside with him, waddling as far away from the doors and windows as possible. You hid behind the cash register counter while gunshots rang over and over again outside. Until, eventually the sound got quieter and disappeared.

Chishiya peeked over the counter. Still quiet. He gingerly stood up and walked quietly over around the counter.

"I have the shittiest luck," you complained. "Can't even die from the shot. Now I have to sit here and bleed to death in pain."

"On the contrary, I think your luck is keeping you alive," he replied, shuffling about between the shelves.

You shrugged, not that Chishiya could see it. "Maybe I'm lucky to be stuck with you then."

It was silent for a second and two and five.

"Are you—"

You interrupted him, "Because you're a med student! I didn't mean to make it weird."

"You remembered," he said, putting a handful of supplies next to you. Gauze, anesthetic, antiseptics. Sat facing you, Chishiya put on a pair of latex gloves.

"Take off your jacket."

"Huh?"

Still as expressionless as ever, he tugged on the bottom hem of your jacket. "Off."

You slid down the zipper awkwardly. Chishiya was completely professional while dressing your wound. You were staring at him, shamelessly, as his blood-slicked hand pressed against your torso.

Were his lashes always this long?

Chishiya knew he should have left you. Your plan most likely would have worked, assuming the shooter was trying to rack up as many victims as they could, you would've been safe hiding until they walked past.

However, seeing the blood slicking your clothes, he could feel himself tensing. He couldn't leave this to a probability. A dozen different scenarios went through his head—all of them with you, dead. At that moment, his caution was thrown in the wind. You couldn't die. Not there, not then.

He was so used to having you around him that the thought of you dying never really crossed his mind. Would he simply go on? Would he grieve? He didn't want to dwell on the thought. This was the one thing he didn't mind not knowing—what he would do after you.

"You'll be fine," Chishiya said finally, security the bandage around your torso. "Rest up."

"I'm fine now," you said stubbornly. You tried to push yourself off of the ground, but the room spun around you. You fell, lying down on the floor with your hand on your eyes, groaning.

"You lost a lot of blood. Get some rest."

When you woke up much later, there were a fresh, clean jacket, a bottle of water, and a couple cans of food by your side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

[ ]

[tojivu]

stopp i need more of gojo w six eyes omg 😭😭😭 that last one was so adorable

# SIX II ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note you ask and i deliver :3 please keep the asks flowin my 2 month break is soon!! i am fortunately very free.. also i think i might make one with husband satoru :7

✰ — cw / tags fiance!satoru , read part 1 first because it makes more sense , gn!reader , swearing , gojo being so pretty you’re literally in a daze LOL , not proofread , sfw as always

✰ — playing endlessly by alina baraz.

✰ — word count 1k

"they need to start a fucking cab service here."

GOJO SATORU, your now fiancé, has been whining for the past half an hour—and as his lover, it is your (unconsented) responsibility to hear all of it. the snowy haired man walking in front of you has his handheld fan out in a futile attempt to cool himself off, and of course it reaps no benefit: it's thirty three degrees, ninety one in fahrenheit. what would a measly fan be able to do?

that's precisely what you say to him, your mood was sour as well; having to listen to your querulous husband-to-be grumble about the weather and the walking distance was taking a toll on you.

"plus. . . who was the one who," you found that talking made you feel hotter, so you tried to refrain from long strings of words. "asked to eat at a restaurant. . ."

you huff. ". . .40 minutes away from the station. . ."

you two were sick of tokyo, and you suppose it's partially your fault as well: you've been pestering him for the past month to visit the countryside to get some fresh air. you thought it would be cooler here, seeing as to how rare cars and buses were to come by—ironically, a car or bus is exactly what you two need at this moment.

at least now, your pool of choices for honeymoon destinations are narrowed—the silver lining that was not so silver amidst the heat, and compared to the amount of walking you had to endure.

"we should've just went to switzerland."

it takes a long while before you two make any turn. the pavement is stretched long and far, and the only buildings you'd come across were tiny houses belonging to the countryfolk.

gojo is walking backwards, ranting to you about what could've been in the swiss alps: on and on about snowball fights with you and napping together on a couch in front of a cozy fire. all of his eyes are looking at you, a pitiful gaze in each pair.

yet, you're still here, in the blistering and merciless heat. there was nothing complaints would change, it’s not like you could teleport.

"well, just book a flight to switzerland yourself, then!" you hiss, looking away from gojo, who seemed so unappreciative of the quality time he’s spending with the alleged love of his life.

your scolding makes him laugh. a smug smile spreads across his face, because he was just kidding: he supposes it's not half bad because you're still here with him.

though, he still thinks it would be better by tenfold if the weather was just a little bit more compassionate.

you don’t realise gojo’s stopped walking and is standing in front of you, as you’re preoccupied with the sulky attitude; you bump into him, almost tripping and falling off the concrete pavement—not before he catches you with quick arms and undeniable strength.

you would’ve fallen face flat onto the road if not for your fiancé instinctively reaching for you, and he’s prepared for an earful when you realise what just happened.

“satoru,” you grit your teeth. he closes his eyes, all six of them, in preparation for the scolding he was going to receive from you. “do you not have anything in that dense skull of yours?“

his arms are firm around your waist and your hat is poking at his chest. you look up at him, realising his eyes are open now—blinking at you ever so slowly, as if asking for pity.

all six of his eyes blink in sync, and you spend a good ten seconds staring at his face. something about the way his eyes glistened in the harsh sunlight and the way his hair frames them perfectly, snowy white hair clashing with the blues of his irises—a trance was what he had you under.

“stop looking at me like that.”

“i thought you liked them.” gojo puts on a pout, and it’s too obvious that he’s fishing for your affection—he might as well just ask you to tell him what he wants to hear.

nevertheless, you spoil satoru; as you have always done and continue to do. you think he’s too used to your cooing and that somebody definitely needs to humble him, but you know that somebody wouldn’t be you.

“i love them, ‘toru.” you say, and his pout disappears as quickly as it came. “i love you.”

the whites of his teeth shine in the sunlight when he hears you say those precious words; it never fails to confuse you, how easy it is to please gojo—except that it isn’t, he was only easy when it came to you.

he takes off your hat and you scowl at the heat that your hat has been shielding you from. gojo presses a kiss onto your forehead, not pulling away even after seconds have passed.

“love you more.”

you scoff. “i’m not getting into that argument with you.”

he finally pulls away and his eyes blink at you again, with that same sulking expression. “so you don’t wanna say it back? do you not love me more, y/n?”, and there goes his comedically unconvincing pout.

you bite the inside of your cheek, attempting to put on the sternest look you can; but you take one more good look at him and it’s utterly useless.

people found it hard to get their ways with you. you were a stubborn person, naturally—standing your ground was something that came easy to you. you wonder why it’s different with satoru, though.

perhaps it was his face, his painstakingly handsome face—but you know it definitely had something to do with the way he looked at you, the way his eyes and gaze made you weak in the knees.

“i love you more.” you give in for the second time, and seeing the smirk on his face form makes you realise you’ve done it again: fallen right into his trap.

the pairs of eyes on his forehead and cheeks shut their eyelids. “no, think i love you more.” satoru declares before planting another kiss, this time on your right cheek. “i know i do.”

such a sly man, you think—you wouldn’t marry anyone else.

221023 — it’s 4am..

[beybaldes]

And somehow I know that you and I would've found each other

roy kent x gn!reader

word count : 8.7k

masterlist

summary : you and roy always end up finding your way back to each-other

content warning : taylor popped the fuck off with the speak now vault tracks especially timeless (another timeless fic coming out soon!!!!), slow burn that takes place over 36 years - dermatologists hate me! Roy’s sister is dubbed Molly yet again, I steal britanny brett for plot because I’m obsessed with @onceuponaoneshotfanfic and superstar (check it out now if you still haven’t, and if you have already, then reread it!!!!!!)

It's 1991 and youre not old enough to understand why your neighbour, and best friends older brother Roy, has to move away. You're only 4 years old, and so is Molly, and Roy's only 9 - so you're not sure why he's going away, where he's going, or if he's ever going to come back.

All you do know is that you and Molly's little arms are wrapped tightly around each other and you feel like it's never going to be enough to fill the hole of Roy's absence.

It's a cool September morning and Roy knows that December 19th - the day he gets to come back home for Christmas - is exactly 107 days away, but not even the last dregs of summers warmth can make this moment something he's going to look back fondly on.

He's got blankie folded perfectly at the bottom of his backpack and your favourite teddy bear wrapped up in it. Even though he wouldn't discover it until he'd arrived at Sunderland, you knew it was there and that Roy would look after it, and it made everything feel just a little bit better.

When Roy's Grandad announces that it's time to go, he gives you and Molly one last hug, pressing a kiss to both of your heads and promising to write and call whenever he can. You and Molly chase the car until the end of the street, where it turns a corner and Molly's mum calls you back to the house; you linger long enough to watch Roy turn from one of your best friends into a blurry figure in the back of a car.

Ms Kent gives you and Molly ice lolly's from the freezer and puts on 'Cinderella' while you eat them. She then sits through 'Sleeping Beauty,’ ‘The Little Mermaid', and 'Beauty and the Beast' with the two of you until your tears have long since stopped and you've fallen asleep in each others arms.

The following morning, Ms Kent nearly has a heart attack when she doesn't find you in Molly's bed, but her worry is soon ended when she realises the door to Roy's room is half opened and you're quietly curled up in tear stained sheets. Slowly, she wakes you up, and when fresh tears spring to your eyes she's quick to pull you into her arms. As she rocks you gently in her hold, she promises you that the prince always returns to the princess; even if it takes breaking a curse or waiting for 100 years.

They always find each-other in the end and live happily ever after.

And 107 days is nothing when you're 4 years old, it's the blink of an eye and sticky melted ice lolly on your hands, it's your first ever school uniform and glitter from Christmas crafts that you cant get off you no matter how many showers you take, and it goes by even quicker when Roy comes home 10 days sooner then expected.

You don't see him for the first 5 days. Roy locked himself away in his room and refused to come out or speak to anyone. But when the sixth day, and the weekend, finally rolls around, you decide to do something about it.

For a 9 year old, Roy sure had a lot to think about. He never got to say goodbye to his grandad, and he wasn't going to teach him how to ride a bike, or see him score his first professional goal, or get married, and he didn't know how to explain that when he went back to Sunderland come new year, he wasn't going away in the same capacity granddad had.

No 9 year old should've been thinking of all that.

Roy hadn't been expecting any visitors, not that he wanted any, but when you barged your way into his bedroom, he couldn't bring himself to send you away.

"Go away." Roy had growled, hidden beneath blankie and curled tightly into himself. "I want to be alone." Roy hadn't meant a lick of it and you hadn't believed any of it either.

"No, you don't." Though you had to wriggle your little self into his arms, you did it, and beamed proudly against his pyjama clad chest when he let you cuddle up to him. Roy had hugged you tightly, pulling you closer to him and wrapping blankie tightly around you both. "I missed you, Royo."

"You packed Dave in my bag." Roy stated, not asking why, or whether you wanted the teddy bear back, or telling you that he'd actually left it in Sunderland for when he went back in a few weeks time.

"You need him more then I do." Roy just nodded his head at your words, willing himself not to cry at the guilt he felt over leaving you and Molly behind and thinking about something other then his grandad. "And, if you have Dave, and Dave is mine, then you have to come and give him back to me. You have to come back from sundayland."

"Sunderland."

"What's that?" You tilted your head up to look at Roy, and found him already looking at you, half a smile on his lips.

"It's nothing."

Both you and Roy fell asleep in his room, under the safety of blankie, talking about 'sundayland' and everything good about his time there. It wasn't until tea time that his mum found the two of you and dragged you down stairs for dinner, teasing Roy once you'd gone home that you definitely had a little crush on him.

~*~

Roy's transfer to Chelsea once the season is over is announced just before your 16th birthday and you swear it's the best birthday present you've ever gotten. He's newly 21 and he's got this shaggy mullet thing going on that really shouldn't be working for him, but it is. You can't keep your eyes off of him, and Roy pretends not to notice for what he tells himself is your sake. He knows it isn't.

When his car pulls up in the drive for the first time since the weekend he came down for Mollys birthday, you and Molly run out of the house hand in hand to greet him, crying his name. He lets the two of you crash into him and wrap your arms tightly around him, almost squeezing him to death when he finds himself sandwiched between the two of you.

Roy's barely been on home soil for 10 seconds when Molly pulls away from the hug to look up at her big brother with the best puppy dog eyes she can muster up at 16. "Will you buy us drinks to take to leavers?”

"Fuck off, buy your own." You don't unwrap your arms from around Roy while they bicker, quite enjoying the familiarity of the scene before you. It was almost too long ago to fathom the last time Roy had been home long enough to start a fight with Molly, and though you never thought you'd say it, it was really nice to see.

"Incase you lost some brain cells this season, you have to be 18 to buy alcohol, fuckhead." Roy just stared blankly at Molly, and ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm as you stayed curled in his side, thinking about how similar Roy and Molly really are when it comes down to it. "So, I need you to buy it for us."

"Ask mum to buy it for you."

Molly immediately scoffs, throwing her hands in the air and muttering under her breath that she was genuinely concerned that Roy had lost some brain cells from all the headers he'd done this season. "Don't you think I tried that, dumbass? Mum said no to both of us."

Roy's gaze turned to meet yours, surprised to find you already looking at him. "Please Royo, everyone else will be drinking at leavers." Roy could never say no to you, and he was convinced both you and Molly knew that and had concocted this scheme to get him to buy it for you. He didn't mind saying yes, at least not this time, at least not when it was you asking.

Molly ran back into the house with an excited cry, promising to return with all the money she'd owe Roy for the drinks plus some as a charitable donation for his kindness.

For the first time in almost a year, you and Roy where completely alone together. He spared a moment to look at you, really look at you; notice how your hair had gotten longer and that your sense of style had completely changed, that the early summer sun was already tanning your skin and that you still had your arms around him. Roy only tightened his grip on you, dragging you into and around the house with him until you made it to the living room.

His mum had repainted since he'd last been down to visit from Sunderland and there were new photos on the wall behind the settee; mainly of you and Molly on your last day of school and one of Roy at his last match playing for Sunderland.

"You look like a proper footballer now, Royo." Despite every other seat in the living room being free, you took purchase on the arm of the chair right beside Roy and pray no one thinks it's a sign of the bubbling feelings you have for him. You may only be 16 but you're sure you've been in love with Roy for the better part of your life. It's one thing for everyone to tease you about you and Roy having little crushes on each other as kids, it's a whole other thing for people to tease you for having a crush on him when you actually did.

Roy scoffed, taking a long swig from the beer he'd grabbed from the kitchen when he first got to the house, swallowing down his smile. "But not enough for you to stop calling me 'Royo,' apparently."

"You could be the most famous footballer on the planet and I'd still call you Royo." You reached up for his hair and ruffled it, laughing at the way he pulled away from your touch and went to flatten his hair back out almost immediately. "But I mean it, you look like the kind of footballer kids have posters of up on their walls, that they want to be when they grow up."

And you're entirely right. Somewhere up in Manchester, a 6 year old Jamie Tartt is pinning a poster of your Roy up on his wall and promising himself, and his dad, that all of his time and money spent on football practice will one day pay off  - that he's going to be one of the greats, just like Roy Kent.

"You'll always be my Royo, Roy. Even when you're super famous and don't remember me anymore." Your hand had somehow found it's way back into Roy's hair and he couldn't bring himself to move away from your touch. Since his sudden rise to fame, in which it seemed like he'd become an overnight sensation, he couldn't remember when he was last touched so gently. Touching only to touch, not because they wanted something from him or his name.

Roy couldn't keep in the smile that pulled at his lips. It faltered slightly at the fact he couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled, let alone genuinely, but it quickly returned and warmed his face when he meet your eyes. "And how could I ever forget the likes of you, yeah?"

Somewhere between shared words and glances, his hand had found yours and the two of you couldn't tear your eyes away from the other. "Dinners ready, guys." Molly was well known for her perfect timing, and despite some initial upset at the moment being taken from you, you knew it was for the better. Roy was Molly's brother, your best friends brother, who had 5 years on you yet.  Though you knew it was unlikely anything would ever happen between the two of you, moments like this made you think there was a small possibility something one day would. The thought wasn't one worth seriously entertaining. "Did I... interrupt something?"

"What? No way." You and Molly ran from the room hand in hand, giggles bubbling past your lips and exchanged, in hushed whispers, the conversation that Molly had just walked in on.

It was like Roy had never left as he followed the two of you into the dining room. He took his seat across the table from you like he always did and knocked his foot against yours every time he wanted your attention. Dinner was good and before he knew it you were half on top of him on the sofa, sneaking bites from his plate of dessert as everyone else partook in the worlds most heated game of Pictionary.

He gave a sharp nudge to your ribs when you stole the last bite but quickly soothed it over with the gentle drumming of his fingers against your skin. The pair of you talked in hushed tones for the rest of the evening about his transfer to Chelsea and everything he was looking forward to now that he was back in London, as well as all your plans for your super long summer before you started college in September.

It was only when Roy's mum turned to ask if you were going home or staying over that anyone had noticed the two of you cuddled up in the armchair in the corner of the room, both fast asleep. She didn't dare wake you, thankful to see her son at peace for the first time in what felt like years, instead placing a blanket over the two of you and ushering Molly up to bed despite her insistence that you come with her.

One day, she thought, the two of you would finally see yourselves in other people, realise that if love looks like that then the two of you must be in it, and with any luck she'd still be alive to see it. She knew Roy was stubborn enough to keep that from happening. Maybe he would't be this time; at least, not when it came to you.

~*~

When the rumours of Roy's relationship with Britanny Brett are confirmed by a quote she gives in an interview, he finds himself typing out an apology to you. He stares at his phone for 3 hours and the most he can type out is 'I didn't want you to find out like this, I'm sorry,' but he still doesn't send it. Roy's not entirely sure what he's apologising for.

It's the night before his 27th birthday and he's debating whether or not he should show up to the birthday dinner his mum has planned for him tomorrow. You'll be there. He knows it. But only because he knows that Molly dragged you back from uni with her just for the occasion. And for some reason that he can't quite place, or just doesn't want to yet, he feels bad about having to see your face and hear you talk about his girlfriend.

Although Brittany Brett is smoking hot, and they have really great sex, he's not sure he wants to take her home to meet his family. To meet you. Sure, she's a great footballers girlfriend, but he's a little worried about what the people who know him as just Roy will think of her.

When she appears on the other side of his door the morning of his 27th birthday, the first thing he says to her is 'you can't come to my birthday party' and he feels like he's 8 years old again and making mortal enemies in the playground at school. She doesn't acknowledge his comment, instead inviting herself in and making herself at home in Roy's living room, and he's never been more thankful for her 'too good for everyone' demeanour.

He drops her off at her house on the way over to his mums house later that evening. Roy decides he hates the way her perfume lingers in his car and has buried itself under his skin. He wants nothing more then for it to get away from him but there's still 20 minutes left of the drive and he knows the second you hear the car pull up you'll come running out the door and he won't have anytime to get the smell off of him.

When he pulls up on the doorstep of his childhood home 20 minutes later, only Molly comes running from the house to greet him. For a minute he thinks you haven't shown up to celebrate his birthday with him and he feels his heart break in two. He tells himself he doesn't know why. However, when he walks into the house and heads straight to the kitchen in search of a beer to calm his nerves, and help him forget about you, he finds you there, helping his mum with making his favourite dinner and a wide smile on your face.

You notice him lingering, shocked, in the doorway and pull him into your arms. There's less strength to your hold then he's used to but he feels grateful that you even want him in your arms after everything he's done. Now Roy really isn't sure why he's talking like that; like you've been hard done by from his relationship with Brittany Brett. To a degree he feels like he's cheated on you, but he can't have done because the two of you were never together. However, he doesn't let the thought linger, instead pulling you tighter against him and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Of course you'd be here, of course you would, but he finds himself holding onto you for a little longer then he probably should just to make sure you're really here and really staying.

Dinner is nice. It's a piece of simplicity he's missed every night since he was 9 years old and heading away to Sunderland for the first time. It's not often nowadays that he gets to eat dinner at a dining table surrounded by people he loves and who love him, so he relishes in every moment of it. He lets his hand brush against yours when he asks for the salt and he nudges your foot with his every-time he wants your attention. Being in this room, in this seat, with you, is like being 8 years old again and everything bad is yet to happen to him. Roy realises he likes the feeling of it more then he ever remembers.

No one brings up Brittany Brett, the way Roy smelt like her when you hugged him, the apology he never sent, or the way you cried in Molly and Ms Kent's arms when you found out he had a girlfriend. Dinner is peaceful and you and Roy share a slice of birthday cake on his Grandad's armchair, then fall asleep together there like he doesn't have a girlfriend and you don't have a broken heart.

His mum feels like she's got two children in her house and she wishes it would stay like this forever, as long as that meant Roy couldn't hurt your heart more then he already had. But Roy is stubborn, and she knows that. When she comes downstairs in the morning it's just you on the armchair with Roy's jacket over your shoulders like a blanket. You're hugging the material tightly against you as if it could ever replace Roy's presence, and even though you're still asleep, both of you know it won't.

When Roy sneaks out at 4am, the first thing he does is drive to Brittany Brett's house and breaks up with her. After all, there's no point being with someone when you know for a fact that you're in love with someone else.

~*~

Molly's dating this guy who doesn't let her speak to you, or Roy, or her own mum and you're scared for her life. In the two times you've managed to get a hold of her, you begged and pleaded with her to leave him. She's only 25 and so are you, you could run away together and start it all over and no one would know any different. Both times she said she wanted to be with him, that she loved him. All you want is your best friend back and for her to be safe, and rather selfishly, because you need her more then you've ever needed anyone.

Despite trying all day, you can't reach her, or her boyfriend, and you don't know who else to call. Ms Kent was the only real parental figure you'd had growing up, but it was pushing midnight and you didn't want to wake her up for the sake of your own comfort. Roy's number is below hers on your favourite contacts and you don't hesitate to ring it. You know he's got a match this weekend and practice tomorrow but you need someone and you have no one else to keep you from your own mind.

Roy's in some club in north London when his phone rings and his screen illuminates with your name and a picture of the two of you from last Christmas. It's one of the newcomers 21st birthday and he remembers being 21 and moving to Chelsea, moving back home, like it was yesterday. He's got 10 years on the kid who's just starting his career while he's going on aging out of it. It's almost enough to make him feel old.

He's quick to answer the phone, practically running out of the club to make sure he can hear you and he's already walking back to his car when he hears the suppressed sniffle to your voice. Roy can't see 100% past 9pm anymore so he doesn't drink when he goes out with the team, he knows it'll only make it worse, and for the first time ever, it's actually come in use.

It takes him 37 minutes exactly to drive from the club to your childhood home that's pressed brick by brick against his, and that's only because he made a pit stop to his own house on the way over. Every time he comes back here lately, it feels like some cruel trick of fate, that he can't have you but can have his entire life shaped by you.

He's banging his fist loudly against the door before he can take into consideration that your neighbours, one of which is his own mother, are likely asleep and wouldn't take too kindly to being woken up at this hour. When you open the door to a friendly face, you all but collapse into Roy's arms, already sobbing and heaving and trying to get the words out but not being able to do so. He scoops you up into his arms, years of intense football training allowing him to do it without second though, and carries you to your bedroom.

He placed you against the pillows and then kicks off his shoes, he definitely scuffed them up in the process but Roy couldn't seem to find the time to mind. Before you've managed to get a single word out Roy's stripped off the bulk of his suit, leaving him in just a shirt, boxers and socks. The image is kind of funny and if you weren't so devastated, you were sure you'd be laughing.

"What's wrong?" When Roy's hands gently wrap around your wrists to try and pull them away from your face and get a glance at you, you just start crying harder. "C'mon sweetheart, talk to me."

When he's met with more silence he pulls out his surprise weapon, a raggedy, old teddy bear, with matted fur that smells surprisingly like Roy. "Would it be easier to talk to Dave?" Finally your hands move away from your face to get a look at the teddy bear, not believing it's right in front of you when you know you haven't seen it since you were five yours old. It took a couple of minutes, lots of sniffling, and really willing yourself to say it, but eventually you did. Roy's arms around your and the soft touch of Dave's fur against your skin settling your nerves.

"My dad died this morning." Roy didn't hesitate to pull you into his lap, settling himself against your pillows as he brought you closer to him. "And I have no one to tell. Molly's boyfriend won't let her speak to me anymore, and I didn't want to burden your mum with it, and I just... I didn't know who to call or talk to and I know you were probably busy-"

"Hey, hey, don't. You did the right thing calling me. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, yeah?" Both of Roy's hands are cradling your face, forcing you to look at him and really listen to what he wants to say. "I'm here, okay? I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

You shuffle in his lap, turning enough that you can bury your head in the crook of his neck and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Roy's warm and surprisingly comfy, but you reckon that's more so because the skin of his thighs are pressing into the skin of yours and you're sure it's the closest you've ever been to him. You try not to think about how you wouldn't mind being this close to him more often.

The rest of the night is spent with you in Roy's arms, his hand running up and down your back, his other hand cradling your face and wiping away each tear that spills over. He lets you ramble and ramble about everything on your mind with no regard for the fact he's got practice at 8am tomorrow. Even when you fall asleep in his arms, tears staining his brand new shirt, practice is the furthest thing from his mind, so much so that he doesn't even remember sending  Di Matteo the text saying he wasn't well and wouldn't be able to make practice in the morning.

Roy wakes up a long time before you, and he finds he has to practically drag himself away from you and the bed. When his eyes blink open he sees the sight he's spent the better part of his life waiting to see: you're in his arms, fast asleep, looking entirely peaceful and for a minute he can pretend that this is his life. While the haze of sleep has yet to fade, he can act like he wakes up to you every morning, that you love him like he loves you, and that, if he wanted to, he could press kisses all over your face until you woke up and flashed him that bright beautiful smile of yours.

If he wanted to, he could press kisses all over your face until you woke up and you would greet him with a soft smile, pressing a kiss to his face in return and not caring if it landed against his lips, cheek, or jaw, because you know you'll be able to kiss the other places whenever you like.

Roy pulls himself out of bed and drags his feet all the way to your kitchen where he cooks the two of you breakfast. Nothing about it is rushed - he knows that he has nowhere to be but here, with you. He knows you've woken up when he can hear the gentle padding of your feet against your bedroom floor. Roy hears you walk down the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen, where you then cross the room to him, and wrap your arms around his waist. Dave is clutched in on of your hands and your head is pressed against the dimples of his shoulder blades, your other hand fiddling with the hem of the front of his T-shirt, so casually that any passer by would think this was routine. And even though it isn't, Roy takes the risk of placing his hand atop your own and lacing his fingers through yours. When he can feel you smile into his back, he thinks maybe he should've kissed you in the bedroom, that maybe you'd have liked it just as much as he would've.

~*~

It's another year after your dad died before Molly finds out. She doesn't show up to Christmas, or Easter, but she comes by one late spring afternoon when Ms Kent had invited you and Roy over for picky bits in the garden, with a bin bag full of her belongings and a black eye. If your hand wasn't holding Roy's so tightly you were sure he would've been right out of the door, driving off to find the prick and give him an even worse beating then he'd given his sister.

You pull Roy with you when you cross the garden to engulf Molly in a hug, both of you breaking down at the contact and apologies tumbling from both of your lips. Molly apologises for not being there when your dad died, and not attending the funeral, you force her to take back her apology while also shoving your own down her throat, apologising for not finding her, for not being there. The two of you only cry harder when Roy pulls the two of you, still hugging, into his embrace. It's warm and his hands are big and it makes you feel like you're a child again, and you suppose that in some ways you still are.

It takes almost half an hour for the two of you to calm down enough for any coherent words to get out, and the first ones that do is that Molly's pregnant and she needs somewhere to stay. Immediately you ask her to move in with you. It's perfect really, you're next door to her mum and you've got a room for her and for the baby (when it comes) now that your dads passed. Roy likes the idea even more; something about his three, soon to be four, favourite people being in one place taking his fancy.

The eight months between Molly showing back up and beautiful baby Phoebe being born seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. The soft, warm, yellow paint of phoebes nursery smears your memories of those months; everything about it is caked in the glow of the summer you have when you're 5 years old and have no care in the world.

You and Molly are best friends again and it's like you never missed two years of each others lives; everything just falls right back into place. The two of you do everything together and you wouldn't have it any other way, even when everything includes being in the room with her and Ms Kent when she's giving birth.

Roy, unluckily, is the only one not invited into the room, and he spends almost 6 hours pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth in the waiting room, waiting for some kind of an update on his sister and his niece. It's you that comes to give it to him. You're in blue scrubs that you pull off further with every step you take into the waiting room, running right into Roy's arms with the widest smile he's ever seen cross your face.

"She's beautiful, Roy. She's so beautiful." He just nods his head and allows you to take his hand and pull him in the direction of the room Molly and his mum are in. "I love her so much already and she's only been here for 5 minutes."

Roy understood what you meant as soon as he walked into the room. Molly was absolutely glowing, and cradling this tiny, tiny baby in her arms like she was terrified any movement at all might hurt her - she didn't even look like she was breathing less it hurt the baby.

"Do you want to hold her?" You whispered, nudging his foot with yours to gain his attention. "You won't break her, promise." You didn't give Roy the opportunity to answer, instead eagerly taking the baby off of Molly and walking over to Roy. His mum all but pushed him into one of the chairs they had in the room and lectured him on how to hold the baby correctly. Slowly, you lowered her into his arms, making sure he had a comfortable and safe grip on her before you removed your arms from the little Phoebe completely. "Isn't she amazing?"

Roy can already picture it and it's breaking his heart. You, and him, and a little baby wrapped in a blanket with eyes that don't yet know how to open. But, in the daydream he doesn't tell anyone about, you're holding the baby and his arms are around you, whispering how much he loves you into your ear and promising to do everything for that baby. Your baby. He doesn't yet know if a day like that is ever going to come; he'd have to get over himself first, and he doesn't see that happening anytime soon. For you, however, he just might try.

"Yeah, yeah she is."

Molly and little baby Phoebe have to stay in the hospital overnight, but can be discharged in the morning, and Molly doesn't let any of you stay with her. In fact, she demands the three of you head home and come back tomorrow, well rested to drive her and newborn Phoebe home.

The three of you pick up some chinese takeout on your way home and eat it around Ms Kent's dinner table. Molly's absence is so heavily felt that part of you feels thrust back in time to a year ago, when you didn't have any contact with her and didn't know if she was even alive, let alone okay. It shakes you to your core and you leave your dinner half eaten as you excuse yourself to the bathroom just to breathe. When you return to the table, you find that dinner has been cleared away, but Ms Kent is holding out a spoon for you, pointing you in the direction of the living room.

Roy's sat in his grandads armchair with the biggest bowl of ice cream you've ever seen and he opens up his arms to you when he feels you staring at him from the doorway. You didn't hesitate to sit with him, squished up in the seat that fit the both of you slightly better when you were kids, with Roy's arm around your shoulders. When you didn't take a large helping of ice cream for yourself, he nudged the bowl in your direction.

"When Molly came home, I'd get in bed with her each night." You whispered, only loud enough that Roy would be able to hear you. It felt embarrassing, to try and explain why you felt Molly's absence for one night so vastly, but you knew that if anyone would get it, it would be Roy. "For the first month or so, she'd ask me to stay with her, so she knew she wasn't alone and she was safe. So I did. And then one night she was like 'I don't need you in bed with me anymore, I think I'm okay now,' and I didn't know what to do." You stuck your spoon inside the ice-cream, stirring it around the bowl but never bringing the build up of vanilla on the spoon to your lips. "I got in bed that night and I couldn't sleep at all, so I went and knocked on her door and she was still awake. Told me she couldn't sleep either, and I got right back into bed with her." Tears pricked at your eyes and your spoon fell against the bowl. "I don't know what to do without Molly, Royo, I don't want to have to do without her again."

Roy quickly moved the half eaten bowl of ice cream to the coffee table, pulling you into him and cradling your head against his shoulder. "Molly's not going anywhere, babe, she'll be home in the morning. Everything's going to be okay."

Neither of you brought up how he called you babe, and his mum didn't bring up how you fell asleep cuddled up in the armchair like you did when you were kids. But when Roy brought Phoebe and Molly home the following morning, and Molly and Ms Kent had taken Phoebe upstairs to get her settled into her new home, he pulled you in for a hug.

"Told you so." He whispered in your ear, pressing a featherlight kiss to your temple. Then Roy grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers with his and pulling you up the stairs to join Phoebe in her new room. Dave was in his other hand and he continued to stand by you as you placed it in the crib with her, knowing that she needed Dave more then you or Roy did now.

All of you couldn't wait to watch this little girl grow up surrounded by people who loved her so, so much.

~*~

Roy gets transferred to Richmond just before Phoebe's 4th birthday and you tease him that he has a penchant for getting the best kinds of birthday present. He asks why you remember so clearly that his transfer to Chelsea 15 years ago was just before your 16th birthday, and you answer honestly that it was the only thing you'd wanted for your birthday that year - for Roy to be closer to home. You immediately get to tease him again as a blush coats his cheeks.

On his first day at Richmond, he gets you, Molly and Phoebe seats in the family box, says that they'll always be there if you ever want to come and watch him play, and you reply that you always watch him play.

"I've been playing professionally for half my life. Sunderland, Chelsea, and now Richmond. I've never seen you even glimpse at a football match."

You scoff immediately and Roy's slightly taken aback, you almost look angry at what he's saying and he doesn't know why because he's right. Not that it matters to him, but you just don't like football that much; he doesn't blame you or anything, each to their own, but he wishes you'd like it for him. "I've seen every game you've ever played."

"Yeah, right."

"Yeah, right." You turned to Roy, putting down the bag filled with Phoebe's first ever school uniform inside now that you'd made it back home. "I'm serious. I've watched every match you've ever played in. All of your games with Sunderland and Chelsea, and I'll watch all your games now that you're at Richmond." You turn to Roy with a tense crease in your brow and he's wishing he never brought it up. "You're important to me Roy, of course I'd watch every time you play."

"What's sundayland, babe?" Phoebe had ran into the living room when she'd heard the door go, excited that you and Roy returned home. Molly and you had called each other babe since you were teenagers, and Phoebe had taken to calling you babe over your actual name. It didn't help that Roy had let it slip a few time too, only reassuring her that she was calling you by the correct thing.

"It's nothing, pheeb's." You scooped the little blonde into your arms, resting her against your jutted out hip and beginning to wander through the house. "Where your mum? You need to try on your uniform."

"Can I give you a fashion show?" She asked, leaning her head against your shoulder in a way that had Roy thinking about the two of you with a kid again. He'd have to ask you out first, and with each year that passed, the possibility of him actually doing that seemed to get slimmer and slimmer.

"Of course you can, Pheeb's. Go get dressed. Me and your uncle Roy will wait in the living room."

You stuck to your word, watching every single match that Roy played in. Sometimes at Nelson road, sometimes with Molly and Phoebe, sometimes in Ms Kent's living room - but you always watched him play.

The first time Molly let you take Phoebe to Nelson road was as your birthday present the same year Phoebe turned 6. You'd been pleading all year for Molly to let you bring Phoebe along to a home game, and she finally caved - on the condition you kept her ear defenders on all night and left if it got too much for her. Phoebe loved every minute of the match, screamed her little heart out just for the sake of joining in, even if she didn't know what people were saying; You were certain her cry of 'uncle Roy' every time she saw him with the ball was the loudest in the stadium.

When the match was over, a man with glasses found you in the stands, introduced himself as 'Higgins,' handed you two family lanyards with Kent plastered all over them, and asked you to follow him. You're barely in the changing rooms when Phoebe lets go of your hand, crying Roy's name and interrupting a speak from that new, American coach that Roy had complained about.

"Phoebe!" The blonde didn't wait up for you, running right at Roy and knowing he'd catch her when she flung herself the remaining foot into his arms. "What did I tell you?"

"I didn't know grandad fancied himself a cradle robber." You'd heard enough complaints to know the dig at Roy was from Jamie Tartt, the season loan from Manchester City. "Surely, someone like you isn't married to someone like Roy."

The twinge of disgust that slipped from the mans mouth when he said Roy's name had your blood boiling. "Why? Would you rather me with the likes of you instead?"

Jamie stood in dumbfounded silence as you turned back to Roy, your face entirely brightening, and his presence being totally ignored for the rest of your stay in the lock room. He wasn't used to that. He was trying to compliment you, say you were way out of Roy's league - maybe even ask for your number - but you didn't even spare him a second glance. In fact, now that your eyes were back on him, he wasn't entirely sure you were ever going to look away from Roy again. It made sense when he thought about it in bed later that night, even though he teased the fuck out of Roy and sometimes plainly treated him like shit, Roy Kent was one of the greats. Even Jamie Tartt knew that, and had known it since he was 6 years old - of course he'd managed to score someone like you.

Murmurs of Roy Kent having a secret spouse and daughter had filled Nelson Road before you'd even left the building.

It wasn't that Roy didn't want to talk about you. If he had the opportunity, he'd scream about you from rooftops, but being a footballer was a very public affair and he loved his privacy. Almost as much as he loved you.

The dog track didn't think they'd ever see your face again, not when Roy had growled at them after he'd guided you and Phoebe out of the changing room. Unfortunately for them, they would, under the worst possible circumstances.

You'd been on the edge of your seat the whole match. Roy's been benched for the first time in what you're sure is his entire career and doesn't come on until the 60th minute and when he does, you swear he's on fire. He's playing better then he'd ever played before, running faster then he's ever ran in the past few years, and he's slide tackling Jamie Tartt and getting the ball away from the goal. People are screaming his name and so are you.

And then he's not getting up.

And then he's still not getting up.

And then he's still not getting up, the cheers have died down, and everyone's waiting with baited breath while it's determined if they've just seen the end of Roy Kent's 30 year long career with their own eyes.

And then Roy gets up, and for a fleeting moment you think that maybe everything's okay, that Roy's okay, and he's going to carry on playing.

And then he's walking from the pitch, limping, and your sprinting from your seat in the family box and running up to the owners box. You don't have to say a word because Rebecca calls a member of security over to you, and asks with a kind smile for him to guide you down to the changing rooms.

You linger outside the door for about 5 seconds before you push it open. If you were anyone else, you'd were certain he would've yelled at you to get out, even though he didn't mean it, just for the sake of his image. But you weren't anyone else, you were you.

"I'm fine." You hadn't even made it fully into the room and Roy was already trying to make his pain seem less bad then it was. "I'm fine. Go watch the rest of the match. You might have to drive us back to yours though."

"Roy." He doesn't say anything as you cross the room and sit beside him on the bench. You slowly wrap your arm around his shoulders and tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling his head down to rest against your shoulder. "Don't. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, yeah? You're important to me, let me be here for you."

Roy kisses you and you instantly realise you'd have waited 33 more years for it, if that meant it would happen.

His lips are chapped, and his beard is slightly scratchy, and he's already breathless before he even leans into it but you don't mind. You find that his lips slant against yours perfectly and he slides you closer against him on the bench, using the hand he'd placed on your hip to give it a squeeze, eliciting an gasp from you. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth but he pulls away before it can escalate.

You hope to anything listening that he wants to kiss you again, because you're sure he's ruined the touch of everyone else's lips against your skin for you.

"I've been in love with you since I was 5 years old." Roy pressed his lips back to yours in a quick succession of kisses and you're sure that thats a good sign.

"Since you were 5 years old?" He asks, nudging his nose against yours, pressing his lips firmly to yours when they brush slightly as he speaks. "Fuck, did we waste a lot of time."

~*~

Roy's been the manager of Richmond for the last 4 months and you're thankful that there's no football on over Christmas. You get Roy practically all to yourself for three weeks and it's the best feeling ever.

Phoebes still in school until the 22nd, and you live together at Roy's house, so there's no chance Molly will walk in on the two of you or his mum will hear you through the walls - meaning 90% of his first week off work is spent having sex on every surface in the house, in every position imaginable.

The second week off is the main bulk of Christmas. You pick Phoebe up from school on the 22nd and she has a sleep over at your house. The 23rd is spent curled up on your couch, with Phoebe sandwiched between the two of you, watching Christmas movies all day and stuffing your faces with popcorn and hot chocolate. Phoebe spends the night again, and then the three of you drive down to Ms Kent's house at lunchtime on the 24th. Molly comes home from work around 6pm and the 5 of spend the rest of the evening in the living room, watching 'love actually' and 'the polar express,' until it's time for bed. Even though you and Roy have been together for nearly 3 years now, you sleep in Molly's bed with her and Phoebe, reminiscing on the christmas's of your childhood and giggling over them until you fall asleep.

When christmas morning finally comes, you and Molly are the last awake, Phoebe jumping all over the two of you and demanding you get downstairs as soon as possible to see what Father Christmas has left for her. You let Phoebe drag you down stairs even though you're barely awake and you crawl into Roy's lap, in his grandads armchair, at the first opportunity. He's already got a coffee made for you, just the way you like it, and a warm hand that he slips up the back of your tshirt to scratch gently against your skin as you watch Phoebe begin to open her mountain of presents.

"How many of these are from you?" You whisper, feeling Roy smile against your temple as you sip on your coffee, slowly waking up in his arms.

"Enough. They're not all for Pheeb's anyway." Roy picks you up enough to adjust your position in his lap, making it more comfortable for the both of you to sit and talk and watch presents getting opened. "Some for my mum, some for Molly, some for you."

"You're too kind to me, baby." You lean up enough to press a kiss to Roy's lips, ignoring the loud screech Phoebe lets out at the display of affection. "I got some stuff for you under there too, handsome."

"I don't see you under that tree, Father Christmas clearly mustn't have got my list." Even though you're not looking directly at Roy you can feel the smirk that is pulling at his lips.

Before you could comment on what that could possibly mean Phoebe was calling your name, sticking her hand out with a tiny, paper-wrapped box in her palm. "This one's for you, it says it's from uncle Roy!"

"For me, huh? Lets have a look then, shall we Pheeb's?" Phoebe abandoned her half opened pile of gifts to stand beside you, leaning over the arm of the arm chair and over your shoulder to get a prime look at the gift as you opened it. "Thank you, baby."

Roy pinched your hip teasingly, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he intently watched you carefully unfold the wrapping paper. "Open it first, you might not like it. I kept the receipt so... just say the word and we'll get it changed."

"It's from you, Royo, I'm sure I'll love it." You punctuated your words with a kiss to his lips, not realising just how much your words would ring true until you'd fully unwrapped the box; finding a navy blue, velvet ring box and tears in Ms Kent's eyes. "Roy..."

"I spent 36 years of my life not knowing you felt the same way about me as I felt about you." Roy took the box gently from your hold and opened it, taking the dainty and elegant ring from it and holding it between the two of you. "And I don't plan to waste another moment of my life without you by my side."

"Yes."

"Oi, you're supposed to let me fucking ask you first." A laugh bubbled past your lips despite the tears building in your eyes. "Will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"

"Yes." Your hands found Roy's face before his could place the ring on your finger, pulling him into a hot and forceful kiss, tilting his head back with how much you leaned into it, into him. "Yes. Yes. Yes, please."

"You owe me £1, Uncle Roy."

Tears are shed and the rest of the gifts are opened. Christmas dinner goes by without a hitch, and before you know it the days nearly over and you find yourself in Roy's lap, in his grandads armchair, with one bowl of dessert between the two of you, like so many times before. Ms Kent is sat across from the two of you with her own bowl of dessert and she looks like she wants to say something about it. She doesn't, but only because she knows, and she knows that you and Roy know. This day was a long time coming and she's over the moon that it's come in her lifetime.

Roy's love for you was stronger then any will he had to remain stubborn, and after a life time of waiting, he'd finally found his way to you, and she was sure he would find his way to you in every lifetime; even if it took 100 years or breaking a curse. Like she'd told you on that cool September morning, the prince always comes back, and they always live happily ever after. And she was sure the two of you were going to as well.

an : if you made this this far I love you!!! I hope you enjoyed another super long Roy fic, feel free to leave some feedback or what your favourite part of the story was, or even a request from my summer sleepover prompts!! Mwah <333

[xq1zi]

look of love

gaara x reader

warnings: not proof read, english not first language, and no capitalization.

word count: 2.4k

A/N: gaara needs more love. also i recommend the song “strangers in the night” by frank sinatra. it describes this fic perfectly i think and it wasn’t even intentional lol. also this kinda dumb

when the chunin exams had begun you weren't there due to being away on a mission with your parents. and when you came back so much had happened such as sasuke leaving the village. naruto going to go train with master jiraiya.

you would be filled in once you came back and saddened that you didn't get a chance to say goodbye to nartuo. but wasn't the end of the world since what caught your interest was the three they called the “sand village siblings”.

and was told how scarry a guy called “gaara” was. sure when this was told to you all of it already happened so you had nothing to worry about but still left a bad taste in your tongue.

but nowadays its peace was made with the sand village so nothing goes on with them anymore you gradually forgot about them. then you were told to go assist team 10 going to save the current kazekage.

after the cheering and sad moment for lady chiyo, he had gotten up to go back home. but he had looked around for a second to see who had come. then your eyes met.

it could be because he's never seen you. or simply you caught his eye for some reason. but for that moment it felt like staring into a person you've known for years. comfort. but it ended as quickly as it started.

then everyone went back to the village and naruto suggested that they should go out to eat. so many went to a restaurant to celebrate the fact that gaara is alive.

the restaurant had a second level balcony and you went out to get fresh air for a little while. then the door slides open. “oh, i didn't realize someone was already here.” a quiet voice says.

“oh no, don't stop because of me here.” you invited gaara to come out with you.

“i don't think we've met before. i was certain i had met everyone of naruto friends by now” he spoke again. “i was on a mission when you first came to leaf village so i didn't have a chance to meet you. im [name] nice to meet you.” your eyes couldnt leave his.

“same to you. gaara but i'm sure you knew that by now…” silent grew but looking into each other's eyes you didn't even notice it one bit.

but subconsciously without thinking, you blurted out the one thing that should've been kept inside. “you look so beautiful..,” quickly slapping your hand over your face and turning away from him.

when you saw him like this your cheeks reddeden even more but this time from the way he looks so cute in this moment. but as it was his power to interpret, nartuo came in looking for gaara. “GAARA THERE YOU ARE HERE COME DOWN- huh what are you guys doing here”

“nothing naruto, just getting to know one another since this is my first time meeting” you said back to him.” “oh okay!,” he gave his big smile “GAARA LET'S GO COME ON” he screamed even more, “very well, nice to meet you, hope we meet again.” he looked at you, seemingly not wanting to go. “yeah..same” both of you stand there before naruto starts yelling again.

a few days passed and you can't stop thinking about the feeling you got with gaara. then as it seems like luck was on your side you were given an assessment to go and give documents to the sand village. after three days of travel you arrived at the sand village. you were at the kazekage doors.

after you knock you hear his voice. “come in.” you opened the door and he looks at you with surprise. “ive came to drop off some reports from what..well you know happened.” you said a bit shyly.

“ah, yes t-thank you.” hes a bit red. “w-well ill be going now.” you said. “w-wait! well arent you tired? y-you should sleep before going,” gaara said without thinking.

not sure of what he was doing he continued on. “you can sleep within my residence, as a guest of the kazekage. rest for a while.” he was still timid but calmed down.

“you sure? i wouldn’t want to be bothersome.” everything seems like it’s coming to place. “you wouldn't, i can assure.” he replied.

“well i guess a quick power nap wouldn’t hurt,” you didn’t sleep that well and you could use a hot shower. “okay i’ll take you up on that offer.”

“good here, follow me.” he said. you two walked for a bit and got to the entrance of his home. then we walked over to a room.

it was nice and tidy. “take my room. my bed is more comfortable than the one in the guest bedroom.” don’t know why he brought you to his own room. but he felt so comfortable with you that he didn’t mind it.

“oh thank you so much.” you said in a genuine tone. “yes, no problem, have a nice nap.” he smiled at you then left to go back to his duties. once his presence left the room you quickly felt your heart racing. why was he making you feel this way? surely it can’t just be you feeling this away.

and you would come to the right conclusion because little to your knowledge he also felt his heart beating in a way he can’t explain.

you changed into some sleeping clothes you packed just in case. and slept for a while. but unfortunately the thing that woke you up was gaara coming into the room thinking you’ve already gone home. since it was only going to be a “quick nap”.

“forgive me i thought you would’ve gone home by now.” he said, very sorry for coming in while you slept. “huh?! NO DID I OVERSLEEP…” you shouted just a bit. “seems as though you did.” he said back. “awe man, wasted a whole day. i have to start leaving now.” you said while getting up from the bed and remaking it.

“i’m assuming you haven’t had dinner yet. it’s not good to go on an empty stomach.” gaara had a point there. “do you have anything in mind?” you said. “i can show you a good restaurant if you want,” he suggested. “i haven’t had dinner yet either”

“okay sure let me get ready and i’ll meet you outside” you replied and started to get dressed once he left. after being done you went down and met with him. and walked to the restaurant together. the two of you sat down and ordered.

“thank you so much for letting me sleep. saved me money and sleep deprivation!” he chuckled at the statement. “yes, no problem just wanting to return the favor to the leaf after coming to my aid” conversation was going smoothly. two of you ate and talked like you’ve grown together over the years.

then finally this moment came to a close and two of you stood outside the restaurant. smiles both placed on each other's faces. then when you started saying goodbye you said something.

“hey! gaara…don’t you feel like we’ve known each other for years. for some reason i’m so comfortable with you.” you said in a soft tone.

“well, yes i do feel like that. i thought i was simply imagining it.” he gave you a soft answer.

“my heart is telling me to keep seeing you or at least keep in touch…hope that doesn’t sound too crazy if you know what i mean.” you chuckled.

“no,not at all, i wouldn't mind. we can exchange letters until we meet again.”

“oh that 's so great! bye gaara!! you’ll get a letter from me once i arrive okay?!” you left giddy knowing that you took a risk and it paid off. faith is certainly doing its course.

over the past couple of months you and gaara exchanged letters. you would wait for his letter to come every time. of course many took notice now a certain type of bird will find you and hand you a letter. it would be rare that you two would meet but every time it was perfect.

“[name] spill we know you have a mystery man.” sakura said while ino stood next to her. “yeah we’ve been dying to know!!” ino went next.

cheeks red from the sudden accusation. you start to rebuttal them. “huh?! i don’t have a mystery man, what are you guys on about!” you wave your hand at them.

“lies! you receive letters from him and every time you read them your face smiles from ear to ear.” sakura shouting at you. this continues on for a bit after you reveal that it's been gaara you’ve been talking to. but nothing is going on.

“nothing going on my butt, you clearly have feelings for him!” ino said. “oh my it’s quite literally love at first sight!” sakura smiled. “sakura what are you on about?! It's nothing like that.” you defend yourself even though deep down you know it’s the truth.

“you can’t even hide it well. your eyes light up so much when you see his letter.” ino remarks. you don’t speak knowing it’s true. “you can’t even say anything because you know it’s true” sakura teased.

while you were enduring this torture, gaara seemily was also going through the same things.

“hey gaara i’ve been wondering who sends you so much letters.” kankuro said. “hey! i was just thinking the same thing!!” temari stated.

“oh, it’s nothing really. just a friend.” they both gave “ohhh”s. “who it’s it naruto? man is he surely consistent with them.” kankuro said. “well it’s a she so it’s not naruto” gaara corrected him. both of them were confused and shocked. “it's a girl?! who!?” temari interested in what her little brother is doing.

“she’s from the leaf. we met when they came to our rescue. for some reason we connected right away.” gaara said bluntly.

“are you serious? i wouldn’t take you for a person who would connect right away.” kankuro laughed. “well who is she? you haven’t answered that.” temari asked again.

“her name is [name].she wasn’t there when we took the chunin exams. so you didn’t get to meet her.” he answered. he gave a slight smile when talking about you.

“gaara do you like her as a friend or something more? you seem to light up as you talk above her.” temari teased him. “you should definitely ask her out if you do” kankuro joined in.

“it’s nothing like that.” gaara defended himself while a tint of pink appeared on his cheeks. this continued for a while seemingly with no end. but at the end of the day both of you came to the same conclusion. you both had a crush on each other.

when finally it came time for you two to see each other again. it was a bit awkward. “so gaara how have you been..?” you asked shyly while walking. “good, a bit tiring but nonetheless good.” he replied back.

“good, good, uhm gaara do you want to go somewhere? i know a really good place.” you said to him. “sure, lead the way.” he smiled at you.

while you led the way you too talked. with those quick silent moments where you two just look at each other with a deep understanding. just like falling in love.

“look gaara, how beautiful the view is!,” you said while looking over the beach as the sun goes down. and the waterfall falling into the water make a nice and calming sound that you can just fall asleep too.

“here!, come!! sit! look at this view gaara isn’t it great.” you said while being hypnotized by the view.

“yes. it is certainly beautiful.” gaara said but not looking at the view rather at you. the two of you sat there for a while listening to the waves and wind. you gave a sigh “gaara… i feel like i’ve known you for so long… i feel so safe around you.” you turned now looking into his eyes. drowning in them you lose yourself in them.

“i feel the same. not sure why but i want to stay close to you.” he turned red because he never felt so open like this before.

“me too…can i be honest gaara?,” he nodded so you continued. “i have feelings for you… when i first saw you i felt a sudden connection i know it sound silly-”

“it doesn’t. it’s not silly.” he interrupted you. “you sure?” you giggled. “i’m sure.” his smile was so bright.

“would you like to be with me?” he said. it was sudden even though you felt the same you were so shy to answer. “y-yes. i would!” you said while turned red. “good. thank you.” he pulled into a hug and kiss the top of your head.

after a couple of hours you two returned to his home. as it was closer. “so now that we are together…what do we do?” you asked.

“not sure what you mean.” he was confused. “i mean do you want to cuddle and sleep together?” you nervously laughed. “you can if you want.” he looked away with a slight blush. “you look cute, did i tell you that?” you giggled. he blushed even more.

you got ready for bed. his bed was large so certainly enough space for both of you two to have your own space. but you chose not too. embracing each other. and falling asleep as newley lovers. who seemingly fell in love at first sight.

did guys like it? i worked on it in class lol. i probably would make head canons for him or a part 2 if you guys want!!

[cod-dump]

The Guy to Know

pricenik

(also on ao3, word count 15509)

_____

John didn't always thinks things through, he was quick to let his impulses win. His captain said he was a handful, though John found joy in that, making the old man run in circles. He was a pain the ass but he was, undoubtfully, good at what he does. He had a bite to him that helped him survive. That's why he was on Captain MacMillan's team, why he was SAS.

Yes, he would consider himself hotheaded, running in head first without much forethought. It was something his captain would get onto him for, something his teammates rolled their eyes at because ‘That’s just like you’. 

He meets someone promising glory at the end of what should be a brief trip out of country? He can't refuse, but maybe he should've thought about it a little longer, he didn't know this woman. But, he was impulsive. That was John Price's specialty.

“I don’t like going in bare, Kate.” 

He knew Kate for a few months now. She was CIA, young and ambitious. Was sniffing around Liverpool for a week before she sat next to him during a football game. She knew him and John wasn’t fond of her knowing so much about him when he didn’t know an equal amount about her. 

He didn’t trust her but then she brought up his captain by name and he relaxed. Now he was starting to think he jumped into this strange friendship too quickly. He wasn’t sure how she convinced him to fly into Russia, no weapons, fake passports and ID’s, disguised as a couple on vacation. He knew Mac would probably be disappointed he got himself into this situation so quickly after he went on leave. 

“It’s a hassle to smuggle gear in, so we’re picking some up there.” 

“Picking some up? Going shopping?” 

Kate ignored his sarcastic tone, “I know a guy.” 

He scoffed, wondering how well she actually knew him. 

She rented a car and drove them from the airport and out of the city. He could die out here, like an idiot. Mac wouldn’t even know, he’ll come back from leave wondering where his idiot sergeant ran off to. 

They got to a small, small town and stopped by an auto shop. It was busy, full of men yelling in Russian. Quite a few of them had visible tattoos, a lot of them were smoking, and all of them eyed them like meat when they walked in. Kate wasn’t fazed, asking for a man named Nikolai. Those were the magic words because once that name was spoken, the door to the office in the back opened. 

John Price was a bold man. He argues with superiors like it was his job, his opinion was always known. Yet he clammed up the moment he saw the mountain of a man that was Nikolai. Kate told him she knew a guy but this wasn’t who he was expecting. 

Big, recently shaved head and face. He had a fresh, red scar on his shoulder that peaked from his collar. He was cautious yet walked like he couldn’t care less about where he was or who he was with. Kate whispered something to him, something in Russian that John couldn’t translate. He figured it was a passcode or something because the man visibly relaxed even more, grinning. 

“This your guy?” 

John swallowed, Kate eying him when he shifted on his feet. 

“Nikolai. This is the sergeant I was telling you about. John Price.” 

Nikolai stared at him, stared like he was reading his very soul. John felt like a child who knew they were seconds away from being scolded. But Nikolai didn’t scold or say anything that he was expecting. ‘I’m not impressed’ , ‘This is what I have to work with?’, ‘Don’t get in my way’ -- Nothing of the sort. He just nodded, as if satisfied, before he whistled a particular tune. 

Suddenly they were surrounded and John was ready to go on the defensive. But Kate grabbed his arm. 

“Don’t.” 

Two men approached Nikolai, carrying a trunk. They sat it at his feet and Nikolai took out a key that had been hidden in his shirt, hanging from what John had previously presumed to be a simple gold chain. Inside the trunk was weapons, ammo, a bag, and a couple body armor vests. 

“Bag has the intel you need to get in.” 

John blinked, keeping close to Kate as she moved to fetch the items from the trunk. 

“How much is she paying you?” 

Nikolai eyed him and Kate sighed, throwing a vest into his arms as an attempt to change the subject. But Nikolai was interested, smirking as he turned his body to face John. 

“Honestly? She’s not paying the full amount I would be asking. But! I like her.” 

John stares at Kate who honestly looks offended, “I will leave you here in the streets if you say anything.” 

Kate glares and John shuts up, Nikolai laughing gleefully. John shivering at the sound. Deep into enemy territory, dragged into a job by a woman he honestly didn’t know that well convinced him to help her with, and they’re being helped by a guy who’s doing it because he likes Kate. He was smelling disaster ahead of them. He didn’t trust this man, didn’t know what he had in on this and didn’t know much about him other than ‘Chimera’. 

A callsign? Organization? He saw nothing in the auto shop that could give him any clues and Kate wasn’t giving him much to go on besides ‘trust me’. 

“Pick up your gun, Price. We have a job to do.” 

John grabbed the weapon from the trunk, making eye contact with Nikolai. John turned away to focus on Kate and this job he got roped into, choosing to ignore the intense staring that Nikolai was directing solely on him. He was getting out of this country as soon as possible if Kate doesn’t get him killed. 

She had gotten them this far, so he had to trust that she would get them to the end. 

Kate didn’t just get gear from Nikolai, she had a vehicle that had more supplies waiting behind the auto shop. She had originally told him she had this planned for a while and that she just needed some muscle to help make things happen and he was honestly impressed. 

“We’re heading into enemy territory, now, John.” 

“Oh, we’re not in it now?” 

Kate glared at him while John smirked. She was fighting a smile, he could tell. If she gets them killed at least he managed to annoy her.

___

He honestly hadn’t expected that the Russian arms dealer would come in at the last possible moment to practically save the day. They were under heavy fire and John had lost his helmet ages ago. He was sure this was it, his last moments, until an armored van busted through a brick wall. 

The majority of their ops were crushed and the rest was quickly taken care of. And Nikolai, that bastard, opened a door with a grin and a cigarette between his lips. John was honestly frozen in place as Kate quickly ran over and jumped into the van, making sure to secure her intel before she yelled at John to get his ass in the van. 

He had to run and dive in the door that Nikolai had wide open as more ops showed up to the scene. He was clinging to the seat as he laid on the man’s lap, the van’s driver taking off the moment Nikolai grabbed his vest to secure him. John’s heart was pounding as he heard gun fire, Kate laying in the backseat as bullets nail the sides of the van. 

The driver sped along the tiny dirt road, Nikolai’s men shooting out the windows at their pursuers. John managed to get crawled into the seat between Nikolai and the driver, sitting up with a huff. Nikolai was grinning as he grabbed a gun from the glovebox, turning to John as he tried to steel himself. 

“We have ten minutes to get them off our tail so we can disappear smoothly, which is greatly preferred. Think you can manage that, sergeant?” 

John scoffed, grabbing the gun, “I’ll do it in five.” 

With that, he grabbed Nikolai’s cigarette and put it between his teeth, climbing into the backseat with Kate. She had a rifle loaded, ready to stick out the window. 

“Hey, need you to get that drive out of here or all of this was for nothing.” 

“I’m not helpless, John.” 

He uses that opportunity to trade guns, giving her the handheld as he took the rifle, “Didn’t say you were.” 

John climbs into the very back with Nikolai’s men. He was always a good shot and he was hoping that wouldn’t fail him now. 

The language barrier wasn’t enough to keep John from being able to communicate to one of the men of his plan. Maybe he had a vague understanding of English, enough to know to aim for the tires as soon as John swung one of the back doors open. 

“John!” 

Kate didn’t like the plan of him making the inside of the van open and vulnerable.  

“Whatever you’re doing make it quick!” 

John shot at the tires as Kate yelled at him, growling when it wasn’t slowing down their pursuers. He ducked when one of Nikolai’s men grabbed him and shoved him to the floor, roughly shoving a metal crate in front of them for cover. Then, John noticed something in the corner of the van, stuck in a vest. 

Jackpot.

“Grenade going out!” 

Pin out and a well place throw, the grenade launched onto the road and under the front vehicle -- 

BOOM! 

John watched the front vehicle launch into the air, flipping and crashing into the vehicle immediately behind it. He watched as the vehicles ram into one another while others swerved, running off the road and some ramming into trees. John laughed as did the men around him. Two grabbed the back doors and shut them, John slumping against the back set where Kate laid. 

“What’s the time?” 

Kate snorted, “4:55, bastard.” 

He heard Nikolai laugh out and John took that as his success.  

___

The safe house was deep in an old town, half of the buildings were run down and there were very few residents. John wondered if they were even civilians and not more of Nikolai's people. He seemed to have them everywhere. He had resources, a lot of them. John wondered where he had managed to get it all.

”Nikolai isn’t actually your name, is it?”

The man hummed, in disagreement or agreement? John wasn’t exactly sure. John took it as agreement.

”What is your real name?”

”Fae can’t just give their real name out like that, sergeant.”

John blinks and Nikolai snickers to himself. Oh, the man has jokes.

”If you must have a surname, Nikolai Chimera would do just fine.”

”Yea, I’m not doing that.”

Nikolai seemed to have a permanent, smug look on his face. One of near constant amusement.

“I have to know-” 

Nikolai was quick to interrupt with a smirk, “Have to? You seem to be alive and well without knowing.” 

John glared with no heat, “As I was saying...” 

He paused for a moment, waiting for another interruption but Nikolai said nothing, smiling as he sat there silently. John huffed, looking away to hide the smile attempting to take hold. 

“How’d you meet Kate?” 

“Ah, Kate? How did you meet her?” 

“She crawled into the seat behind me while I was watching a home game. Football, but she wasn’t there for sports. Knew my captain by name and reputation, wanted to see if I was willing to work with her when he wasn’t.” 

Nikolai hummed, “Similar story. She found me... enjoying a sport of my own. Brought up a sensitive name and with the promise of helping me and my ambitions. She’s kept her word so far so I’ll keep mine.” 

John wasn’t satisfied, Nikolai’s answer being far too vague. Maybe John was too open, too easy to read. Kate read him far too easily despite their brief relationship, Nikolai was either as sharp as her or John needed to learn to shut his trap. Mac always kept saying he liked to talk a bit too much, liked to be noisy. 

“Kate only knows my business because she dug deep. Want it from me then you’ll have to do the same or buy me dinner.” 

John felt his ears go hot, that had to be a joke. Nikolai has been full of them with a healthy dose of sarcasm. But he didn’t hear any sarcasm and it made him restless, the need to move making him stand quickly. He cleared his throat and stepped away, keeping his back to Nikolai. The Russian snickered, so it was a joke. He got the reaction he wanted and John bit his tongue to keep himself from saying anything that would reveal his embarrassment. 

He could hear Nikolai standing, moving past him to grab something. He didn't have to brush shoulders but chose to. John had to restrain a shudder as goosebumps lit up his shoulder and arm.

"One of mine is bringing food. Fresh and hot."

"Food?" John wanted to kick himself for the crack in his voice, clearing his throat as soon as he heard it.

“Да, Kate picked.” 

John nodded, unable to look at Nikolai as the man moved around the room calmly. He was unbothered, even seemed quite pleased with himself. 

"John-"

As soon as John heard Kate's voice he quickly left the room. He heard nothing from Nikolai about his obvious retreat. Kate was sitting in a plush chair that didn't fit the surrounding room. Sitting cross legged with a pad of paper on her lap, she was deciphering something, maybe a code from a contact, he didn't bother asking or taking a closer look as he sat on the couch adjacent from her.

"You came in here quickly..."

"You need- You called so-"

Kate eyed him before she bit her lip to stop a laugh. His face felt like it was on fire and Kate was very happy about it.

"Thought I was picking something up about you."

Price glared, "I'm tired, I'm hungry, this place is cold, and I'll have to have a good long chat with Mac when this shit is over."

Kate hummed, still smirking. He turned from her, not finding her teasing easily digestible with Nikolai's comment from a mere few minutes ago. 

"I'll come back to that on a later date."

John grunts and decides to look back at her, "What's that?"

"Crossword."

John blinked and leaned over before he groaned. He flopped over the length of the sofa, exhausted. Kate snorted as she took her time reading over her puzzle while relaxed, unlike him.

"MacMillan has high praise for you, didn't expect you to be... this when I met you at that game in Liverpool."

"First off; you stalked and cornered me while I was enjoying an excellent hot dog with some chips. Secondly; Wait until I get my harmonica then you'll see exactly who that Scottish cunt has been dealing with."

Kate let's out a laugh, "God, I thought that was a joke."

"I love a good tune and this fucking place hasn't had shit."

"Wow-"

John was almost completely fused with the sofa, allowing himself to close his eyes. He could hear Kate giggling and he found himself finally relaxing. He was still on foreign turf, starving, a slight chill that was becoming irritating, and he was desperate for at least ten minutes of shut eye.

John opens his eyes when he hears what is now the very familiar sound of Nikolai's boots, walking into the room. John turned his head when he noticed the man standing behind the back of the couch, he didn't want to risk making eye contact. Kate saw this and grinned. He was giving her fuel and he had only himself to blame.

"Food has arrived."

John focuses on Kate, trying to keep his sanity in check, "What you order?"

"Pizza."

"Kate..."

"With olives."

"Kate-"

Nikolai chuckles, "There's more than one kind."

"Thank you."

John sat up, he could feel that Nik was standing behind him and it just sent a chill down his spine. Kate unfolded her legs, setting her pad of paper on the arm before she stood.

"I'm eating a whole pie. The rest of you have to share."

John snorts, "You can keep it. It's already been tainted."

"I'm putting olives in your birthday cake."

John gags, "And that's why you're not invited."

Kate walks past, grinning. There was a moment of silence before Nikolai spoke, "You don't like olives?"

It was a simple comment, John looking over his shoulder at the man, "I don't hate them but I could live happily without them."

Nikolai stared at him and John had to fight to not look away. Finally, he steps away back into the other room.

"Noted."

John blinked before the smell of pizza coaxed him into standing and joining the others.

___

John slept easier than expected. He got out with bruises and a sore ankle and honestly that's the best he's ever left with. Kate had her intel and now they were prepping to head back to the UK, there Kate would get a ride back home to the States and John would have a little meeting with Captain MacMillan. He wasn't looking forward to it.

"Maybe if I walk in speaking Russian, he'll be so shocked that he'll be nice."

Kate rolls his eyes, "With what we gained he'll have no choice but to be nice. Intel on the Russian Ultranationalists, plus a new friend... if you choose not to leave that in Russia."

John bristled, Kate watching him. 

"The fuck are you on?"

Kate sighs, "Are you that dense?"

John glares and Kate scoffs, looking away. John wasn't sure what she was on, not fully. He had a feeling he knew but he wasn't willing to speak it into existence. So far the obvious wasn't stated and John could live his life without it. Though Kate didn't seem willing to leave it be.

"I know enough on Nikolai to know he won't be offended. He's a pretty open-minded man."

John stands and Kate tenses for a second. He says nothing, again not wanting it to be said but it was heading there. Kate remained where she sat, keeping her composure. He felt his heart pound, head swimming as he stared at her. This topic was never a easy one to have, especially not with someone he had know for only little over a month. Was it bait? Was she trying to get him to admit something that he won't be able to take back?

”He won’t take offense if he were to learn you had a cr-“

"We're not close enough to have any discussions like that. Clear?"

Kate looks him up and down, a quick thought cross her mind before she nods, "Crystal."

___

"You're goin' off on your own now, huh?"

John was around the same height as the captain, but the man had bulk over him. He was intimidating, especially when annoyed or, god forbid, angry. John took a lot from him, mimicking a lot of things that made Captain MacMillan the cunt he was.

"With the example you set?"

The man lets out a short laugh, not showing much amusement in his expression. John flicks his eyes away, trying to look anywhere but his captain. The man just stared, like he was trying to set him on fire.

"I was working with the CIA, like I told you. It wasn't like I was fucking around for my own amusement."

"Hm... CIA? Don't remember ever giving you clearance..."

"She approached me."

Mac huffs, "Did she?"

This wasn't getting him anywhere so John tried to shift the subject, "I have a contact."

It worked because Mac leaned over his desk, "A contact?"

"Russian arms dealer. His name's Nikolai, runs an outfit called Chimera."

The face Mac made showed that John had an in back to his good side.

"Chimera? They've been opposing the ultranationalists. Intercepting convoys and taking that cargo for themselves. They sell it to clients, too," John hums, trying to keep his composure, "You have contact with that Nikolai?"

John nodded and Mac laughed, "God, I was gone for a month-"

”I can get shit done without your constant hovering, old man.”

Mac snorts, “Got a way to contact him?”

John spoke without thinking, “Yes.”

”Oh? Well, I’d like to have a word with him, seeing as he likes to fuck with the people who make my job literal hell.”

John nods and Mac goes to speak but John interrupts with raising his hand, standing as he does.

”… Jonathan, do you actually-?”

”Yes.”

Mac just watched in confusion as John backed out of the room. Maybe he watched out of amusement, wanting to see how deep of a hole John could dig himself. John didn't look back, trying not to run down the hall. Sikes passed him, stopping when he didn't say a word to him.

"Where are you running off to?"

John doesn't reply and disappears around the corner. He hopes that Mac won't say anything, save him the embarrassment, but he wasn't that nice. John would prefer to be off base by then. Maybe running off again wasn't the smartest thing but while Mac tended to be an ass, he had a soft spot for him, and John planned to take full advantage of that.

If the old man wants to meet Nikolai, then John is going to get him that meeting. He just... needs to make a phone call and apologize to Kate. They didn't leave on a good note and John hasn't stopped thinking about it. She didn't come off as that kind of person, someone who would hold personal information like that over her teammates, but she's CIA and frankly, John isn't sure about her.

Still, he gets to a payphone and dials the number Kate left him with despite the sourness in the air.

"Yes, I would like to speak to an Agent Kate Laswell... Sergeant John Price, SAS."

Those few minutes when he was on hold was excruciatingly long. He counted two and a half but it felt like thirty. The line clicked and he heard Kate take a breath before speaking.

"John?"

"Hey, Kate! Uh... how are you?"

He wanted to bash his head against the wall but he strained himself, didn't need to add another quirk to the growing list.

"I'm well... How'd things go with the cap? Is he mad? I have that intel already submitted, I can have someone give him a call and send him a record to get him off your ass if needed."

She sounded genuine in her offer and it made John feel more like shit.

"You could just send a record in the mail... Hey, okay, I was an ass last time we spoke and I feel like shit for it. Can I buy you a drink as an apology?"

Kate was quiet for a few seconds and John held his breath the entire time, "Yea... a drink would be nice. Not as a date, though... right?"

"What? Of course not! You're too mean."

She laughs and John's heart didn't ache so much with guilt.

___

"Okay okay- Wait, you don't get Nikolai's contact info. For whatever weird reason you have, and then you tell your captain you do... then you run off after he says he wants to meet him?"

John sighs, taking a swig of his beer. Meeting in a pub felt appropriate. They were in Manchester since John didn't want to go back to Liverpool to have a drink with a foreign woman in his home town. He didn't want to hear anything from his family about anything he had going on in his life, work related or not... not that they would know it was work related.

"I am... an impulsive individual."

"Wow, big words there."

John glares and Laswell sips her whisky with a smirk. He did like her, she wasn't afraid to say her mind but also not too much. People were either too nice or too blunt, not enough had the right amount of either.

"Look, maybe I was nervous about being able to contact Mr. Chimera whenever."

"Well, Mr. Chimera doesn't just give out info like that, John. He trusted you to have it."

John nods, staring at the chips he ordered, now a bit cold and hard. He still grabs one and takes a bite, glaring at the tray. He felt like a fool, letting old wounds hurt the way they did.

"I really am sorry for how I acted."

"I was pushing it. You were right, we don't know each other well enough to have personal conversations like that."

"I didn't exactly have a emotionally safe upbringing. That has never been a safe topic, Kate."

"I understand that. I really do."

They drank in silence, John munching on his cold chips. Kate finished her glass, sighing for a moment at the last drop. The silence was a bit awkward but therapeutic in a way, there was an understanding there that was a bit overwhelming but it was needed. John did want to get to know Kate, trust her enough to have a conversation like that. A conversation he's never dared to have with anyone.

"So... you want Nikolai's contact info."

"For my capt'n, really."

"Sure... Look, as far as he knows, you rejected his info. It will stir things up if an unknown individual, or someone claiming to be someone he worked with, contacting him about wanting to meet up."

"Who will trust that?"

"Exactly. So, you're going to have to go to Russia with me and you're going to serenade that man into getting him to help you out."

John snorts, "What, want me to bring a guitar?"

"Learn some Russian, too, it'll convince him to be nice after that rejection."

John snorts, face warm but he couldn't tell if it was from the beer or the implications of their conversation. It easily could sound like they were having a very different conversation. It also made John tense, someone could overhear and make that mistake. He wasn't willing to get into another fight over that.

"Let's get some air."

"Alright, I'll call a taxi to meet us. Does your captain even know where you went?"

"No."

"You really need to tell that man where you're going."

"He'll live. It's not like he's my father."

"No, he's only the man who got you a job, put a roof over your head and food on your table."

"Fine, I'll send him a postcard when we get to St. Petersburg."

Kate snorts before she stands to go make a call. John finishes he beer before he gets up, anxiety tightening his chest, not giving him a moment's rest from the guilt he had before.

___

"They moved shop."

"Of course, they play a dangerous game. Can't stay idle."

John still felt exposed even though they weren't here to steal intel. He was nervous and the chill in the air wasn't helping him keep his composure. They had gotten a hotel room, Kate leaving to drop a letter off. She was informed the first time where Chimera would be, this time they had to wait for Chimera to find them.

He was sitting on one of the beds, tapping his foot. He nabbed a postcard from the hotel's gift shop, deciding to writing a smart remark on it for Mac. He snickered to himself, he could only imagine the look on the man's face when he received this in the mail. Well, there was a chance it'll get to him before John came back. He hoped that was the case.

Kate reentered the room, huffing as she closed the door.

"Winter's coming, you can feel it."

"Lovely."

Kate takes off her jacket and throws it on a chair by the kitchenette before she flops onto the other bed.

"So, thought about what you're going to say to him?" John tenses and Kate rolls her eyes, "No plan? Again?"

"I'm thinking."

"Barely."

John glares and Kate gives him a quick, over exaggerated smile before she buries her face in a pillow. He huffs before laying the postcard on the night stand, laying back onto the bed to stare at the ceiling. What should he say to Nikolai? He didn't think about the benefit of having a man like him as a friend? That his captain wanted his contact? That John lied about already having Nikolai as a contact?

That he panicked when Nikolai offered to keep in touch and backed out without thinking? He was embarrassed, which was a feeling he was becoming rather accustomed to by this point. He was going to feel it even more when - if he got to meet Nikolai again. Looking him in the eye to apologize? He could imagine a thousand ways it could blowup in his face. He could even risk Kate's relationship with the man.

He had to think of a damn good apology or he'll make a fool out of both of them.

"Get some shut eye, John, I can hear you thinking from here. Nikolai's men check drop off points every few hours, we have time for a nap."

John nods even though he knows Kate wasn't looking. He kicks off his shoes and climbs further onto the bed, a nap didn't sound too bad. Maybe his head will be clearer afterwards, allowing him to think of what he was going to say if Nikolai allows them to meet. John somehow allows himself to drift off, hoping for a little rest.

There was a knock that caused John to wake, jumping up to an alert position. Kate was up just as fast, both of them sharing a look before Kate got off her bed and eased over to the door. She peered out of the peephole and after she knocks on the door in a pattern, another pattern is returned. Only when she relaxes does John, getting off his bed to out his shoes back on.

Kate opened the door and a man that John didn't recognize walked in, he was definitely Chimera.

"Agent, good to see you. Sergeant."

He spoke English well enough that John was sure he would've remembered interacting with him before. The man looked at John and back to Kate.

"He's surprised, I will not lie."

"Is he willing to meet?"

"He is. Neutral ground, I will take you."

John licked his lips, "Where is this neutral ground?"

The man looked at him and gave a small smile, "You'll see."

___

John felt underdressed, that wasn't an understatement. Kate felt it, too, judging by the way she adjusted her top. The restaurant was fancy, the atmosphere stirred some memories as they walked through. Their guide, Kamarov, didn't bother to warn them about the dress code. He himself wore a black dress shirt and pants, sleeves rolled up to show he tattooed forearms. John wondered if them not being told was on purpose, either by Nikolai's orders or Kamarov's own amusement.

They climbed some stairs to the second story, overseeing the main dining room. A host stopped them, Kamarov muttering a few words and then they were allowed into what was a private dining area. John saw Nikolai's men around the area, some people that didn't look like his people, maybe clientele or his own contacts. Nikolai, himself, was in a booth. John felt his mouth go dry with how the man was dressed and he was dressed very nicely.

He didn't look like a lowlife thug now, more like a proper business man. A man who's business was weapons. 

He noticed them and smiled, waving his hand to the booth in front of him.

"Kate, please sit. And you-" John stiffened, Nikolai's voice lowering, "-you can sit next to me."

Kate fought to keep her face neutral, sliding into the booth in front Nikolai. John stood there for a second, Nikolai sliding over to allow him space, arm stretched over the seat's back. Kate was biting her cheek, staring at him. Any plan John had put together on the drive over practically fizzled into nothing as he sat beside Nikolai, trying to make himself as small as possible. He could feel the man's body heat and it lit goosebumps up his side. If he made it out of this alive Kate was never going to let this go.

"So, sergeant, I was informed we're here because of you. That you wanted to meet."

The deep rumble of Nikolai's voice was hitting every nerve John had, he couldn't think with this close proximity.

"Yes, he wanted to talk."

Nikolai looked to Kate fondly, "Go order yourself something nice to eat. Or drink! Bar over there has practically anything you can think of. All of it on the house."

John looked at Kate pleadingly but she showed no mercy. John watched her leave eagerly, all but skipping to the bar. He couldn't blame her, free food and liquor? He, too, would be off to take advantage of that if he didn't feel magnetized where he sat. He blamed it on Nikolai's... everything.

"Ah, now. You wanted to talk, да?"

John nodded and Nikolai chuckled, "I don't bite. Ha, I almost don't recognize you. The man who stole my cigarette and threw a grenade onto a busy road to save our tail. Busted into a private government facility and stole valuable data."

He took his time taking out a cigarette as he spoke, John watching out of the corner of his eye. He brought it to his lips and John looked away. He looked around, at the decor, the chandelier of crystal that hung over the main dining room. The food and drinks here were undeniable expensive.

"When you asked me to buy you dinner, you could've picked a cheaper place. My pockets aren't exactly deep."

Nikolai laughed John flushing. He leaned over, smoke on his breath and his cologne, mixing into a scent that John couldn't stop breathing in.

"You're right, when you're buying you're picking. Tonight is my treat."

John wanted to die. The silence was sickening and John knew he had to fess up why he was there.

"I may have rejected your offer too quickly..."

Nikolai looks at him, expression unreadable.

"You wanted my contact?"

"Yes."

"Yet you said no."

He panicked, that was the truth. And he couldn't even think of the man's possible reaction to telling him that. He needed to find a way to regain control, he was making a fool of himself at the moment. John looked to the cigarette trapped between the man's lips and, without further thinking, he plucked it away and placed it between his own.

Nikolai's eyes widened and John felt control weigh in his favor.

"I changed my mind. Think I have use for you."

Nikolai stared at him hard as John took a long drag, he could practically see the gears turning. For once, the man was speechless. And the best part? The man turned away to clear his throat, hiding his face long enough for John to no longer feel out of his element. It wasn't the setting, it was Nikolai. The man made him feel out of the loop, and now he finally felt like he had something over him.

Nikolai finally turns back to him, snickering, "Oh, I can tell that we're going to be good friends."

"If you stay useful, we can be the best of friends."

Nikolai grinned wider and John knew he had it. Victory. Kate won't believe him.

"You said food and drinks were on the house? Well, excuse me while I go eat myself into a coma."

John took the cigarette from his lips and handed it back to Nikolai, the man numbly taking it while watching him as if he was almost hypnotized. John quickly left the booth before he ruined anything and calmly made his way to Kate. She, surprisingly, hadn't been watching them the entire time. Instead she was nursing what had to be a glass a wine worth more than John's flat with a bowl of pasta.

"John, I'm taking a box home."

"Do they even have boxes here?"

"I'll take a pot then."

John snorts and sits next to her.

___

"You're taking him to meet your captain now, right? Already? Wow, that's a big step."

John turned to Kate who immediately busted into laughter, clearly she thought she was hilarious. John glares, pointing his fork at her to show that he was serious.

"I need to rope him in while he's still impressed by me. Plus, I need to cool Mac's engine before he bursts into flames."

"Right, because you lied about-"

"I have it," John hissed, "And now I'm going to use it."

Kate hummed, sipping her fancy wine. She was on her second bowl of pasta and John was thinking of getting another order of lamb. The food, admittedly, was delicious and the portions weren't outrageous, but they certainly weren't enough for the two of them.

"Ya know he's been staring at you, right?"

John didn't need to look to believe her, he could feel Nikolai's gaze upon his back. He had half expected the man to eventually join them but he had remained in his booth, now with his man Kamarov sitting across from them. He was trying to talk business but he wasn't looking like he was, he was watching so intently. John almost wanted to turn around and look right at him, wondering if Nikolai would try to look like he wasn't staring.

Kate turned in her seat, appearing as though she was going to look behind her. And just like that Nikolai looked away. He was staring but he didn't want to be caught. Man had to know he wasn't being subtle.

"John, I think he likes you."

"He does, he told me himself."

She grins, "Really? Then why are you over here and not talking him up?"

John swallowed hard, the way she said that made him pause.

"Can't show too much interest..."

"John..."

"He's intimidating, okay?"

She snorts and John knows she had enough wine for the evening. She leans over and rests her head on his shoulder, making him decide they should wrap this up.

"It's for work, Kate. Get you a takeaway box, we need to call it a night."

Kate whines but makes no further protest, finishing her latest and last glass of wine. John stands and walks over to Nikolai, the man almost sitting up straighter as he approached. John looked to Kamarov who blinked, quietly looking to Nikolai before he dismissed himself and left the booth. John sat across from Nikolai once the man was, the two staring at each other for a moment before speaking.

"Think I need to leave this get together. Got a postcard that needs sent to the UK."

Nikolai leans forward, "Leaving so soon? And we didn't get to have much quality time."

John represses a shudder as Nikolai folds his arms over the table. He felt like Nikolai was trying to regain lead of the situation, and John felt he had to fight to keep it. He leans back against the seat, keeping eye contact with Nikolai as he did.

"Quality time? Have to earn that."

Nikolai grins, he liked John talking back, "By being useful? I can be very useful."

I want to launch into the fucking sun.

"I can give you a tip on how to do that; Meet with my captain. Make friends with him and we can have some more quality time."

Nikolai looked him up and down, he looked mad with glee.

"I'll give you my number. I'll be wherever you want me to be."

"Good, already being useful."

Nikolai offered a card and John took it. He debated on nagging for a cigarette but he didn't want to push his luck. So he left with the card, going to collect Laswell and her box of pasta before they left the private dining area.

"Ya know, John. I don't know how you still feel about me but... that looked like flirting to me."

John felt his face get hot, "You're drunk."

Kate smiled, it was gentle, "Sure."

___

Kate was supposed to head out on another flight but she chose to stick around for a week. Why? She wouldn't directly tell him, just danced around the question with partial truths. John knew she stayed to hear whatever drama was going to happen with Mac. They had purposely delayed returning to the UK, giving enough time for John's express shipped postcard to land on Mac's desk.

She acted like she had nowhere else better to be, which left John wondering if whatever mess he had gotten himself into was really that entertaining.

"I would ask how you know where I live but I'd waste my breath."

"You're always wasting your breath."

They had bonded, he will say that. He liked Kate. She was funny, smart, and seemed to know how he thought like it was her own mind. Maybe he was just being dumb and too easy to read, maybe they were a lot alike. Either way, John was starting to consider an actual friend, someone he could trust. Well, he was hoping he could trust her. It never hurt to have genuine friends in this line of work.

They had went to John's flat after they landed, John planning on giving Mac a call to give the run down of everything (and to hear feedback about the postcard), and Kate decided to join him. She met Mac once, briefly, in an attempt to scope him out, which led to her going to John. Which led to the whole situation with Nikolai. To put it simply; Everything was her fault.

"Wow, that's a lot of records. And tapes."

"I like music."

"Maybe try to like organizing, too?"

"It's organized! I know where everything is and where it goes, unlike your untrained eye."

He had a system, Mac knew it and so did the rest of his team. It was messy in appearance but it worked. When John was able to get less heat from messes he took it. Maybe with age he'll go back to keeping things clean.

John had settled on his couch. It was old, pre-owned when he got it, but it has given him the best damn naps. He flopped down on the pillow he had left there from his last nap and sighed loudly. Kate snorted before she sat on the end that he wasn't occupying, relaxing against the couch and maybe, too, experiencing the magic the old thing possessed deep within its seams.

"When are you-"

"Sh sh- No work talk. Not yet," his voice was muffled by the pillow which made Kate laugh. She agreed silently, allowing him to lay there for several minutes before he decided to move.

Time to call Mac.

"I bet he's left voicemails. He always does."

"Ah, dads. They have such delightful things to say."

John mocked her under his breath, gaining a heatless glare. He climbed off the couch with great effort before he went to his landline. He had three messages, surprisingly. Two from Mac, and one from Sikes. Mac gave him the same talk about him running off, about him playing dangerous games. God, he really did sound like his father. Well, not his actual father, Mac was more caring.

Sikes just left a message about the postcard being a work of art. That's what John was looking forward to. After thoroughly enjoying Sikes' voicemail, John dialed Mac. He called his office phone specifically, for the added flair of his audacity.

"Sergeant Jonathan Price-"

"I come bearing gifts!"

"Like the postcard?"

"Better, even though that was fantastic work on my part."

Mac chuckles, if John didn't have stubborn residency in his soft spot then he would've been dead by now. Mac shifted on the other side, John hearing someone knock and Mac telling them to give him a minute. He better deliver his gift quick.

"Mr. Chimera is willing to meet."

"Mr. Chimera? Nikolai?"

"The very same."

Mac laughs, "You left to get his contact! And you succeeded!"

"I-"

"Don't lie. I know you, lad, better than anyone."

John looks to Kate who was still on his couch, relaxed and combating jetlag, "Keep telling yourself that. Wanna meet him or not?"

"If you can get that myth into the SAS's backyard then you're getting a raise."

"Promise? I have a witness of it!"

"Don't push it."

"Fine fine- When and where? Up to you, old man."

Kate looked over, thoroughly amused. John grinned at her and she snickered.

"Meeting the parents," She said, just loud enough for him to hear. John made a famously rude gesture towards her, earning another laugh.

John felt proud. His second contact, Kate being his first. He could foresee some chaos, enjoyable chaos and grand victories. Hopefully Mac could see it, too.

___

He was watching the clock obsessively, he knew this. Nikolai had sent him a email stating when he would be arriving and at what airport. John had sent a reply confirming he got the email and that was that. Silence.

He didn't like the silence.

"A watched pot won't boil, John."

John waved Kate off at her comment, he had at least an hour before he had to leave. He wanted to meet Nikolai there. Mac had tried to get him to use their airfield but Nikolai refused. John wondered why, wondered if Nikolai had doubts of meeting an SAS captain. He was pushing off the meeting by purposely using a civilian airline.

"He could've been here by now," John muttered under his breath, "I have to drive fucking thirty minutes to the airport and then twenty to the base."

Kate snorts, "That's my Sunday drive."

John glares at her and she just smiles. The last two hours she was waiting with him, wondering. And now all the sudden she's grinning like she knows something. John glared at her for this, hoping she would reveal what she knew to him without him having to ask or beg.

For once, that worked. Or Kate wanted to talk about it judging by how she eagerly pulled the chair out from the front of his desk and sat, leaning over the desk.

"He wants some extra time with you."

John blinked, staring at her before he blurted out "No he doesn't."

She laughs, "Yes he does! Why else would he pick an airport that you have to go out of your way to go to? Why else would he only tell you and not any one else on your team?"

John stared at her before he dropped his head to the desk. He can't keep doing this, racing after his own heart. He heard Kate laugh as he laid there, felt her pat the back of his head. She found his inability to be on the same page as his emotions hilarious. 

"That bastard."

"Guess he's getting his quality time."

John sat up, "Bastard."

She snorts, "You have to keep playing his game to win, John. Can't just play for a moment then revert back to this."

She motions to him, John huffing. She was right, he had to keep playing Nikolai's game and not back out. John stares at Kate and she stops giggling, blinking when his own grin forms.

"Hey, Kate-"

"Nope! Not getting in the middle of whatever this is."

"You have been involved day one. You can't back out."

Kate groans but John could tell she was amused by it all. She was going to help him win this game, make Nikolai squirm and play harder.

"Fine! But I'm taking a personal car."

"... whose car?"

"... Know where your captain keeps his keys?"

Oh this was becoming more fun by the second. Clearly she wanted to see how far he was willing to go for this and John aimed to impress.

"Wait out front."

"Oh you're insane."

Kate turned to leave, and before she reached the door John had an wonderful idea. He dug in a door in his desk, finding exactly what he wanted within seconds.

"Wait! One more thing."

Kate turned and rolled her eyes at the sight, "John no-"

John held out the disposable camera urgently, "This is serious. I need you to take a picture of his face when he realizes that I'm not there."

"John-"

"I'm winning this game, Kate."

Kate grinned and took the camera, "Fine."

Oh he couldn't wait to get the film processed. But that would have to wait, he had car keys to steal and had to prepare to mediate a meeting between an SAS officer and an arms dealer. He was sure the captain would play nice. But Nikolai? He wasn't completely confident on that.

___

Mac was sitting across from him, staring at him with a cross of amusement, exhaustion, and a hint of nervousness. He was bouncing his knee, had been moments after they had settled in their seats. Sikes was just amused, humming as he wrote something down on his notepad. John had been checking the clock regularly, Kate should be back with Nikolai by now. He was sure she would've called if something came up, Mac's car had a phone.

"John."

John looked to Mac who was still staring at him. Has he blinked? John can't remember seeing him blink.

"Yes, sir?"

"Why's my car not in the lot?"

John blinked innocently, looking out the window behind him to the car lot, "What you mean? Didn't you park in the garage today?"

"John."

"Heard it was gonna rain."

"Jonathan-"

"Know you're touchy about that car and the rain."

Sikes was watching them with great joy and amusement. John knows their bickering was the highlight of his job.

Mac's face dropped with shock and anger as his precious car pulled into a spot, his spot, and Kate got out. No Nikolai, which made John anxious. He couldn't even focus on Mac getting pissed over the car, just that he didn't see Nikolai.

Did Nikolai not appreciate him not showing up to get him? Did something came up? No, Kate would've told him if as soon as there was an issue. Where was Nikolai, then?

"Sergeant, your friend's here."

John whips his head around, from window to Sikes' smirking face. The door opened and Nikolai walked in with Sergeant Banks, dressed much more casual than when he last saw him. He looked like a civilian, not an arms dealer, and John could tell Mac was thinking just that. But he couldn't get past the relief he felt when he saw Nikolai. He came, he didn't back out.

"Ah, Sergeant Price!" Nikolai greeted eagerly with a grin, that grin crushing any doubts John had remaining.

John stands as does Mac. He was trying to take in everything that was Nikolai. First impressions were big for him and Nikolai wasn't checking any boxes off just yet. But he will, John knew he would.

"Nikolai, have a good flight?"

John was aiming for generally politeness but Nikolai wasn't willing to behave, "Of course. Shame you weren't the one to get me. I was looking forward to some quality time."

The rumble in his voice made John shudder and Mac and Sikes whipped their heads around to stare at him. Oh, he definitely didn't like him not picking him up. Nikolai smiled, pleased with the reactions he had gotten, only then did he finally turn towards Mac and Sikes.

"Captain MacMillan, and Lieutenant White, is it? A pleasure."

Mac took Nikolai's hand in a firm handshake, staring into almost into his skull as he did, gripping his hand tight. Sikes was less aggressive, didn't feel the need to put Nikolai in his place with a handshake.

"Mr. Chimera, is it?"

Nikolai grins, eyes flickering to John before he nods, "Indeed. I hadn't considered working with SAS, but the sergeant left an impression."

Mac turns to John, "Did he now?"

John swallows, he couldn't read Mac's expression.

That's new.

"Well, we'll talk about the sergeant later. Business, that's what you want, да?"

Mac nodded, "Yea... let's see if you deliver."

Oh Kate was going to get an earful later as he surely was from Mac. If he survives until then. Mac and Nikolai appeared to be sizing each other up, not letting up on their need to be on top. Sikes noticed and John wondered if he would be able to keep Mac playing nice this time.

I should keep notes on what to yell at her later...

___

"All of this is your fault. All of it."

Kate stared at him, "And what exactly is my fault?"

She wanted him to say it, to admit it. But those words won't come out and John was left frustrated. He knows what he was feeling, clearly she knew, too. So why couldn't he say it? Years of conditioning from his father? Seeing the judgement he passed to those who he deemed worth less than dirt, undeserving of basic human kindness. Those years of fear of it being directed at him.

The man wasn't here, he didn't have control anymore. But his claws were still there, and John couldn't admit what he wanted to say. Thankfully, Kate was understanding. She was patient, more than what he deserved. Was it obvious what he was struggling with? How many others knew?

No one, just her. Someone would've said something by now, right? Mac would've, and Sikes... right?

He didn't have the energy for this. There wasn't any rulebook to follow, he didn't know anyone going through this or had been through it. He felt alone... no, there was Kate, he wasn't alone.

"I've been taught that feelings like this are wrong."

Kate nodded, John sitting next to her on the couch. They had commandeered a lounge for themselves when Mac and Nikolai came to an agreement, John and Sikes being asked to leave so they could talk one-on-one. John needed a moment to step away anyway, to complain to Kate, to vent. She was so patient, understanding. Why? She picked something up not long after they met.

"I know. I was, too."

John looked to her and when she met his eye everything finally clicked.

"Oh."

She smiled, gentle teasing because she knew he didn't need any harshness at the moment, "There you go, using your brain."

"I... when did you-?"

"When did I-?"

"When did you know. How did you know?"

Kate shrugs, "Think around high school. There was this girl that sat next to me in math and... she was all I ever cared about in that class. Loved talking to her, we would help each other when we were stuck."

Kate talked with an endearing smile, enjoying every memory she spoke of. It made John's heart beat faster, thinking to Nikolai as she talked. Then, she stopped smiling, a frown replacing it.

"She... didn't feel the same. I worked up the courage to tell her, thought she was safe."

She said nothing more and John leaned over, shoulder pressing against hers. She leaned against him, dwelling in that memory. Finally she shook her head and looked to him.

"I've moved on, found a place for me. It can be hard but it's freeing being honest with yourself. And it feels so good to have people around you who understand."

Maybe she was eager in the beginning, when she had noticed that about John. Wanted a friend in their field of work, someone with the same kind of stress surrounding them. Someone who understood more than work. She moved too quickly, but John was willing now. He saw her perspective now and felt so thankful she was there, someone who knew these things.

"Typically people don't judge too hard when you know how to use a gun," Kate mused and John grinned when he heard it.

"When you have a body count they tend to play nicer."

She grins back, nodding. John could feel it, this was a defining moment. Kate Laswell, a friend for life. For however long that was, John knew they would be friends. Trouble, they were trouble, and he was glad to have met her. It was her fault but he was thankful for it.

___

Kate and John sat quietly next to each other as Mac discussed the routes the ultranationalists were taking. Nikolai was sitting across from John, watching Mac from over his shoulder. John was trying to stay focused but he kept looking to Nikolai, finding himself observing the man. He had soft features, scars cutting through his hair that was slowly growing back. His eyes were dark, a deep brown that held a warmth that you had to search for or otherwise they appeared cold like black ink.

He was fit, pushing his limits. John noticed he didn't eat a lot but smoked whenever and drank more than having decent meals. John wondered what he would look like healthy, not living on cigarettes and meals from the corner store. If he allowed himself to not push himself, allowed himself to cut back and enjoy life. John had witnessed how Nikolai was always looking over his shoulder, he fidgeted quiet a bit like he was never at ease. Why did he come alone if he was uncomfortable?

Nikolai's eyes flickered to him and John forced himself to focus on Mac. He caught a small smile on Nikolai's face from the corner of his eye, it wasn't smug but soft. John focused on Mac, looked at him and his presentation only, but his mind wandered to Nikolai.

___

"This can end so badly," John muttered. His heart was beating so fast that he thought it was just pop. He was wondering how he let her talk him into this.

"You trust me, don't you?"

He was hesitant to agree but he was nodding before he even realized. 

"Mr. Chimera will be heading back to Russia tomorrow. Unless you want to wait out the season or go and endure it, now is your chance."

Tell him. Tell him everything.

Nikolai was heading back, he's done with working with Mac. He got two convoys of barely legal guns and dropped them in Mac's personal hanger. Now he was heading home, and John didn’t know when he'd be able to see him again. So Kate convinced him to talk to him about his feelings. John was thinking about swallowing them whole at the moment.

"Kate..."

"It'll be fine!"

He wasn't sure. John can't remember ever being this nervous over something before. Not when he was on a mission, bullets flying and hope scarce to find. No, this was the moment he felt so anxious that he thought he was going to be sick. They were currently waiting outside, waiting for Mac and Nikolai to walk out and leave for the airport. Kate planned to for to grab Mac's attention so John could talk to Nikolai.

He wasn't sure he could do it, if he could follow through. He couldn't imagine how Nikolai would react, how he would deal with rejection. He's flirted with girls before with little care with they reciprocated. But John cares so much right now, he wanted Nikolai to accept his affections. But Nikolai didn't come off as that type. John didn't want to ruin whatever strange friendship they had with his stupid human emotions.

And what about Mac? He would surely learn about it all if Nikolai reacted poorly. Would he, too, react poorly? Not care for John's interest in men? The thought itself made John's knees weak. He couldn't do this.

"Kate, I can't-"

She noticed the look on his face, he was feeling light-headed.

"Shit- Sit down, you look pale."

John pressed his back against the brick wall they hid behind and slid down to the ground. Kate got on the ground with him, worried. Was he panicking? Was this a panic attack? It's been so long since he had one he couldn't even recognize it. He was so terrified of rejection to the point he was struggling to breathe.

"John- Breathe with me."

"He'd hate me."

"No he wouldn't."

"How do you know? You know him as well as I do."

Kate said nothing else, just squeezed John's hand. It took him several minutes to breathe. Just resting against the wall with his eyes closed, trying to think of anything other than Nikolai.

In the end, John couldn't face Nikolai. He watched from the bushes as him and Mac left for the airport. Kate had a look on her face, guilt. Maybe she wanted John to have a different ending than her. He didn't blame her for pushing him, who could have predicted this?

"I need a drink."

"That doesn't sound bad... if you're paying."

Kate snickers, "Sure. I'll help your poor ass out."

It was easier to just not think about Nikolai, it didn't hurt as much that way.

___

"She's amazing, John. You'd murder for her cooking."

Annie, Annie, Annie - That's the name Kate couldn't stop saying. She called often, for business and personal reasons. Currently she called to talk about the receptionist who she was practically stalking at work. She's denied her crush, John tried to play nice but she was making teasing her way too easy.

"Kate, ya know I'm working, right?"

"Oh, I can call later."

"You sound like you're going to explode if you don't talk now," John muttered, eying Sikes from the corner of his eye as he wrote on the docs before him. The man already smacked him over distracting himself with a paperclip, he may kill him for a phone call if he noticed. Sikes left the room and John sighed, relaxing as he spoke more clearly, "We're on for capture or kill."

"Bringing friends in?"

"Can't say too much... just that I might have to see..."

He hadn't spoken to Nikolai for almost a year. He felt guilt for it because that's the opposite of what he wanted. John wanted to talk to him, wished he could've said something before he left for the airport, but he was a coward. That damn fear spiked up in his chest at the thought of it, so he tried to stop it all together. He tried not to bring up the man, even as Mac worked with Chimera more and more. He was shocked the old man didn't say much considering John introduced them.

Maybe he knew more than what John was giving him credit for, making a conscious decision to leave Nikolai's name out of the conversation. Despite the desire to talk about him, oh did John want to talk. Only Kate knew everything, John wanted to reach out to Mac, to trust him. But that fear was still there, the fear of harsh rejection. He felt weak in the knees every time he thought about opening up to Mac, so he didn't bother.

"I'll call later. I'll have a list."

John snorts, "You do that."

He ended the call and sighed, Sikes reentering the room. He quickly noticed John's lack of work and walked over to him.

"Didn't smack you too hard, huh?"

John grunts, "Been over this shit three separate times, LT."

"There's too many ways this can go wrong, John. We need to be ready. Though Chimera will be with us, so hopefully everything will go in our favor."

Sikes sat across from him with a groan. He was getting old, had more wrinkles around his eyes and grey in his hair than what John remembered.

"Capt'n's got this, LT."

"I hope he does."

Uncertainty, Sikes wasn't known for that.

John stretched in his seat, hanging his arm over the back of his chair, "Where's my harmonica? I think you need a tune."

Sikes glares at him and John grins, "You're lucky the cap doesn't let me throw that thing into the ocean."

"My dear Bess? How could you?"

Sikes laughs and John feels victorious. There was a moment of peaceful silence before Sikes sighs, not directly looking at John.

"Mac's gettin' old... so am I. Not sure how much of this game we got left in us."

John fidgets, "Not that old."

"Feel older than we look, John."

John didn't say anything as he watched Sikes. He didn't like this, the way the man sat there with almost an empty look in his eye. John felt... afraid. Sikes had been there since the beginning, right alongside Mac. The thought of him just retiring or worse made John's heart ache. But retirement was better than the alternatives, there wasn't many better ones than that.

"Don't have Mac's crown in mind?" John attempted to joke despite his tone not caring his words as such.

"No, I think after this I'll go home. My last hurrah."

"Well, I'll bake you a cake."

Sikes smiles slightly, "Wouldn't mind that... not one bit."

"You're basic, right? Chocolate?"

"Tuxedo."

"Oh. Not basic. Not sure if I want to break my back for you."

"Not even for my retirement party?"

"You're not retiring. Cap will drag you back kicking and screaming."

Sikes laughs, "That's how he got me in this mess to begin with!"

John smiles, Sikes wasn't actually going to leave... right? He couldn't just leave, what would Bravo Team be without him? Without their lieutenant or captain? It wasn't happening.

"You make a face when you're thinking, ya know that? That's how I know you're never using your head when it matters."

John glares and Sikes shrugs. They say nothing for a moment, nothing on pending departure or the mission ahead. It didn't feel real.

___

He knew Chimera would be joining them, he just didn't expect them to join this soon. John felt as though he had no time to prepare, stopping in his tracks as he heard voices speaking a foreign language in the hanger. He was a coward, John was in touch with himself enough to know that. He saw Chimera's logo and almost launched himself into another panic attack, diving into a supply closet in the hanger to give himself a moment to breathe.

His heart was racing as he heard Russian outside in the hanger. It was childish, hiding like this. But he's always been a child, running from his emotions rather than facing them. He would've left the closet and ran at the first opportunity if Mac didn't sniff him out. He opened the closet and stared at John with a blank expression, maybe some disapprovement in his eyes.

"John..."

"I-"

"No more excuses, I'm tired of you acting like this," Mac growled as he grabbed John's collar and practically threw him out of the closet.

John stopped himself before he hit a truck, turning to yell at Mac but the man grabbed him and started dragging him through the hanger. John wanted to disappear when several of Nikolai's men turned their heads to stare as Captain MacMillan dragged his very own Sergeant Price by the collar like he was a kitten needing to be held by the scruff. It was humiliating.

Mac pushed him into the office in the back of the hanger, not so gently closing the door behind him as he stepped inside. John tried to get a word out but Mac silenced him with a glare. John chose to sit in the nearest chair as a response, which proved to be the smart move. Mac groaned, pinching his nose before he sits on the desk, staring down at John with an exasperated expression.

"Lad, what are you doing?"

"I was just checking-"

"Not about the closet. Well, not just the closet. Jonathan, you haven't been yourself for months. Skittish, quiet. Who is this?"

Mac motioned to all of John and John huffed, "That's a first. Thought you said I could do to learn how to be quiet."

Mac stares, unamused, "This is about Nikolai."

John chokes, "Nik- No! Of course it's not! He's been great! Look at all we've managed to accomplish-"

"When's the last time you talked to him?"

John avoided looking at Mac, "Been a minute..."

"He told me he hasn't gotten a word out of you for four months. John, he's been trying to talk to you for four months."

Shame and guilt squeezed his heart, John now being able to look in Mac's direction even if he wanted to. He tried to keep Nikolai out of his mind and now he couldn't stop thinking about him. Thinking about how the man felt with he didn't answer his calls, when he went out of his way to avoid running into him. He was childish and cowardly, a pathetic combination.

"Lad, you like him."

"He's pretty cool, I mean- He's self made-"

Mac grunts, "Jonathan. You like him. I know you do."

John felt his heart drop, gripping the edge of the chair to the point his fingers ached. He couldn't look up at Mac, panic setting in as his mind started racing. Of course he knew, why wouldn't he? It was like Mac sensed his panic and got down in front of him, grabbing his knee to get his attention.

"John, there's nothing wrong with how you feel about him. I know you grew up being taught otherwise."

Mac has always been there, a driving force that kept John where he wanted to be. His father had tried everything he could to get him discharged, force him to come back. Mac got in the way, got him into the SAS and far away from his father and family's reach. John wasn't sure why he thought he could put Mac in the same light as them. He wasn't like them, didn't think like them.

John swallowed, "You know?"

"Yea, I do, lad. Knew plenty men like yourself. It doesn't affect your ability to shoot, to hold a gun, or how to run your mouth."

John laughed and Mac firmly patted his thigh before standing, John able to look at him now.

"Ya know, avoiding people isn't a good way to make friends, or for romance."

"Is this your approval?"

Mac laughs, "Approval? Tolerance. You can do better."

John grins, "Thought you liked him."

"I do. On a professional basis. I'd skin him alive and make a lamp."

Mac turns from him as John laughs, opening the office door. Chimera had returned to its normal chatter, uncaring for whatever occurred with Mac and John.

"He's flying in tonight. Has a bird, did you know that?"

"He flies?"

"Behave. I'll rough him up if he's nasty."

"Mac-"

The man doesn't stick around for John to get another word out, walking away from the office with determination. John watched a few Russians visibly step away from him as he marched past, unable to not think about Mac giving Nikolai a piece of his mind.

Nikolai... I need to make things right.

Mac was right, you can't make friends through avoidance. And friendship is where everything starts.

___

An unfamiliar bird over base is a good way to make everyone uneasy. It was a beautiful thing, Russian make, and definitely stolen. Nikolai owned it, and landed it with grace and experience. Watching him get out of the helo, more scruff than when John last saw him, made John almost lose his confidence.

He wasn't going to run away again.

John walked up, heart racing but he wasn't backing down. Nikolai looked genuinely surprised to see him, doing a double take to make sure he actually saw him approaching. He looked John up and down, blinking in surprise. He wasn't as welcoming, as relaxed. If John didn't know any better, he would think the man was nervous.

"Didn't know you knew how to fly," John said in an attempt to break the silence. Nikolai didn't immediately respond, probably wondering where John got the audacity. Well, he's always had it, as Sikes has said before.

"Of course I know how to fly. But you wouldn't know that, now would you?"

John steels himself, "Yea, I wouldn't. That's my mistake."

Nikolai stared at him in uneasy silence. John noticed some of his men approach rather cautious, one he recognized to be Kamarov. He looked between them, lingering on Nikolai like he was waiting for some kind of command of how to proceed. Nikolai just stared at John, face neutral like he was trying to get a rad on him.

Finally, he turned from John to face Kamarov, speaking to him in Russian. Kamarov nodded, John wondering what was said as the man walked away. After a second he realized that Nikolai was giving him a small moment to say something, anything that would make him think that repairing whatever they had was worthwhile.

John hadn't expected to get this far, maybe he did have a chance.

"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner. My treat."

Nikolai softened, "Dinner?"

"Nothing fancy. Wouldn't get your expectations up... if you want to, that is."

Nikolai huffed, "Depends. Where would you be taking me?"

John stared, Nikolai waiting. He shuffled away, looking at his feet.

"I didn't think that far ahead."

Nikolai laughs, John feeling warmth spread throughout his chest.

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"Buy me dinner."

John couldn't stop the grin, Nikolai smiling at him. He stepped away nodding, Nikolai chuckling when he bumps into the helo. Feeling his face heat up, John turned and quickly walked away, hearing Nikolai's laugh follow him.

___

"It's just a dinner. Just a dinner."

"John, you successfully asked that man out after avoiding him for months. The fact he's giving you this means it's not just dinner."

Oh, leave it to Kate to get his heart racing after he just managed to calm down.

"God... I'm fucked."

"If you're lucky."

"Kate," John hissed, hearing the woman laugh in response. At least someone was enjoying this, he was just anxious all around.

It was instinctual to call her, even hours before he was initially supposed to go out and meet Nikolai. He needed to tell someone who already knew the majority of the story. It was amazing knowing Mac supported him but the man was too eager to threaten to jump Nikolai if things didn't go well. At least Kate wasn't out right threatening him.

"A small, locally owned diner. You've been there plenty of times, the food is good and the atmosphere is great. You got this."

"Oh, you're being nice. I'm doomed."

He had get off soon to get ready, he had been watching the clock for the past ten minutes. He was supposed to pick up Nikolai, show him around town. God this felt like a date. A real date. He didn't want to fuck this up, not again. Nikolai didn't deserve that kind of disrespect. John certainly wouldn't survive it.

"I got expectations to meet."

"I'm sure they're low enough for you to manage."

John groaned, "Kate please. Am I supposed to get him in my car? It's shit, you know that!"

"Use Mac's."

"You already got him in it! He knows it's not mine!"

Kate was giggling, "Take Sikes' then."

John blinks as he thinks about it, staring at the clock before he goes to stand, "Kate I gotta go. I'll call you afterwards if I'm still alive."

"Good luck. Hope you're real lucky."

John groaned before hanging up, hearing the tail end of Kate cackling before he put the phone down. He had ten minutes before he had to get Nikolai, ten minutes to either force himself to drive his car to borrow someone else's. Nikolai had money, he felt nothing but shame and nervousness thinking about driving his old, beat up car that has seen a better decade.

He could get Sikes' car, well, SUV. It was nice, nice enough to meet Nikolai's level. Sikes wouldn't be happy but John would happily give him a reminder what he was leaving he when thought about retirement. John grabbed his nicer jacket before he left his quarters, trying to calmly walk down the hall. He went straight to Sikes' office, pleasantly surprised to find it empty and his car keys left unguarded.

Without a second thought, John grabs them before writing a quick and cheeky note for Sikes to find. He wrote a rather confident message, hoping to make Sikes want to desensitize every damn inch of his SUV. A lasting memory, no matter where he goes he will have that SUV. John felt rather hilarious for it.

He walked down the hall, rhythmed breathing to help calm himself. 

Grab the SUV, drive around to the hanger, pick up Nikolai, then drive out to get food. Simple.

Simple, it was simple. But that didn't mean it was easy.

John managed to get to the hanger but he didn't see Nikolai anywhere, not near his bird or with his men. John did arrive earlier than agreed upon, maybe caught Nikolai unexpected.

Or he's not coming. Wanted to give me a taste of my own medicine.

Once that thought entered his mind it would not leave. Mac always did he could get in his own head like no one else, his own worst enemy. Nikolai wouldn’t do that, would he? He seemed genuine when accepting John's invitation to dinner. Was it an act? Has he been played?

John's heart almost escaped through his throat as Kamarov knocks on the window, grinning when he noticed he caught him off guard. John groans and rolls down the window, Kamarov leaning against the SUV's door.

"He's getting pretty. Will be out in a moment."

John made a face, he wasn't sure which one but it made Kamarov laugh. The man walked away and said something to the other Chimera men, most of them joining him in laughter. John sighed as he leaned back against the seat, debating on whether or not he should get out and greet Nikolai when he finally leaves the hanger.

What did he tell his guys this was?

John felt his face flush, did Nikolai refer to this as a date? 

John looked out of the corner of his eye and saw Nikolai.

Pretty indeed.

He moved quickly, uncoordinated, opening the door and trying to get out smoothly but his foot was caught in something, probably the door itself. John had ten seconds of what was the slowest fall of his life before he smacked against the ground, hard. And a chorus of Russian laughter howled in response. There wasn't a moment in existence where John wanted to spontaneously combust more than then.

He laid there, that probably is what made them laugh harder. Then silence as someone grabs his arm to help him up.

"Sergeant! Are you alright?"

Nikolai. Of course he did that where Nikolai could see him. John couldn't face the man as he hauled him off the ground all too easily. He finally had no choice to look at him when the man grabs his face and turns it, keeping an arm around him to keep him upright. Maybe it was the close proximity of Nikolai's face that made John to try to free himself. It would show that Nikolai didn’t have a grasp easily escaped.

"Be still. You're bleeding. Let me clean it up-" his tone had a very light bit of laughter in it, Nikolai showing more concern than amusement.

John kept trying to look away as Nikolai wrestled him to sit back in the car. This was already off to a bad start.

"I'm fine! Had worse."

"Your nose is-"

"Fine! I- Dinner."

Nikolai finally releases him, "It can wait a moment. Please let me clean your face."

John couldn't keep saying no, sighing as Nikolai turned and walked back to the hanger. Not a single one of his men laughed, choosing to go back to their previous work. He felt like he missed something while he was kissing the ground, they weren't daring to look in his direction now.

Nikolai returned with a first aid kit, John groaning. The place he wanted to take him didn't close until late so that wasn't a worry. But John found it impossible to be still and let Nikolai clean his face. The man was so gentle, holding his face with great care. John couldn’t look at him even though his face was so close to his, he just looked away before finally closing his eyes.

"Not so bad, looks like the ground didn't want to damage your beautiful face."

John's face lit on fire, the sergeant jerking his head free from Nikolai's face. He cleared his throat, Nikolai backing up with a small smile. John motioned to the other side of the SUV, staring mostly at the ground as he did.

"Dinner."

Nikolai laughs, "I apologize, I was too forward."

John's face was red, he knew it was. Nikolai showed him mercy by packing the first aid kit back up and tossing it to one of his men before he went around to the passenger side. John forced himself to get back in the driver's seat, face still hot as he thought about Nikolai's words and tenderness.

Oh he wasn't going to survive tonight.

___

“Congratulations, sergeant, you found the one place in this country that has decent food.” 

It was an obvious prod, Nikolai trying to get a reaction. John glared at him and the man grinned, he was waiting for a more verbal response. But John wasn’t going to give it to him, instead he’d prod the man as well. 

“You finally get your quality time and this is what you choose to do with it?” 

Nikolai licked his lips, “Oh, I’d have better things in mind. For proper quality time, mind you. This is-” 

He silently searched for the word, John watching him. He could practically hear it already, it was right there. Nikolai didn’t say it, just sighed. 

“This is quality time. Base level.” 

John snorts, “I can upgrade the level of quality time?” 

“If you play nice... starting by answering my calls.” 

John looked back to his food, shame pricking at his skin. Nikolai didn’t say anything else, poking at his slice of pie. It was an awkward silence, John deserved that.  

He thought back to his relationship with Kate in the beginning. But he got past that moment of sourness. Could he move on with Nikolai? He gave him this chance, this moment to apologize. He deserved an apology, this man that John didn’t know all about but couldn’t stop thinking about for a second. 

“Well, I am a coward. Good at taking people for granted, hurting people who don’t deserve it.” 

“A coward? Not you,” Nikolai disagreed, “I fondly think back to when you first impressed me.” 

A stolen cigarette, that’s what came to John’s mind upon Nikolai’s mention of that car chase.

"Cowards avoid things. Avoid talking to people they actually want to talk to," John muttered, he wasn't as hungry as he was moments ago.

Nikolai reached across the table and grabbed John's free hand, the man jerking up to look at him. There was understanding in Nikolai's eyes, it was like he understood what John was feeling on a deeper level than previously. There wasn't any words in that short moment, just a comfort and relief washing over him. He squeezed Nikolai's hands before letting go, the man sitting back on the other side of the table.

"It's not safe to be open in such a way, sergeant. I grew up in the system, never had a stable home life. I've seen people get killed over petty disagreements, let alone something they cannot help."

This was the first time John heard of this, out of everything he learned from Kate or hearing from Nikolai himself, this was something personal. He was letting him in, letting him get close, even after those months of silence. John knew he could never betray that trust, he'll never let his own fear get the better of him.

"I grew up rich."

Nikolai smiled, "Oh?"

"That first dinner you treated me and Kate to? That place was like going back home," John didn't want to share too much, while Nikolai opened up to him he didn't give too much information. John would do the same, match him.

"Had the finest silk sheets growing up, silver utensils all my life. Never been happier to get away from it."

Nikolai's smile was softer now, "I found people like me, even in our not so welcoming world. I didn't know stepping away from them in the end would be the best decision for me."

Cryptic messages, Nikolai was certainly sharing more than what he was used to. John didn't push for more, finally taking a bite of food (now colder than what he would've liked) and a drink of his watered down fizzy drink. They finished their plates in silence and John went to pay, but Nikolai wasn't going to let that happen in peace.

"Nikolai, put that wallet away."

"From riches to rags, I insist to cover this."

Oh that made John's eye twitch. He turned to the man who barely containing a gleeful grin, he was purposely prodding at him.

"I'm paying, Nik, and you're just going to have to let it happen. My treat, 'member?"

Nikolai grinned and finally allowed him to get out of the booth to pay. The waiter had been watching them this entire time, trying to act like he hadn't. John visited the diner enough to recognize a few of the staff, he didn't recognize this guy. At least the regular staff know not to stare at him.

When John returned to Nikolai so they could leave, the man was still grinning at him. John knew he was waiting for him to say something about it, so now John wasn't going to.

"Alright, let's get out of here."

"Hm? You are done with me already?"

"'Course not, got other things in mind."

Nikolai followed him outside, John was planning to just get in the car and leave, but Nikolai had other things planned.

"Where are you going?"

"A walks sounds lovely, no?"

John huffs out a short laugh as Nikolai walks out of the car park and into town. He had no choice but to follow him, he couldn't allow the man to get lost. There was a whole militia waiting for him to come back in one piece so John better deliver. He jogged to catch up to Nikolai, the man not slowing for a second as he ventured away from the diner.

"It feels lovely tonight."

"It's cold."

Nikolai looks at him, "Would you like to visit my home town?"

John hums, "Little earlier for that, isn't it? How long have we known each other?"

"That didn't stop you."

John glares and Nikolai laughs, sidestepping to avoid a swipe from him. Nikolai stepped back over after John stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"What was that you called me earlier?"

"I've called you many things in my head."

"Out loud. Nik, was it? Rather informal."

John flushes, "I-"

"I like it."

John chews on his lip, walking next to Nikolai in silence. Nikolai chose to be quiet, enjoying the walk, cool breeze, staring up at the sky with a light-hearted smile. You would never know this was an arms dealer, a man who profits off war. He didn't come off as that kind of person, scars and questionable background be damned.

He wanted to say something, as he stared at Nikolai, say anything to add to the moment. But John was afraid he wouldn't be able to do that, so he remained quiet. Staring, and he knew that Nikolai noticed. He was still smiling, he felt warm to stand next to even in the chilly evening.

"Maybe we should move on with your activity list, so you can return that borrowed vehicle."

Nikolai looked to John, smug, and John was horrified. Nikolai laughed as John stuttered, trying to get out a response in his defense.

"I know what your car looks like, sergeant. Maybe pick me up in it sometime."

Nikolai headed back to the car park and John watched him, dumbfounded.

"How do you know what my car looks like!?"

Nikolai didn't reply, just skipped ahead to the SUV.

___

"It was Kate, wasn't it?"

They took a longer route back to base, enjoying the ride with music playing softly from the radio. John couldn't get past the car comment.

"What fun would it be telling you? I need to keep my air of mystery."

John glared, "You're mysterious enough."

Nikolai's laugh would never get old. John could see him smile all night, hear him laugh all night. He wouldn't dare say this out loud, that would be too much.

They pulled back into base, security stopping them.

"Out late, sergeant. Hot date?"

A joke, but John had a hard time taking it as such. It stayed with him as he drove them to the hanger occupied by Chimera, and it apparently stayed with Nikolai, as well. They stopped in front of the hanger, Nikolai's men no where in sight. 

"Well, that's the night."

"That's all?" Nikolai sounded amused yet disappointed. 

"Well, work night and all..."

It was awkward, how was he supposed to end this? Nikolai was watching him expectantly, what was he waiting for? John was out of his element. The diner, walking through town, the park, the night drive-

How does he say good night to Nikolai?

"I may be... rusty."

"Rusty? In what, sergeant?"

John didn't get to speak as Nikolai reaches over and takes his chin in his hand, forcing him to look at him. Everything slowed in that moment, John's heart pounding and his mind screaming. Nikolai pulled him close and he followed without resistance. He couldn't remember the last time he ever kissed someone, let alone someone he was so drawn to. It was sweet but awkward.

When Nikolai parted away, John was staring at him with wide eyes, unable to say a word. He stared long enough to make Nikolai nervous, maybe even make him doubt himself and lose confidence. John didn't let him stew too long, grabbing Nikolai's shirt and forcing him close again, this time kissing with effort. Nikolai melted almost immediately, a hand cupping his jaw as he leaned completely into John.

When they parted again, John was grinning stupidly as was Nikolai. It was a wonderful feeling, like he could finally breathe.

"That's how you end a date, sergeant," Nikolai muttered and John laughed, "I would show you another way but... I want to know you."

"I want to know you, too."

It was all too soft and sweet for men like them. But it was something John needed terribly, he wasn't even aware of how much he needed it until that moment. Nikolai ended the night with another kiss, soft on his cheek before he got out of the SUV and headed into the hanger. John watched him until he was out sight, only then driving back to the car park to return the SUV.

___

"You look... happy," Banks muttered, watching him with great suspicion.

John wasn't surprised, he felt better than he had in years. True, genuine happiness, of course it was noticed.

"I had a good night."

"Right... in LT's car?"

John bites back a laugh as Sikes, who had previously gave him a wide berth the entire morning, whipped his head around to glare at them. Banks snorted and ducked his head, suppressing his laughter into his arm. Mac walked in then, with Nikolai, and Banks was putting all his training towards not cackling at Sikes' expression.

"Gentlemen, business," Mac grunted.

Nikolai chose to sit next to John and John felt giddy. Mac looked between them like he knew something, and he wasn't pleased about what he knew. But he didn't say anything on it, choosing to move on to the task at hand.

John tried to focus, but it was hard when Nikolai insisted on holding his hand under the table.

___

"You kissed him? Kissed him!?"

Apparently being polite and not waking Kate up in the night to tell her was the wrong move. He chose to go with her annoyance.

"Yea, we're having a spring wedding. When's yours?"

Kate was hysterical, in laughter and other reasons. John listened, laughing, as he stared at the postcard that was left on his desk. It was written in Russian, a heart at the end, and John knew his next personal mission. Learn Russian, and hopefully write out everything he felt that he's never been able to say out loud in English.

[marlsswrites]

Summer camp AU, part 12!!

July 12th <3

Gate - @jegulus-microfic words: 854

First part Previous part

Regulus finally let himself relax, he sat outside the cabin scanning his eyes over the soft still water, the sunrise reflecting and bouncing from the water and shining onto his face. His legs were tucked into his chest, his half steaming hot coffee on the floor at his side, he picked the cup up and cradled it in his hands, blowing on it gently and watching the steam dissolve into the crisp morning air.

He inhaled once, feeling the fresh air kissing his lungs before exhaling. It was early, unusually early for Regulus to be awake actually. He picked his phone out from his pocket, checking the time, smiling at the photo of him and Pandora on his lock screen.

5:05AM... he normally doesn't get up this early, but his head was running around and around and spiralling him into circles, so he thought he'd try and wind down outside. 

After a few moments, he felt his phone buzzing in his hands. Odd, anyone who would phone him would certainly not be up right now, if they were, he should probably send help. Especially Barty, he's an actual demon before 9AM. Regulus can't say much, if anyone were to wake him up this early he'd probably insult them, hit them, and go back to sleep.

It was a random number, one he did not in fact recognise. He pressed answer reluctantly, maybe someone had changed their number, and he also was not awake enough right now to think about who it could be.

"Hello?" He chewed on his lip and let out the mumbled word into his phone.

"Reg!" The relieved and excitable voice of James rang into his ear.

"When the fuck did I give you my number?" Regulus sighed out.

He heard a hearty laugh. "I nagged Sirius to give it to me in case I couldn't find you."

James couldn't see him right now, but yet he still rolled his eyes and felt a twitch of his lips at the care the older boy gave to him, it was nice. It felt sweet, promising, it also made his heart do that fluttery thing and his hands fiddle nervously on the hem of his baggy sleeping shirt.

"On that note." James added. "Where are you? You weren't here when I woke up."

"Outside the cabin, you idiot."

Laughing, he swore he heard James release a loud breath that sounded like he'd been holding it in all morning, before the sound of the cabin door opening then the fence gate swinging open and shut sounded in his ears.

Now is when he actually became very aware that he was wearing a massive t-shirt that dropped off one shoulder and long black boxers, his hair was an absolute mess and his cheeks most definitely bitten by the cold air and flushed pink. He promptly shifted on the bench and gave a wary look to his side when he felt the warmth of a figure slump next to him with the huff of a breath.

"Hi." The brunette gave a toothy smile. "I-" He cut himself off and his eyes seemed to widen to the size of tennis balls. Regulus felt a strange wave of nerves wash over him as James just stared at him, his gaze flicking up, down, left, right, and back to Regulus eyes, his smile wobbling and his eyes glowing with something unplaceable to the raven haired boy.

"What?" He felt tiny under James' eyeline, shrinking down further into his loose shirt.

"Nothing." James shook his head, but it clearly wasn't nothing, the way his face morphed into different emotions and how his eyes grew wide and lustful, that wasn't nothing.

He gave a hard blink of his eyes, swallowing his doubts and looking back up to see James smiling at him yet again, but a concerned glint passed though his eyes. 

"You look freezing." He tutted. 

Regulus immediately went to protest, but he in fact was getting quite cold and the hot coffee he was holding moments ago only did so much to warm him up. 

Swiftly, James took his dark jacket off, revealing a maroon jumper underneath, and he draped it over Regulus' bare pale shoulders. "There, can't have you being cold."

He should've taken it right off, shoved it in James' face, and waltzed back into the actual heat of their cabin, to preserve his feelings from being shredded to pieces when he realised James was just trying to be nice. But the coat smelt like James, pine wood and strong cologne, the warming smell of fruit tea and the soft collar that brushed against his neck. It made him feel safe, like he was in James' arms, this is the closest he would ever get to that anyway. 

He purposely ignored the adoring looks he was getting from the boy next to him, even though he could feel it shooting right to his stomach and fluttering like a hundred butterflies nipping at his insides.

So who was Regulus to deny the swallowing warmth and safety of James Potters jacket, the smell and the way he drowned in it in the best way possible.

Next part

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Firearm - Lando Norris

<word count - 1314>

Sitting on the windowsill of your childhood home, the window pushed wide open, you brought the joint to your lips after you had just lit it. This had become something of a habit after moving back into your parent's place since it was one of the only things that could take your mind off of everything that had happened. 

As you had many times before, you hoped the smell wouldn't waft through the house and reach the nose of your mother, who was downstairs. You didn't want her knowing about this nasty little wont that you had developed - just like you didn't want her to know the extent of the pain you were feeling. 

It was like a rollercoaster: one moment you were having the time of your life, zipping along the tracks without a care in the world. The next, you were hurtling down at breakneck speeds, your screams being drowned out by the whistling wind as the world flew past you. There was no stopping it once the descent had begun, and you had figured that out the hard way. 

Once you had reached the bottom and the ride had stilled, you realised that the wind had carried parts of you away. There was a hole in your heart, and you couldn't find a bullet. The aftermath was there, but you couldn't find the perpetrator. 

He had hidden it, kept it to himself, slept with it under his pillow like a secret diary. You should've reached under the surface and fired it at him, but you were so blinded with love and all the golden things in life that you couldn't even see it. 

But now that you were through, you could see it all. You mixed the thought of him with vodka or any other form of drink that you could get your hands on. You always drank with your friends, just to be on the safe side, but it was always you that ended up completely shitfaced and barely able to string together a sentence. 

It was always babbles of Lando's name combined with all the reasons you either hated him or wanted to fuck him until you passed out. The line was very blurred, and the polarities were becoming evermore indistinguishable. They'd never mention him, and neither would you unless you'd had been on the tequila - which you often were. 

To be fair, the man was everything to you. He was the center of your universe, the Danny to your Sandy, the Harry to your Sally. But clearly he just saw you as the Cha Cha to his Danny in the end. He was your first love, your first special someone, and he broke it off like it was a summer dream, ripped at the seams. 

After these drunken affairs, your friends would leave you in bed and hope you'd go straight to sleep instead of  crying yourself to slumber like you had when the breakup was fresh in your mind. Once they had left, you'd open your phone and vent about him in anonymous forums. 

You referred to him as 'Landon' as opposed to his actual name, which was your inebriated brain thinking you were being sneaky and deceptive. Namelessly, you'd rant and rant and rant until your brain gave up and surrendered to the intoxicated need for sleep.

The next morning you'd open your phone with a banging headache and foggy recollection of the night, and the first app open would be the chat forum. You'd read your words and it felt like the bullet wound in your heart became increasingly bigger.

You hated the burning itch that it presented you every time that it stretched a few inches bigger, and it was becoming too hard to ignore. You tried to pretend like you really didn't care, that it was something that didn't bother you, but it did. 

But it did. 

You had put up with him, loved him, been there through every single little thing that went on in his life, yet he had brushed passed him like it meant nothing. What a shame it was that you had dealt with his bullshit and this was how he had repaid you. 

What a goddamn joke, was it all just an act? A falsified version of himself that he used to make you inclined to do his bidding and wait on his every beck and call? You were so oblivious to lies and deceit that you didn't even notice the impending doom that was flying towards you at precipitate speeds. And by the time you had noticed, it had pierced through your flesh and soul. 

A soul that had really believed that he loved you. Yet, even now, even with countless shots of tequila surging through your veins, you couldn't decide what had caused him to decide that you weren't enough for him. Well, maybe you were at one point, but you sure as hell weren't anymore. 

Was it the rise to fame? The becoming of the rising star in F1 known as Lando Norris: the dashing young driver with a loveable personality with that dash of juvenile charm? Or was it your complete lack of notability in the public eye that turned him away? He realised that he could have anyone he wanted and he was like a kid in a candy store, eyes ogling at all of the endless possibilities that were better than what he had.

As the days dragged on and his apparent lack of love for you became an even heavier weight on your shoulders, your mind started to spiral a little more. It felt like Lando didn't really care. You saw him in the media, on TV and he was fine. 

Even when it was fresh and the dust hadn't quite settled, he had put on a brave front. You knew he was an awful actor, and the majority of people could tell, even with all of the PR training in the world. Lando would be Lando, and nothing would ever change that. Not even you. 

It was like he didn't quite realise the pain that he had caused. He hadn't quite grasped the severity of the situation and the gravity of what had happened. Maybe it was his slightly immature approach to things, but you hoped he was hurting. 

Hell, even if it was just a fraction of the pain that you were feeling, it was better than nothing. Anything he would give you was better than nothing. 

It was getting to a point where you didn't feel like talking, but everyone else does. You had seen the speculations about the two of you online and everything. Some people thought you were secretly still together, others thought it was just a physical relationship as opposed to anything deep and meaningful. 

You'd read through your own anonymous posts that you had made under the influence, and you hated yourself for continuously bringing it up, always making yourself relive it and ripping the stitches on your heart apart.

The hole made by the Lando Norris sized bullet that couldn't be filled by anything else. You couldn't find anything else to fit into the cavity that he had left behind. He still slept with the firearm of his words and actions that would always damage you.

You wished you could have the energy to bite back, maybe send him a text slating him and making him feel how you felt. But you didn't. All of your energy was spent on repairing yourself, trying to gee yourself up and move on . 

At the end of the day, you didn't think you would ever quite move on. You could fill the void with a few different objects, but there would always be a few gaps. A few pieces missing of the puzzle. A few parts of yourself that he had destroyed, and you would never get back.

|masterlist|five seconds flat|

A/N - Hello my darlings! Am I dead? No, not quite. I have had absolutely 0 motivation, but I am 25k into a mafia!Charles thing, so... That's something, no? I have so much stuff half finished and so many ideas spilling out of every orifice, so there's a shit tonne of half finished stuff laying around in every program I use to write on. I have had this finished for a while, I just couldn't be bothered to make the banner thing. And I am on a roll with Carlos right now like... the past 3 things I have worked on are all his. Got a lot finished for Charles that just hasn't been posted, so I'm getting around to it. Anyway, hope you're all enjoying summer break, I know I sure am. Love y'all 💖💖

[fangirl-writes]

Payback

John B. Routledge x Reader; Ex!Topper Thornton x Reader

Warning(s): Cheating, swearing, making out

1k words (she's a shortie)

Request: I was wondering if you could write something where you are dating topper and in the episode Where John b finds out that Sarah cheated on John b with topper, you find out that topper cheated on you with Sarah even though topper said that he was not into Sarah anymore that he had gotten over her and all that so after John B and JJ leaves the whole little party thing John B. find you at the beach crying he’s wondering who is the beautiful girl on the beach crying for, he asks you why you’re crying you tell him what happened and then he’s like well what if we get back at them and after you and John b get back at them they find out and they're pissed you can fill in the blanks with whatever🤷🏾‍♀️

Notes: I hated the cheating plot in season 3. And like they move passed it so quickly! And they just get back together in the end! OBX write not-toxic couples challenge.

Also, I didn't write in the part where Sarah and Topper find out because it would've gotten a lot more complicated based on where I stuck this in the plot and I didn't want to do that, but I hope you like regardless!

This was an anger John B. had never felt before.

Getting cheated on sucked.

And by someone who was supposed to be the love of his life. His fucking wife. While he had a shotgun to his head, she was hooking up with Topper.

He knows he hasn't exactly been honest with her, but he'd never-

John B. wanted to punch something.

His life was falling apart around him. He was lying to his friends, distrusting his dad.

In some twisted way, he'd had everything on that deserted island. And now he was back to nothing to lose.

Which was maybe why he punched Topper, despite Sarah's shouts and protests. And he didn't regret it. Not a bit.

Especially when you came along.

You were just as hurt as he was. And you'd be lying if you said seeing the blood pour out of Topper's nose didn't offer you some solace.

He was done with her, over her, that's what'd he'd said. You should've known better. Should've gone to that stupid beach party that all the kooks were going to.

But you didn't think there was even a possibility of this. You thought Sarah was completely caught up with John B. You had no reason to think otherwise.

So, you sank yourself onto the beach and cried.

That's where John B. found you.

"Y/N?"

Your head snapped up from where it had been buried in your knees to find him standing by you.

He had on a pair of fresh clothes since the night before, the usual bandana around his neck and puffy eyes that told you he'd also been crying at some point.

He looked handsome despite it, though, whereas you must've looked a mess.

"Are you okay?"

You gave a watery laugh. "No. I don't know how I could be right now, after your girlfriend hooked up with my boyfriend- ex-boyfriend."

"Ex-girlfriend," John B. clarified, dropping himself on the sand next to you.

The sun was rising over the horizon and the weight of exhaustion was starting to get to you. You hadn't slept a wink.

"It sucks, doesn't it?" He said.

"Yeah. It sucks a lot," you replied, wiping the tears off your face.

The silence hung in the air between you, the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and the seagulls squawking. It was beautiful peace in contrast to the chaos in your head.

“You wanna get them back?”

You turned to John B., a little taken aback. “You mean, like...kiss?”

He laughed a little. “Well, I was thinking a bit more than that, but, sure, we can start there.”

"I don't know..."

John B. nodded, returning his gaze on the ocean.

“If you don’t want to that’s obviously fine,” he said. “Just- thought it’d be fair, you know?”

You looked away from him, staring at your feet.

You were already hurt, deeply, and so was he. All it would do was make things more complicated.

If you got attached, like you so often did, what would you do then?

He must've still loved Sarah and you still had feelings for Topper, however skewed they were now.

But you couldn't help but think he was right.

It would be fair and to say you didn’t want to would be a lie. To say you hadn’t noticed how handsome he was or wondered what it would be like...

“Okay.”

John B. looked at you, slightly surprised, but smiled softly. “Okay.”

You heart started beating faster as he raised his hand to brush it against your cheek, his pretty brown eyes looking into yours.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it either. You were very pretty, someone he always felt was out of reach, until now.

And he knew this was stupid, but he didn't care.

You were too nervous to make the first move and he knew that, so, before you could come to your senses and back out, he pressed his lips to yours.

You nearly gasped at the feeling, at the force he kissed with, the emotion he poured into every move he made. You could almost taste the grief and desperation on his lips.

You have it back the best you could. Pouring all your feelings into the kiss.

He hummed, moving closer to you and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

You hummed back, slackening your jaw a little to allow his tongue to slide into your mouth.

The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy. Your hands slid their way up his arms, moving over the curves of his muscles and stilling at his shoulder; fingers curling and scratching his skin lightly.

His hands moved from your face to your hips and he pulled you into his lap, making you gasp.

He chuckled, smiling and pressing his forehead against yours.

You smiled back, laughing in return.

Something about it was so light, silly, almost.

Kissing John B. wasn't a declaration of love. It was something that didn’t hold as much weight as when you kissed Topper or John B. kissed Sarah.

It was different.

Was it better?

John B. was determined to find out, so he leaned in to kiss you again and you allowed him to.

He was intoxicating, you couldn’t get enough of him. He threw a blanket over the chaos in your mind so that the only thing left was the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands loose around your waist.

He wanted to go farther, you could feel it, but you pulled back.

"I'm sorry," you said, moving your hands to cup his face. "I-I can't-"

"It's okay," he whispered, breathily. "That was- I-"

He was looking at you so intensely, a look in his eyes you couldn't figure out. It made your stomach flip.

"Thank you," he said.

You couldn't help the laugh through your nose, your head dipping to press against his shoulder, arms moving to lay around his neck. "No problem."

Neither of you moved. Content to just stay there together for a little while longer.

But the day was quickly moving and John B. still had to get his father back.

"Hey, I, uh, I gotta go," he said, moving and you got off of him. "But, um, thank you, again, and, maybe, when I get back, we can...meet up?"

You smiled at him, pulling your knees to your chest as he stood up. "You going somewhere, outlaw?"

He smiled back. "Hey, cleared on all charges remember?"

"Something tells me you're not about to be rubbing elbows with Shoupe anytime soon."

He laughed. "You might be right there."

"What're you up to this time?"

"Something I can't get you involved in," he said. "I've gotten too many people in trouble lately. But, seriously, after?"

You stand up then and kiss him on the cheek. "After."

"Okay." He starts to back up, wanting to look at you a little bit longer, then trips over a root, which makes you laugh.

"Careful, cowboy."

He blushed, finally turning away from you and running off.

"After," he repeated to himself. He was just going to get his dad, find the gold, and then come back for you.

His heart swelled.

For the first time in a while, he had something to come back for.

[officialdaydreamer00]

Dream Diary of Irene Lovejoy

characters: irene lovejoy (aka the prefect), ace trappola

supporting characters: deuce spade, jack howl, epel felmier, ortho shroud, sebek zigvolt, grim

cw: weird and realistic dreams, liminal spaces, references to the backrooms™, use of blue matter to replace blood

first dream: the endless hallway (ace trappola)

they didn't know what they were expecting when they went to ramshackle dorm that day. the prefect and grim weren't present in classes as usual, so naturally, they were rather worried.

well, deuce and jack were, the others were more confused than worried.

deuce knocked on the old wooden door. "prefect? are you there, prefect?" he called. "grim?" but nobody replied.

"maybe they're still asleep?" epel suggested, but ace furrowed his eyebrows in doubt. "prefect doesn't sleep that much. usually, she should've been awake and walking by now."

now they were getting even more worried.

deuce tried to open the door. however, it did not budge at all. not even a single creak indicating its moves. it as as if they were in front of a solid brick wall. "it's... locked?"

"i say we force the door open by magic." sebek, who had been (surprisingly) quiet the entire time, proposed a plan with a serious solemn look on his face. they nodded and held up their pens, pointing at the dorm's door.

it took them a few tries before the door was blasted off of its hinges. the five stepped inside the dorm. immediately, a cold atmosphere engulfed them whole, sending shivers down their spines. even ortho had a feeling of utter dread blaring in his system. the hall was void of human presence, completely. there was no signs of the three ghosts who resided in this dorm either. it was like a no one had been here in decades, and that whole idea had never felt more wrong than in that moment.

the moment they made it to the lounge, they felt their heart dropped simutaneously. "great seven, what the hell happened here?" the entire place was wrecked from top to bottom. nothing was whole and blue splattered everywhere, on the floor, on the walls, on the broken furniture, on the prefect-

"wait, prefect!?" there she was, sprawling face down by the broken couch. grim was also found unconcious near her. deuce held the prefect in his arms as jack picked grim up. both of them were stained with the same metallic blue that covered the room, and on the prefect's wrist had a strange mark literally carved into her skin. and, by the looks of it, the mark was fresh and... glowing(?) a deep blue hue.

"what's that?" ace picked up her arm and stared at the symbol in confusion. and he touched it.

the next thing they all knew, was a sudden drowsy state, and five loud thuds as they dropped to the floor around the prefect, falling into a deep sleep.

"ugh..."

ace woke up, feeling disoriented. his head was throbbing painfully as he tried to sit up.

"what... happened...?" he cradled his head.

as his vision soon cleared, ace found himself in a hallway. the monotonous grey walls and the constant buzzing of fluorescent light were gnawing at his mind, ace thought he would go crazy if he stayed too long.

"hey. you're awake."

ace jolted at the sudden voice echoing next to him. he snapped his head towards the source, only to see...

"p-prefect!?"

the prefect was sitting close to him and staring at him with unreadable wide eyes. chills crawled down his spine, ace felt as if there was something so... wrong about the prefect- should he even call the one in front of him 'prefect'?

"you've been there for almost an hour now. come on, get up." the 'prefect' ushered him up, grabbing his arm rather roughly. "the others are waiting at the base."

there it was again. ace felt a pit of dread formed in his stomach. the prefect would never manhandle anyone like that. and she practically never called his name.

"what- who are you?" ace muttered, ripping his arm out of her (surprisingly) tight grip and keeping his distance.

"what are you doing?" the 'prefect' said calmly. she turned her head to ace in a slow but strange manner. "we don't have much time. we have to go, now."

it was then ace saw her face. she had the prefect's face, but her eyes. her eyes were a dull blue, while the prefect's were sea green. this further solidifying his doubts.

she- this person wasn't the prefect.

"you- you are not her."

ace took a step back, alarmed and on guard. who was the impostor wearing her face in front of him? where was the real prefect?

the 'prefect' only stared at him, never even blinked once. then, her head snapped to the side as if her neck broke. the thing began to take a step towards ace, who staggered backwards. his hand reached towards his shirt pocket, only to find his magic pen gone. the thing kept getting closer to ace, its skin began to melt like candle wax, revealing the grotesque bone structure that made up its being.

eyes glanced towards the thing, he ultimately decided. "oh, fuck this." he turned his heels and ran.

ace continued running, knowing full well the thing was chasing him down, considering the heavy footsteps gaining up on him.

"how long is this damn hallway!?"

ace glanced behind him. his heart nearly stopped when he saw the thing only a few steps away, its hands reached out just waiting to grab him.

'is this how i'm gonna die? to a creature before even finding the prefect or the others?'

no. of course not.

a hand outstretched from the endless wall, grabbing his hand and pulling him through. ace's heart almost leaped out of his chest when that happened, and before he could react, the hands slapped over his mouths, rendering him speechless.

"shhh quiet! it will hear you!" the person whispered-yelled. ace widened his eyes once he got a better look at the person under the flashlight they held.

"p-prefect?" his voice was muffled under her hand.

the person in front of him now had a rather disheveled look. messy black hair with wisps of white framing her face, tired sea green eyes marred with dark eye bags hiding behind a pair of round glasses. ace also saw the beauty mark under her right eye, just barely hidden behind her hair. this was the real prefect.

"prefect, where—"

"you touched the mark on my wrist, didn't you?"

the prefect gave ace a hard glare, to which he gulped nervously.

"i already sent my absence note to the professors the day before, but the little monster just have to touch my wrist, now you guys too?"

"w-who's the 'little monster'? gr-"

he was interrupted yet again.

"don't, and i mean don't, say your or anyone's name here."

he wisely shut up. the prefect sighed, a hand fixed her glasses as another hand ran through her messy mop of hair. "this place, where we're in, is my dream. in here, people like me are called the dreamers. the glowing mark you saw acts as a key leading people into a dreamer's mind. and those people can't return to the real world only until a dreamer found them, because if you somehow die here, you disappear from the real world too."

"us dreamers have to find a series of things or people who had fallen into our dreams the... wrong way. i can't explain how or why it's wrong, it just is." the prefect turned to look at ace. "like my tasks now. it went from finding my earrings to finding you guys."

the prefect shook her head. "i think i've said enough. you have to return to the real world, right now. and when you do..."

her hard stare turned softer with concern as she gripped his shoulders. ace could feel her hands shaking. "please, never try to come get me like that, ever, again."

a beat of silence. ace nodded grimly.

"okay, prefect."

"good."

she let out another tired sigh. in this moment, the prefect seemed to have aged more than she ever was. she rubbed her tired eyes, looking back at ace with a serious gaze she always had on duty.

"when you return, inform the dorm leaders about our... situation. text them, call them if you must, no one can leave or enter ramshackle until i've found all of you. am i clear, ace of hearts?"

ace nodded again, this time more firmly. "yes, prefect."

"good, good." she lifted a hand to cover his eyes and chanted something under her breath. his eyes went all blurry again, and he closed his eyes.

ace woke up with a gasp. he scrambled to sit up as chills creeped down his back. he looked around, and surely, he was back at ramshackle.

he then noticed the rest of the first year gang was still unconscious, and he remembered what the prefect had told him. he quickly pulled out his phone to send riddle a text, then he waited.

they'd wake up soon. ace sat there, waiting for the next person to wake up.

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reblogs are appreciated!

[robbinghisdick]

Putting a pause to hero work didn't help Dick get more rest like he thought it would. With no financial backing from Bruce, Dick was left working as many hours as he could to afford rent and time off once the baby came. He was exhausted beyond belief and sore all over. His due date was still a solid month away and it might as well have been an eternity. He was done.

Once home, he cooked and told himself he'd worry about the dishes later. As he went to the couch, something moved in his peripheral vision. His reaction time was slow, body jerking and tripping over his own feet. The bowl fell from his hands as he prioritized catching himself on the counter. The porcelain bowl shattered as it hit the ground.

Dick glanced to his side to see Slade staring at him and his head hung with a heavy sigh. Of course he invited himself over. Why not. Looking at the broken remains of his dinner, the only thing he could currently stomach, he felt his eyes burn with incoming tears. He should've been able to catch that.

Don't be ridiculous, Dick scolded himself, it's just some noodles and a bowl. Getting angry at himself only served to make his eyes water more. He straightened up and swallowed hard.

"It's not spilt milk, but are we really going to cry over this, Grayson?" Slade asked.

Dick squeezed his hands into fists, eyes closing and taking in a deep breath. "I'm not in the mood, Slade." He hadn't been in the mood for Slade's taunts for a while now.

"No kidding."

Something in Dick snaps. "Oh fuck you!" He snarled. "Get out!

Slade seemed taken aback, hands half raised. "As ease-"

"NO! Get the fuck out of my apartment!" Dick started to storm forward, ready throw Slade out by force. "How many times do I have to tell you-"

Slade's eye narrowed and rushed forward, grabbing Dick by the shoulder. He forced the other man back a step and Dick heard the crunch of Slade's boot against broken porcelain.

Dick stared down at the floor, at the remains of his dinner and how close he had been to stepping in it bare footed.

The anger deflates into a sob.

Once the tears spill he couldn't stop them, defeated and exhausted.

"Please just go," Dick begged, hating himself for crying in front of Slade, hating the way the man was looking at him.

Unsurprisingly, Slade didn't listen. He moved Dick around the broken plate and gently pushed him towards the couch. "Go sit down. I'll clean this up."

With his breath hiccuping with sobs, Dick wasn't in the place to argue, and he really didn't feel like bending down to clean up the mess himself. He sat on the couch but continued to watch Slade as he went to open up the pantry and grabbed a broom and dustpan.

"Your due date must be getting close if you're getting this worked up over nothing," Slade unhelpfully commented as he began to sweep.

Through tears, Dick glared at him. "Well maybe I'm just tired of some weird old man not listening to me when I tell him to leave me alone."

Slade gave Dick an unimpressed look. "You've sought me out before, don't give me that." The dustpan is emptied in a trashcan before a rag was grabbed, wiping up the remainder of the mess. "Did you really just make yourself plain boiled noodles?"

"They had butter and salt..." Dick said, tensing at the judgement he felt coming from Slade. "Listen, right now I will throw up if anything has too strong of a taste or a smell." He sighed heavily, fresh tears welling up in his eyes. "And I'm out of butter." So great. Couldn't even remake the meal Slade startled him into dropping.

He could hear Slade approaching, but didn't look up at him.

"Do you want me to go to the store or pick something up?"

Dick buried his face into his hands. "I want you to leave."

"Not one of the options I just gave you," Slade said, unbothered.

One of the last things Dick wanted to do was rely on Slade. He didn't want to owe him anything, he didn't want Slade to think he was needed. But Dick knew he wouldn't be able to drag himself to the store. Shame coiled heavy in his chest at the thought of reaching out to his friends for something so dumb. Slade was already here and couldn't think any lower of him.

Shoulders drooping and hands dropping away from his face, Dick relented. "Okay."

"Store?" Slade asked, continuing when Dick nodded, "Do you need anything else?"

Dick shook his head.

"The corner store is on a few minutes walk away, go ahead and boil the noodles, I won't take long."

///

Dick had calmed down by the time Slade returned and he finally got to eat. He was too tired to shrug Slade off as he joined him on the couch. Whether he liked to admit it or not, Slade was warm and was so easy to melt into.

He jolts slightly as Slade's hand touched his swollen stomach.

"When's your due date?"

Dick sighed heavily, not lifting his head from Slade's shoulder. "She's not yours," he said instead of answering the question. To be fair, there was a nearly non-existant chance that the father was a man Dick hooked up with for a one-night stand. They used protection, but that was never 100%. However... Dick knew she was Slade's. It was barely a doubt in his mind. All he could do was pray that she'd have dark hair and look nothing like Slade. Maybe if Dick kept telling him that the baby wasn't his, he'd loose interest.

"So it's a girl?"

Dick finally lifted his head to give Slade a stern look. "Whatever the baby is doesn't concern you."

Slade met Dick's gaze unwaveringly, reaching up to brush some hair out of Dick's face. "You keep telling yourself that, kid."

Dick grimaced. "Don't call me kid."

With a muttered, half-hearted apology, his hand cupped Dick's cheek and he pulled him close. Dick knew he should push Slade away, but leaned into the kiss.

More than he liked to admit, he missed being kissed. Dating and hook-ups were obviously off the table, but Dick wanted to feel the press of another body against his own. The stroke of a hand through his hair, the warm press of lips, and the caress of calloused fingers against him.

The guilt in indulging himself and Slade caught up a couple minutes later and he broke the kiss with a sigh and a turn of his head.

"Why are you here?"

"It doesn't seem like you and the Bat have made up and you're, what, seven? Eight months pregnant?" Slade tilted his head slightly. "And I imagine you haven't told many, if any, of your friends about me, so you've likely cut yourself off from them. Someone has to check on you."

At times like this, Dick was reminded how much he hated that Slade knew him, at least just enough to be entirely correct. The only people who knew about Slade were Roy and Donna. Things were already in a rough patch with Bruce before he got pregnant.

"Do you have a contract in Blüdhaven?" Dick asked, deciding to ignore what Slade said.

"No. I'm not taking contracts in Blüdhaven or surrounding cities right now."

Dick blinked, baffled. "Why?"

"You're pregnant, you can't be Nightwing," Slade answered.

For a moment, Dick stared at Slade as if waiting for the man to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Right now was literally the perfect time to take advantage of the fact that Dick physically couldn't stop him.

But there it was. With what Slade lacked in respecting boundaries, he made up for in respecting Dick as a hero. A thorn in his side he'd never actually try to take out for reasons Dick couldn't entirely understand.

"What?"

Dick felt the urge to cry again, but this time his eyes didn't water. "Why are doing this?"

Slade huffed. "You could just say thank you." He doesn't seem particularly annoyed.

You make it hard to hate you, are the words that don't leave Dick's mouth. Slade had done unforgivable things. He's hurt him, he's hurt his friends. But they've also worked together, he's seen Slade draw lines and do good. If he were a full blooded monster, it'd be easy for Dick to hate him enough to shut him out. Maybe then Slade would take him seriously when he asked him to stay away.

It wasn't love... so why was this so hard?

[kiwibirbkat]

Yoko and Wednesday would be so sibling core???

Yoko groaned and leaned on Divina's, pouting as Divina sympathetically patted her head.

Wednesday stared at her in disgust. "What is wrong with you today, Tanaka?"

Yoko pulled Divina into her lap, cuddling up to her and putting her head on her girlfriends shoulder. "The school's out of blood and we're not allowed to hunt so we have to wait for more blood from the blood bank."

Wednesday tilted her head slightly, biting her cheek in consideration. "...Huh..."

Yoko stared at her in confusion and slight fear. "What's huh??? What does that mean??? What are you planning???"

"Nothing. Pay attention to your girlfriend."

Divina giggled and crawled out of Yoko's lap, leaving her pouting as she tried to get her teddy bear back, distracted.

Wednesday was planning.

Later

The intercom crackled on. "Um, there has been an anonymous donation of blood... For every type. So thank you our, um, anonymous donor." The principal's voice faded out as the message was done, Yoko quickly standing up and running to the infirmary after a full day without blood.

She missed the proud look in Wednesdays eyes.

Enid and Bianca didn't.

"... girl what did you do??" Bianca stared at her. Divina stopped her staring at her girlfriend to glance over at them, activating her gossip senses and crossing her legs as she tuned into their conversation.

"Nothing, Barclay. I simply made a donation." Wednesday glanced at her newly painted nails (courtesy of Enid) and picked at her cuticles, getting the fresh dirt from last night out.

Enid gently held her hand, hesitating to see if she was comfortable with it before scooting closer to her. "Willa, where exactly did you get all the blood?"

Wednesday paused, considering the least concerning answer. "... Some generous people offered to donate their blood."

Bianca snorted. "Donated? More like stood too close to you so you decided they were volunteers to bleed out."

Wednesday shook her hand in a so-so gesture.

Divina followed Bianca's lead and snorted.

Yoko reappeared, happily sipping a blood bag.

"Nothing."

"The morals of cannibalism." Bianca and Wednesday spoke at the same time. The rest of their turned to Wednesday.

"What the fuck Wednesday?"

"Addams. What was that."

"Willa when was the last time you spoke to your therapist?" Yoko, Bianca and Enid spoke respectively while Divina broke down laughing.

Wednesday put her head down on the table and grumbled "God forbid I make a joke..." Yoko raised an eyebrow but shrugged, going back to finishing her blood bag. She wiped the blood off of her face and grinned.

"Wednesdayyyyy, did you donate blood for me?" Yoko teased randomly.

"...what?" Wednesday lifted her head up, staring at her.

"One of the blood types was your blood. Was that not-? Did you not-? Did you not get blood drawn and donate it to the school?" Yoko stammered to explain, watching as their heads slowly turned to Wednesday.

"Babe. Did you donate your own blood? I thought you just donated others blood! Are you ok, are you hurt, are you..." Enid trailed off and pouted at her as Yoko stared in confusion.

"What's happening?" Divina sighed and patted Yoko's hand.

"Wednesday donated all of the blood, not just her own."

"Oh. Oh? OH! I... Should've expected that, to be honest."

Wednesday rolled her eyes as a laugh track played in the background and the screen faded to black.