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hyunjiiza · 3 months ago

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ꕀ ✸ dance your heart ‹𝟹 (and mine) away ༶

【d-a-n-c-e ୨୧】 𓏲 when 𝑒𝘯𝘩𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘯 members meet (and crush on) their new choreographer , you ◠ .ᐟ 𝓌.𝒸 ◌ 𝟷𝟼𝟷𝟸 ㄑ𝑝𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ᛝ ot7 ! 𝓍 gender neutral! reader ⢄cont. | reader can dance , first time meetings - mentions of mistreatment (super vague), reader gets called pretty / cute ᝰ library

❥ 𝒾𝘴𝘢’𝘴 note ꕀ | hi guys !! my first time writing for enha so im a little nervous but i think its okay, i might do a part two as a smau or something where you actually start dating! first post in a while that isn’t a re up load .. i got a burst of motivation so im taking advantage ,, also i started watching dahmer and i like how it was filmed and how they portray everything so if you’re into that kind of stuff i recommend giving it a watch !! happy reading

ʚ ni-ki ɞ

definitely thrown off guard when they’re promised a new choreographer and someone his type walks in

subtly tries to get to know more about you while making it seem like he’s just being nice

has to debate going extra hard to impress you or acting stuck to get your help

“can you maybe do it with me? or can i watch you do it first??”

all the other members notice and make fun of him but they like you too so they’re unintentionally wingmen

jungwon convinces you to hang out with all of them and seats you and niki together (everyone can tell what he’s doing)

he legit goes red and stiff as a board when you sit next to him even though he tries so hard to be nonchalant and cool

works up the courage to ask to have a one on one session to work on new choreo

spoiler: it’s awkward because he’s shitting bricks

“so.. do you have a boyfriend..”

“you couldn’t ask me that after i got out of a handstand”

ʚ jungwon ɞ

is plotting on you the MOMENT you introduce yourself

what initially draws him to you is the way you’re insistent on making the dance room a safe space for them

takes full advantage of the fact that he’s the leader and is always hogging you

late nights together: making new choreography, learning new tricks, drafting stretches and vocal exercises to do while working out, laughing and laying together flat back on the cool dance floor. this is when he really starts understanding his feelings for you.

watches the way you interact with all the other boys to determine if he really wants to go for it or not

asks you to stay after practice one day and you genuinely think you’re about to get fired but he just walks out of the room and then back in with flowers and a pretty flush to his face

“ithinkyou’rereallyprettyandireallyreallywannatakeyouonadatepleasesayyes ..?”

“uh.. what?”

ʚ sunoo ɞ

wasn’t even listening when the company told the group they were getting a new choreographer so when you walk into the room and introduce yourself he takes it as a blessing

he does actually get a little stuck sometimes and is prepared to be scolded but when you just explain it slower for him he falls hard

once you settle into a comfortable rhythm with the whole group he recruits jungwon to ask about your love life, your type and if you wanna date someone

convinces you to stay with him after practice to “take his instagram pictures” but really just wants to have alone time with you

doesn’t really know how to ask you out so he just gradually gets you to go out with him more and more

facetimes you saying he has questions but just makes you stay on the phone with him while he does skincare and falls asleep

“you bought this for me?? it’s really expensive !”

“i’m bribing you. will you go out with me?”

ʚ sunghoon ɞ

nervous when they’re all waiting to meet you, (even though it’s literally not a big deal he’s just weird.) definitely bouncing his leg up and down

cusses up a storm in his head when he realizes he’s gonna have to work with you and his heart is definitely not gonna be able to handle that

messes up because he gets distracted staring at you

convinces jungwon to ask if you can be there for filming because he likes your presence

catches you practicing before actual practice starts and scares the shit out of you bc he’s just there staring at you

wants to die when you fall out of what you were doing and trip

cringes at himself and goes to help you get up with his stupidly muscly arms

“i’m so sorry..” while he’s still holding you and doesn’t realize he can let you go now til you start laughing

bonus: let’s you go and you fall again and then he falls to the floor laughing with you

“your laugh is cute”

“you’re cute”

“yeah. wait what?!”

ʚ jake ɞ

thinks he’s being nonchalant about his crush but stares at you the whole time they practice

gets really into the dance and makes stupid faces and is really embarrassed after

convinces you to go get food with him after a super long practice and you end up talking for hours about everything

it’s great, until you realize you walked there. and the other members left him.. and your car is currently getting a tire replaced

gets an uber with you to your house, walks you to the door, and then the uber leaves him because he thinks he’s going there too 😭

he’s actually really embarrassed and thinks you think he’s stupid but he gets heeseung to come get him and you let him in and make him play uno with you

heeseung comes! to save the day!! he also gets stuck playing uno ..

everyone falls asleep on your couch

you and jake end up waking up together in the morning and make breakfast together like you’re parents

gentle grabs of the waist from behind, grabbing things from top shelves for you, maybe even a kiss up against the counter

“are you guys fucking making out? and what is that smell??”

“the eggs :(“

safe to say all three of you do the walk of shame into the practice room after breakfast

ʚ jay ɞ

literally doesn’t care that they’re getting a new choreographer

until you walk in

“bro who is that??” “the new choreographer?? who else dumbfuck??”

literally acts like an outstanding citizen. does NOT let you catch him lacking.

cleans up, buys everyone snacks from the vending machine, if you need a volunteer he’s there

everyone laughs at him because they can tell he’s just trying to impress you, so they come up with a master plan to also act like him so he has to step it up

he almost throws a brick at jungwon when he starts getting you your favorite drink before every practice, looking him directly in the eye every time he hands it to you and you smile

“i can take you out and stuff. like we can go out together you know?? and get you more than drinks. if you want..”

(while he’s red in the face)

ʚ heeseung ɞ

is the most skeptical about someone new coming in, so your first session after meeting he’s just watching you

someone messes up and you jokingly say “everyone drop and give me 100” and they actually start and you’re just like what the hell

when you’re like “guys please i was kidding” everyone is also like what the hell bc they thought you were fr

he thinks the concerned look on your face is so cute he isn’t even embarrassed about dropping to the floor instantly

you make NO jokes after that and everyone feels bad (including you)

jake suggests you all go out for ice cream to break the ice (haha)

heeseung runs over to the seat next to you

you get the same flavor and he’s silently coming up with baby names bc he’s convinced it’s fate

once everyone starts laughing together you rest your head on his shoulder without noticing and he creams his pants and leans his head on top of yours

“get a room” -niki. followed by a smack

𖨂 tag | @cosmicalily @0sunshinecryptid0 @jinnieboosworld @lixies-favorite-cookie @zelinkcrossing @hwanqluvs @eastjonowhere @nxtt2-u @pixie-felix @smlbch @tricky-ritz @yaniluvs @pigeonseatmayo @transparentheartcollection @4ng3l-ch1ld | 【༝༚ 】 @hyunjiiza 7:07

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miyaz6ki · 1 year ago

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☆ ❝ 𝐢-𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫. ❞ ⋆ hsr x reader

synopsis. taking your v-card woahh!!!1!!!

warnings. virgin!reader, mirror fucking (or wtv its called, blade's prt), making out (jing yuan's part), nsfw and sex in general idk what else to warn u abt

author's note. bad writing alert barf ew!, also to the people calling me lyn or sea in my inbox i think you guys are funny /pos lol

pairings. blade, jing yuan, luocha, gepard.

blade likes the idea of him being your first. especially about how innocent you are, it turns him on!! corruption kink go crazy, and definitely when he sees you so dumb on his cock. type of guy to tell you that your hole is made for him, because it is! the way you take him so well.. and especially when it's the first cock you'd ever bounce on?! waa please it makes him so horny, makes him just want even more of you!! his long-lasting stamina doesn't help you out at all from endless rounds of your poor overstimulated hole. the pretty little claw marks on his back from fucking you makes him proud when he looks up to see them in the mirror, he's the first person to ever make you do that, why wouldn't he be proud?

jing yuan falls in love all over again when he hears you are a virgin. so incredibly happy and smug to be your first. it's up to you if you want it to be vanilla or rough, just forever proud to be someone as precious as you's first. start out probably with a makeout session! probably real messy with it, and slowly his kisses trace down somewhere else.. gives head so well :33, does it messily on purpose and he gladly show off his cum covered tongue and swallow your load infront of you!! the loudest sounds ever too.. especially when he got you bent over his desk just all wet and ready to take in his cock, and letting his cock, be the first inside you!!

luocha.. hmm.. will make your first the best, will treat you right with his huge cock, probably mostly vanilla, depends when you mentioned to him that you're a virgin, i guess? just takes it slow with you, it's your first time so, he wants to make it at least somewhat romantic, and something you can remember and label it pleasuring. makes sure your pleasure come first. out of everything it's you who matters the most to him, but.. if you really want your first time to be something that you really couldn't walk over, sure. he'll be rough as hell, just if you ask, but when he's really into the moment, you won't be able to slow him down, and will go as rough as he wants to. remembers to sort of apologize after that though.. help

gepard probably is also a virgin, but it isn't uncommon for him to go lowkey rough. still remembers you are his biggest priority, in terms of pleasure, and in general. just wants you to feel good, let his cock be the first to make you feel like that. probably the kind of guy that jerked off to this kind of moment. just you using his cock for your own pleasure, but he knows you wouldn't really be the type of person to do that. probably that kind of guy to put you into a mating press and just vent out his frustration from work all into thrusting his mean cock into your overstimulated hole!

i'll probably make a part 2 of this soon !!

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vetitiscripta · 2 years ago

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some sfw and nsfw headcanons for tpof ren please🦊🙏🏻 instantly fell in love with your writing and craving the foxy dilf

oh anon you’re so sweet, i’m glad you like my writing! AND YOU MAY ABSOLUTELY HAVE DILF REN HEADCANONS I AM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES FOR THAT MAN I AM BARKING LIKE A DOG

sfw

he lets you run your fingers over his scars, tracing them. if he’s feeling up to it, he’ll even tell you the story behind them

still a big anime fan so on his days off he likes to just relax with you and do anime marathons

since ren lives in different apartments, of course you go with him when he moves locations. he found an apartment by the bunker to stay in while you were recovering. traveling while you have multiple open wounds seems like a hassle so he figured it would just be easier to get a place nearby

YOU ARE SO SPOILED!! anything you want, its yours. you once mentioned how you miss all the games you had and you woke up the next morning to just about every new gaming console under the tv, already plugged in and games loaded on them. sometimes you have to be careful with what you offhandedly mention wanting because he will get it for you (he just likes seeing you happy, he lives for your smile)

once you are trusted with being outside (something that took quite a while for you to earn), he will absolutely take you out and about in town just to A) show you off and B) take you on shopping trips. he 100% has a black card. ANYTHING YOU WANT, YOU GET! that sweater is $1500? sure, get one in every color. you like the glass elephant that is made purely of crystal? it can be a decorative piece on the dining table

despite how spoiled you are, you are not free from being punished. you don’t get punished as much anymore, but at the beginning of your relationship, you defied him, hoping that you could get away (either running away or by death, you didn’t care at that point). ren has been through his fair share of punishments, he’s told you such; he knows how to leave a memorable punishment to help you understand. he’s also not above bringing out the shock collar in case the punishments aren’t enough

but after every punishment, he always cleans you up and cuddles with you, stroking your hair as you cry into his chest. depending on how far in the relationship it is, he can feel bad for punishing you but he knows that it’s to help you behave and understand

before you’re trusted to be left alone in the apartments, he’ll bring you with him to the bunker when he’s streaming. the first time you realized where you were, you almost threw up from the pure panic that spread through you. ren cupped your face and kissed you to help calm you down, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find how absolutely terrified you were adorable. while he’s streaming you are left in the hands of rhino and kangaroo, who you have come to enjoy and consider friends (or at least as close to friends as you can get in your now abnormal life)

ren once considered getting you a pet to keep you company when you’re alone but he quickly discarded the idea due to how jealous he would be. you are his and your full attention should be on him. he might consider something super low maintenance like a goldfish (you would have to beg him for it though because he would still be jealous what a loser)

i personally think that ren would want a family. its not an intense urge he has, not something he thinks about 24/7, but he thinks about it every so often and how nice it would be (he’s also not getting any younger). ren is very fucked up (from both trauma and who he is as a person now) and it might not happen, but he still thinks about it, especially with you. its very cheesy of him to say, but he knows you’re the one. when he’s really going through it and feeling down, he wonders if what you have is real, if you truly love him or if it’s all for show to just survive (you always tell him that if it was just for show you wouldn’t be so willing to be around him and probably would have killed yourself early on babe your stockholm syndrome is showing)

nsfw (under the cut)

cliché but ren likes to bite during sex. he gets rather caught up in the moment and tasting you really gets him going

his heats can be pretty intense. his more clingy side comes out when he’s in heat and he will not leave you alone. from the moment you wake up until you fall asleep for the night (if you sleep during his heat), he has you in different positions and his dick is always inside you. even if you have to get up for something, he is following you, basically piggybacking you with how close he is

while you probably don’t appear in streams anymore, ren will occasionally film you two fucking. he teases you by telling you that you’re live and everyone is watching or that he’ll upload it for his fans later (a lie, you’re for his eyes only now but he does love how flush you get and how you beg him to turn the camera off)

this is already canon but ren loves seeing you in cute, frilly lingerie. there is nothing he loves more than to buy you an expensive lingerie set and have you show it off to him, only for him to rip it off of you within seconds. if he really likes the piece he’ll fuck you in the lingerie and will have you wear it again

phone sex while he’s away. every night he’ll call you just to listen to you get yourself off while he talks you through it. he’s fisting his cock during it as well, but he loves guiding you through it more. he has to make sure you don’t miss him too much. sometimes he’ll cut the call short and will wait for the spam of calls and texts from you as you beg him to call you again so you can cum. if you don’t get to call, he’ll demand you send pictures/videos. anything will do: shirtless pics, videos of you fingering yourself. he keeps everything you send him in a special folder on his phone that he turns to when he needs a quick dose of you

loves teasing you in public. fancy restaurant on the nice end of town? ren has his hand in your pants while the two of you talk over a split dessert (well, he’s talking. you’re trying to not moan out loud in the middle of the restaurant). is not afraid to drag you into an alley and push you to your knees, cock springing out as he tells you to open your mouth. he’s not worried about anyone seeing but if they do he’ll either throw a smirk their way if you’re hidden from their sight or, if you’re not hidden, he’ll remember what they look like and will seek them out later for a ‘friendly chat’ (you are for his eyes only)

BREEDING KINK!!! following my whole ‘ren wants a family’ thing, he def has a breeding kink. even if his intention isn’t to knock you up, he talks like it is. talks about cumming inside you and how good you would look all round and full of his pups. you moan at his words, too drunk on his cock to reply or think about what he’s saying. you’d ask him to cum inside you, begging him to fill you with his cum. he’s also definitely the type to push his cum back into you as it leaks out. (for my ladies: he’ll definitely put a pillow beneath your hips to help the chances if he’s feeling spicy)

#anon ask #i have many thought and opinions (and thots) about tpof ren he is so BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK #god i hope i didnt write him too uwu i try to do the btd/tpof characters justice but ya know #the price of flesh #ren hana #tpof fox #ren hana x reader #smut

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 years ago

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AITA for not having time to read my mutual's writing?

Met a mutual on here, bonded through fanfic, have been tight with them for a few years with pretty much no bumps in the relationship, just overall had a really good time hanging around them when I could. We both write a lot and share our writing, and occasionally we talk about that writing/workshop it in passing.

In the past few years I've gone through a ton of life changes. Most notably I went from a multi-person household to a single-person one, and I've been living alone in a prohibitively costly city for a while now working 40 hour weeks and barely scraping by. As soon as the transition started I spent the last of my free income on a shitty little laptop so I could still write, putting down words on my bus/train commutes in the morning and quite literally writing on my breaks at work because I feel insane when I can't create. I bring this up to really stress that I don't have the time for the hobby, I force myself to make the time and even then it never feels like enough.

The only thing I can really stand to do with my 3 hours of free time at night is hang out with my moots online. I'm an extrovert so being around people recharges me. If I don't have designated social time I get super depressed and can pretty much feel my soul withering away. I also feel like I should probably mention that I kinda have a slew of mental issues, personality disorders and PTSD and AuDHD and the works. Point being, shit is rough my dude, but I am a person who likes to work hard and face challenges head on and even though we strugglin, we doing it with a positive outlook.

But! I am an incredibly solution-oriented person and I have found what I personally believe to be a good balance. No one should have to live like this, but I do, and I have found a way to be happy. My writing and my social time is all load-bearing. It is not something I just choose to do on a whim, it's all planned and scheduled and I adhere to those routines very strictly because, I cannot stress this enough, I will go fucking bonkers if I don't.

I'm mutuals with a lot of writers obv, and I sadly don't have time to read their work anymore, unless I get some extra time on my days off or something gets cancelled or like, I end up taking a vacation. I carry a great amount of guilt for this, though, even though I logically know it's reasonable. I try to support them where I can, cheer them on when I see them writing and tell them how cool their ideas sound, hype them up even when I can't actually read & review.

One of the things I do is sometimes I leave a kudos on fic I haven't read. I'm not trying to be ingenuine, and if they asked me I'd tell them like 'Oh I didn't read it yet, just wanted to show support!' but to me it's kinda like ripping a paper tab off a poster so that other's feel inclined to do the same. Plus my pals get a little email and a hit of serotonin.

Except one of my acquaintances, the one I mentioned at the start here, saw that I left kudos on a couple pieces another mutual of mine wrote this year. They more or less blew up my DMs with a ton of accusatory (like, literally presented like a 'GOTCHA!') stuff about how I was selective in who's fic I read, more or less implying that I secretly held some sort of grudge or negative feeling toward them and was making the conscious decision not to read or interact with their writing because of. Something, I don't actually know what they were trying to say. They also told me they vented to their friends about this MULTIPLE times, but they never once approached me to let me know they were feeling paranoid or neglected, they literally just took the most bad faith reading of it possible and then presented that to me like it was something I intentionally did, while the whole time I was unaware.

I tried to explain to them the kudos thing, that I didn't do it to every story, just ones I caught/noticed in my busy schedule. And I laid all this out and asked, multiple times, what free time am I supposed to read with? They didn't answer, and doubled down, kept trying to show me 'proof' that I was shorting them and no one else. Once they started to realize how wrong they were they backed down, but they didn't really apologize, or admit they were wrong, and they tried to end our relationship and left every single server we were in together. Because of some other unrelated stuff going on in my life, I didn't really consider them to be a close friend, but they were someone I really held dear and would've walked through hell for if they'd asked.

I still feel like there is something I'm missing here, and that's why I wanted to ask if I'm TA. I'm a pretty good communicator but one of the things I told myself when talking down my disordered thoughts (guilt about this prior) was "no one in their right mind would use reading fanfic as a metric for friendship." Now that I've had that exact thing happen, I'm starting to think maybe those thoughts weren't so disordered. Maybe this IS a big deal, and I should think about it more, but I don't even know what the solution to that would be. I just. Don't have time to read something lovingly crafted and appreciate it for what it is. All the hours in my week are used up, I'd have to lose sleep for this and with my mental health the way it is that is not an option.

Feel free to be a brutal, my skin is thick. Thanks!

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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yvesssssssss · 1 month ago

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oooooo got an idea for a request

Shin with a massive crush on reader but at the same time doesn’t know if he should pursue since they’re coworkers?

also thank you for feeding the community with your writing!! very tasty 10/10

Crush? What Crush? (Totally Just Coworkers)

Sorry it took long, let me know if it didn’t quite hit the mark—I’d be happy to adjust or take another shot at it!

Working at the Sakamoto store had its fair share of chaos—customers who couldn’t decide between miso or soy sauce, Sakamoto himself communicating only through grunts and finger gestures, and Lu somehow balancing an entire crate of produce on one hand while sipping her boba with the other.

And then there was you.

You weren’t loud, or flashy, or a trained killer like the rest of them, but somehow… Shin was constantly thrown off his game around you.

You were just nice. You had this calm, easygoing presence that made even the busiest days feel less hectic. Whether it was the way you restocked shelves with a little hum under your breath or how you always packed Sakamoto’s lunch with a tiny post-it smiley face—Shin was doomed from day one.

He was smitten. Utterly. Pathetically.

But he was also your coworker.

Which, in his mind, was Problem #1.

---

“Hey, Shin,” you called one afternoon, peeking your head into the back room. “Can you help me with the crates? Lu said you’ve got muscles now.”

Shin nearly dropped the broom he was holding. “Wha—I mean, yeah! I guess! I do have muscles!” he said a little too quickly. “Yup. Definitely. Huge ones.”

You blinked. Then smiled.

And Shin wanted to curl into a ball.

He followed you to the loading area, telling himself not to overthink. She’s just being nice. It’s not flirting. Even if it kinda felt like flirting. But it’s not. Probably.

He stacked the crates like his life depended on it, barely registering your soft laugh as you teased him about overdoing it.

“You know, I could’ve handled the smaller ones,” you said, standing close—too close—and brushing your sleeve against his arm. “But I guess it’s nice having a partner with big muscles.”

Shin forgot how to breathe for a second. “O-oh. Yeah. Cool. Good. M-muscle teamwork.”

Smooth. Really smooth.

---

He spent the next few days trying to act normal. Unfortunately, “normal” for Shin meant either awkwardly avoiding eye contact or staring into space mid-conversation because he forgot he could read your thoughts. And oh god—your thoughts were never mean. They were always kind. Sweet. Curious.

And occasionally laced with things like:

“Shin looks cute today.”

Or,

“I wonder if he’d want to hang out sometime… Nah. He probably wouldn’t want to.”

Which made Shin short-circuit behind the register more than once.

He wasn’t sure what to do with that. Did you actually like him? Should he make a move? What if it ruined everything? What if Sakamoto found out and started grilling him with that soul-piercing dad stare?

Still, the idea stuck with him. You liked him. Maybe.

Maybe enough to say yes if he asked you to dinner.

Just as coworkers, of course. Totally casual. Totally chill.

Right?

So one night, after closing up the store, Shin hovered by the entrance where you were wiping down the glass doors. His heart was hammering like he was about to disarm a bomb.

“Hey,” he started, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I was thinking... I mean, if you’re free sometime... maybe we could get dinner? Like, just the two of us.”

You blinked. Slowly set down the rag.

He braced himself for rejection, or teasing, or the awkward “oh! as coworkers, right?”

But instead, you smiled, soft and sweet. “I’d love that.”

Shin blinked. “Wait—seriously?”

You laughed. “Yeah. I mean, I like you, Shin.”

He felt like the floor fell out from under him—but in a good way. In a really good way.

He tried to play it cool. Failed. “O-oh. Cool. I—I like you too. A lot. Like, too much, probably. I’ve been thinking about this for—actually never mind. That’s—uh. Great.”

You giggled as you walked past him, brushing his arm again. “Pick me up at seven?”

And as Shin stood there, dazed and full of butterflies, Sakamoto passed by and gave him a thumbs up—without a word.

Somehow, that was the most terrifying part of all.

#sakamoto days shin asakura #sakamoto days shin #shin asakura x reader #shin x reader #shin #shin asakura #sakadays #sakamoto days x reader #sakamoto days

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tactical-jellyfish · 5 months ago

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Watcher 1-1

Part 3!!

Warnings!: The 141 will be criminally stupid, fumblers, all of them. Death (canon-typical), Violence (canon-typical), loss of limb (no, I won't tell you who yet >:), but I will cover the symptoms as well as possible) They do get kissy, but no smut (that I'm writing, but it's very much implied).

Also, bonus note for the special day!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!! I hope none of you are reading this on release because MAN you should be having a good time right now <3

You've never been trained so hard in your whole life.

Granted, yeah, Laswell warned you it would be brutal, but this is more than brutal, this is murder.

Four miles of running, then a full round of strength training, and there was still more to do.

Maybe the only good thing about this is that, as much as you're suffering, so is everyone else.

Soap tugged you up the final wall on the obstacle course, Kyle passed you his water bottle when yours ran empty (You would have proposed right then and there, if you'd only had a ring). Ghost did this weird blinking thing once, you're not sure what it was about, but it felt reassuring to you. Price just watched.

Now, you've worked with men before (shocker), but there is one trick of their you've never been able to shake.

The playful teasing they did to rile you up, talked down like they were just a little bit better. It always worked.

Johnny figured it out remarkably fast, early in your sparring match. Kyle was sparring Ghost. Price watched over your form like you would spontaneously combust.

"Issat really all ye've got, firecracker?"

You know he's trying to tease you, you know. Still, it lights a fire under your ass like no other, makes you duck under his swing and meet it with a jab to the gut.

Johnny's a big man. That's no issue, really, but the way he stands is, rooted to the floor like a tree, too stable to just swing for the legs.

But, fortune does favor the bold.

"C'mon, rooks, let me see all that skill Laswell talked about-"

Maybe that's why, as you circle around him one more time, instead of playing it safe, chipping at his stamina until he's too tired to really fight you off, you load all your strength into your legs and launch your body into Johnny's.

It sends the pair of you crashing to the mats, and before the Scot can think any better, you're on top of him and snarling down at his stupid, mohawked face as you gather his wrists into your hands, knowing damn well the leather of your gloves is digging into tanned, sweaty skin.

"Maybe you'd still be up if you knew how to shut that big mouth of yours, MacTavish."

You don't know who's speaking, but, in that moment, you're not fully sure it's you.

It's met with a hard buck of Johnny's hips, his feet flat on the mat as he tried to dislodge you. Cheap trick, not enough to catch you off your guard.

Maybe you're some sort of inept, but you don't see the way the tips of his ears are turning a reddish color, or hear the way his breath catches in his throat like the inside of his esophagus is suddenly closing in on itself when you slam your hips back down over his, keeping him pinned to the mat in an act of sheer defiance.

"Stay down."

There is nothing more fun than being the one who calls the shots after a good spar, It's endlessly satisfying to lock your free hand around his throat, only barely squeeze down on either side.

Yeah, yeah, you've not actually strangling your co-worker, but to Johnny it must feel that way.

His breaths are ragged beneath your hand, tired to the point that he can't steady the ins and outs anymore. It makes your feral grin soften a little, to something more sympathetic.

He's also tired, you remember. He's also pretty new to this team, he's your peer now. With that thought, you don't press him for a clear submission or formal surrender, you spare his pride and stand, with his body between your legs, and offer your hand.

Johnny swallows, but he grins widely, and takes it into his own.

He's not wearing gloves, that's the single cursory note your brain makes before you realize that he's only inches away from you, smiling and looking at you with warmed, bright blue eyes, panting a little faster than before.

"Tha's... feck, yer better than I thought you'd be, Firecracker."

Johnny says it differently this time, like it's your title now, but that thought is cut by him quickly stepping away, saying a couple words to Ghost, and getting a curt nod in turn before he scurries off to where you think the bathrooms are.

Before you really have the time to question that, Kyle is at your side, offering a playful smile.

"He's right, you know. Bold, but not bad." A stupidly pretty London accent rings into your ears, makes you tense for a second before realizing who's behind you.

Maybe this is the first time you've looked at Kyle this close, but you think you know why he doesn't talk as much as Johnny.

It would be unfair to the competition.

That thought makes you shake your head, try to clear the rancid thought from your skull. Co-workers. You're gonna watch this guy kill people, don't get hot and bothered about it.

"You think so?"

"Mhm. Always good to see someone get a little gnarly. Though Soap appreciates it much more than I do, I'm sure."

It's that moment that you recognize Kyle is teasing you, when he playfully pats your shoulder with a warm hand, shuffles just a tad closer to your side and watches as a smile breaks across your face.

That's the moment when Price nods, but you don't see it. Kyle doesn't either.

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

#x reader #tf 141 x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #x gn reader #angst #kate laswell #laswell cod #implied neurodivergent reader

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bunji-enthusiast · 1 year ago

Note

Scuttling back in to say;

YOU MAKE ME WANNA WRITE MORE STUFF SO BADDDDD ITS SO GOOD

Would there possibly be room for a Dogday & Catnap scenario where reader came in sick, because they simply refuse to take sick days, and those giants just hate seeing them like that and just take care/help with work?

Keep up the good work buddy, I LOVE EATING READING IT

Gentle Giants

Note || AHA- thank you!

WC || 1,152

Sypnosis || your fuzzy companion refuses to let you overwork yourself, even in sickness.

CatNap –

You had him CONCERNED, and he doesn’t feel like that rarely for anyone else. Right off the bat when you come into work he can tell you are sick, he voices his concerns with Bobby who he thought of having good advice for a situation like this. She had suggested that he help take the load off of your workload at least, as you were stubborn and proclaim you can do work all by yourself.

CatNap didn’t want you to ever accidentally hurt yourself, seeing as how you will go to every corner of the factory to get your duties done – even if you had some work to do as a caretaker, just a temporary one. He decided that he had enough of it, seeing as how you’d only get worse when you're working.

Halfway through your shift, he decided to intervene, picking you up around the waist and laying you on his back despite your many protests to leave you alone. CatNap retorted with an audible snort, refusing to relent against your words. He’s seen what happens to employees when they come in sick, not taking a sick day off. No way would he allow that to happen to you. You simply were far too precious to CatNap, you were; kind, patient and gentle with him, despite his many times that he had treated you a little… rudely.

The insomniac cat thought it would be best to bring you to his sleeping place, clean and unmarked of his scratches (though save for the few claw marks here and there against the walls). His stretchy tail had elongated far enough to pick you up by the waist again, which in hindsight did startle you a little as you had gotten used to being on his back for a long period of time. Gently, CatNap settled you on his bed, promptly laying you down in the proper position as if he had done this all before – with children, of course he’d have this experience to do so. You were tired, lethargic, simply just flopping against the orange mattress and finding comfort in how springy and just comforting it was.

Truth be told, he did admit to snatching you away. Only to another employee who asked where you were, they were understanding once he had pointed out you were sick. People needed rest after all, and the employee knew you were quite the stubborn type. CatNap had finally returned with a blanket that was draped over his shoulder, and a bucket of water he held in his mouth alongside the rotund rag that laid at the silver edge top of the bucket. He had steady motions, setting down the bucket that was hanging from his mouth beside the large mattress bed. Soon enough, he had also finally covered you with the blanket, quiet enough as to not wake you as he had seen you fall asleep in his absence.

At first, he wasn’t sure what to do with the rag, just sitting there at the top of the bucket. But soon enough he had found a solution. CatNap had found one of the brand new fresh miniature smiling critters, who was alive like he was and filled the rag with water, then laid it across your forehead.

CatNap was glad, though he knew the process of having to wet the rag over and over again as it can get dry after some time.

DogDay –

Cuddly, protective and very stern when needed. DogDay was happy at first to see you coming to work again, but overtime it became less of happiness and more so concerned as he began to realize you were most likely sick. He took his thoughts to Bubba, as he knew him to be smart and informative for the most part. Bubba had told him you just were most likely sick, knowing how you didn’t like taking sick days off even if you really truly were sick.

DogDay needed a plan, action to help lessen the load on your shoulders. He won’t stand for the fact that you are working actively while being sick at the same time, heck even a dog like him knew this! He wanted you to get some proper rest, but how was he actually gonna be able to do so? But as ever, DogDay remained to be looking on the bright side of this as he asked Bubba once again what he should do. Bubba was very smart in comparison to him, he wasn’t that well informed with sickness himself.

Bubba had suggested that he take half of your workload at least, so he went exactly to do that, people had eyed him for his weird out of place appearance outside of where one usually would find him. He didn’t really care for it, just continuing to do your work load without your knowledge. When you had gone to do your other duties, you were waved off, confused as to why – they had told you someone had already done it all for you.

You were practically already done with your work for the whole day, you had a sneaking suspicion that you knew who had done half the work load for you. When you went to confront DogDay, he had admitted under the weight of your glare, saying he had done the other 50% of your work because you were sick. You were surprised to say the least, touched at the thought he did it because he knew you were sick. But you never told him, which raised a few brows from you.

“Aha, angel.. Dogs can be good at noticing things better than humans normally do.” He said with a tinge of nervousness. You sighed, walking up to hug him despite the vast differences in size that was comparable between you and DogDay. He was elated to know you weren’t angry, bending down to hug you, finally he had you trapped. DogDay picked you up, which had elicited a yelp from you, feeling he had now carried you bridal-style.

DogDay had insisted you needed rest, taking you with him as you relented to his insistence. Truly he was a leader and a friend till the end.

Both –

When the both of them team up, there is no way you are getting away with working while you're sick. They both reassure each other what they are doing is okay, they both care about you very much. CatNap just kind of drags you away, bringing you to his bed while DogDay had walked alongside him, checking your forehead for how hot your fever may be.

Luckily, DogDay slipped away while CatNap had set you up to be in a comfortable position while you were sleeping. DogDay came back with a bucket of water and a rag to administer to keep your fever down as much as possible.

With these two, you practically have nothing to worry about.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime dogday #catnap poppy playtime #catnap

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carlottawllms · 1 year ago

Text

Can't Be Mine

Mason Mount x Reader Angst / Fluff Italics = Flashback

Author’s note: I’m back. Kinda at least. Like I explained before I’m currently in struggle city and have no clue how to get out of it…I’ve been wanting to write this trope for as long as I can remember and after a quick chat with my lovely Loz @mountttmase, I eventually managed to be inspired enough to write this.

I hope you’ll like it! As always, feedback is very much appreciated. Especially now that I’m finding myself in a bit of a slump. Thank you, love you loads! 🩷

When your alarm went off at 6am, you weren't half as annoyed as you usually would be and, against all human nature, you jumped out of bed and into the shower, a soft hum of a song, that was stuck in your head, following you.

You weren't a morning person, far from it in fact, as you normally needed at least an hour and a coffee to function properly, but after yesterday you felt like all the happiness of the earth had gathered in your heart.

“I really don’t think I want to say goodbye yet.”, you pouted, feeling genuinely sad you’d reached your front door. The date that was just about to end had been the best you’d been on in a while, and you hated how these past few hours had basically flown by.

“Neither do I, but it’s late and I don’t want you to be grumpy tomorrow morning and annoy your colleagues.” Mason flicked your nose lovingly and the way you scrunched it had his heart squeezing in his chest. You were too adorable for your own good.

“I know.”, you sighed. “I genuinely enjoyed today a lot, Mase. Thank you.” You squeezed his hand that had been wrapped around yours ever since he’d helped you out of his car.

“No need to thank me. I enjoyed it just as much.”, he smiled. “And I’d love to see you again.”

When you simply nodded in confirmation, a blush coating the tops of your cheeks, Mason leaned down. For a second you thought he was going in for a kiss on the lips, something that for you felt a little hasty, but you soon felt his lips pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Good night, y/n.” The soft smile he sent your way had the butterflies in your tummy going mad. Especially as halfway to his car, he looked back and waved again, chuckling when you did the same.

It was insane how quickly this man had you falling for him.

And with that memory basically engraved into your mind, the drive to your office wasn’t half as annoying as it usually was.

It wasn’t that you hated your job. Quite the opposite actually and up until this day you still couldn’t believe you’d manage to land a job at Manchester United.

Back then, it had actually just been a silly ‘bet’ between you and your dad. Towards the end of your time at university, you’d been looking at several job offers and companies, unsure of where to apply and one day, a job offer at the football club had come up.

You’d laughed if off, saying they wouldn’t take you anyway so there would be no use to put time and effort in an application, but your dad being your dad had insisted they would. So in an attempt to prove your point, you’d applied anyway and to your biggest surprise, they’d invited you for a first interview.

And even after the years you’d spent working for them already, you still enjoyed every single day with your colleagues.

“Morning.”, you smiled brightly as you entered your shared office. Your work bestie Anna was already comfortably working away. She looked up from her keypad, obviously a little confused by your good mood this early in the day.

“You look awfully happy, y/n. Something you want to tell me?” Anna took a sip from her coffee and leaned back in her chair; her watchful eyes following your every move in hopes to figure out what had happened.

“No.”, you grinned. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You got some last night!”, she exclaimed, causing you to shush her instantly. The door was closed, but obviously nothing was soundproof, and you didn’t need this week’s rumours to include you.

“No, I didn’t, Anna.” You rolled your eyes when she sighed dramatically. “But I did go on a date.”

Your colleague and friend gasped in surprise. After years of sharing an office with you, she could recall the times you’d actually gone out with someone on one hand and you admitting it on a random Tuesday morning hadn’t been on her bingo card at all.

“No way, I didn’t think I’d ever see the day. You have to tell me everything! Like…what did you do? How was it? Who is he?”

You laughed at how excited she was and it somehow warmed your heart. She really was a great friend, and you knew she’d always have your back and be excited with you. Just like you’d been when she’d told you that she’d got engaged a few weeks back.

“It was pretty much perfect.”, you admitted, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. “He was an absolute sweetheart and gentlemen. We actually went for a walk with his dog first – he’s super cute by the way – and then grabbed some take away on our way back and spent the evening at his and-”

“You went to a stranger’s house for a first date? y/n, are you crazy? That’s bloody dangerous and-”

“Obviously I didn’t, you know me, Anna.”, you laughed, only now clocking on to how weird it sounded to go home with a stranger. You quickly unpacked your bag and sat down, finally taking a sip from your coffee as well. “He’s like…a friend of a friend, so I knew him before and neither of us wanted to sit in a restaurant, so we went over to his.”

“Pff, I’m relieved, not gonna lie. Thought I had to get your head straight or something. But that sounds so relaxed and laid-back. What’s his name?”

“It’s erm…Cameron.”

When Anna raised her eyebrow sceptically, you knew your answer had come out too hesitant in an attempt to find a name that wasn’t Mason. “Are you sure, love?”

“Yes, sorry, I was just thinking about yesterday.”, you chuckled, dropping your head to avoid her seeing your red cheeks. “His name is definitely Cameron.”

Before either of you could keep the conversation going, Steven, head of media department, popped into your office and you could tell by the look on his face that he hadn’t come for a normal chat.

“Morning girls, it’s short notice, my apologies, but there’s going to be a meeting in conference room no. 2 in ten minutes. Make sure you’re on time please.”

Anna and you exchange a meaningful and equally worried look the second Steven had left again. Unannounced meetings usually didn't bode well and for some reason you had an extremely bad gut feeling today.

After all, a high was usually followed by a low. And this week's high had undoubtedly been yesterday.

“I wonder what that could be about.”, Anna mumbled as she gathered her iPad and pen. “He didn’t mention anything about bigger projects for this week.”

“No idea, but for some reason I have a really bad feeling about this, to be honest.”, you confessed. Your heart was racing and you felt sick to your stomach; both signs that had you worried as your gut feeling very rarely ever fooled you.

And when you both arrived in the conference room and not only your other colleagues from the marketing department were sitting there, but pretty much all your colleagues from the administrative departments, you felt vindicated.

The last time you’d all been called together like this, you’d been told that there would be a new owner, and this didn't feel any less big.

After an exhausting day on the training pitch as well as an extra shift in the gym straight after, Mason would normally flop down on the sofa and take a nap before a game or two with Ben and an early night, but after the date with you yesterday, he was still pretty much on cloud nine.

It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to grow a pair and ask you out – about three years of friendship in fact – and he wasn’t proud of how long he’d been simping for you in silence and opting to stick to staying friends, but he’d been terrified of being rejected.

Ever since you and him had become friends, he’d never seen you seriously date someone and you’d never given him any real signs you could be interested in him out of all people, so he’d held himself back and enjoyed the time he’d got with you.

But lately, you’d been a bit touchier with him. Conversations had turned flirtier, and you’d sought out his proximity more than you usually would.

So one evening on your way back home – you’d been out for dinner with friends – he’d held you back by your hand, bit the bullet and shyly asked if you wanted to go out with him. On a date. And the bright smile on your face as you’d nodded, had made his tummy flip like never before.

Mason had wrecked his brain for days to figure out what he wanted to do for your first date. He’d wanted it to be absolutely perfect and ended up making a list with all options, but after a conversation with Declan, he’d settled on the most down-to-earth option. Going for a walk – Ace unsurprisingly ended up loving you way more than him – and eating pizza in the safety of his home.

Despite the years of friendship, he’d worried the date might be filled with awkward silences and two people not knowing what to say, but to his utter relief it hadn’t been weird for a single second. You’d settled straight away into easy conversation, laughter and slightly deeper topics and it had never felt wrong.

Not when he’d pulled you into his side during the film, not when you’d grabbed his hand beneath the blanket, not when he’d kissed your cheek when saying goodbye.

The only problem: He missed you already.

Mason had always enjoyed your company, but ever since yesterday, he just wanted to spend every second with you. He felt like he’d got to know you on a different level and he appreciated who you were as a person even more than before.

Throughout the whole day he’d hoped to catch at least a glimpse of you, maybe just a tiny smile from you, but he never got the chance.

Realistically, he’d known he wouldn’t see you. He rarely ever did because the time you had to spend with the players or staff members was limited and reserved for special occasions like the photo shooting for a new season, but the whipped part of him had hoped you’d make up a silly little reason to see him.

He considered calling you, but he didn’t want to annoy you, so he eventually opted for a message. But much to his surprise, it was left unanswered.

To say you were nervous when you came in the next morning was pretty much an understatement. Your heart was beating out of your chest; overall you felt like you were about to faint.

“Morning.”, you mumbled quietly as you entered your office. Your voice lacked the usual excitement and happiness, but Anna’s greeting wasn’t more cheerful either and as much as it sucked, you were glad you weren’t the only one who struggled to process everything that had happened and throughout the day you noticed that it seemed as if the news had hit everyone quite surprisingly, meaning the atmosphere was tense – to say the least.

Two hours into the day – you’d barely managed to get anything done – your phone lit up with another message from Mason. The hopeful sound of it made your heart hurt, especially as you knew you’d have to leave this one unanswered. Just like the ones he’d sent yesterday and this morning.

You knew it would confuse and probably hurt him and that alone made you feel like the worst person on earth. Mason was the most genuine and kind man you’d ever met. He had a heart made of gold and deserved nothing but the best and here you were ignoring his every single attempt.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Anna’s soft voice and her hand on your shoulder brought you out of your thoughts. You’d been so stuck in your head, you’d not even noticed how she’d got up and sat down next to you.

“Nothing, I’m just…everything’s okay.”

“y/n, you’re crying. That doesn’t look like everything being okay to me.” She gently turned your chair and grabbed your hands. “What’s wrong? You can talk to me, you know that.”

“Not about this, no.”, you shook your head. “But it’s okay, I’m fine, I promise. Just had a bit of a moment.”

Anna didn’t look convinced at all, but much to your relief decided to play along for now and accept your decision to keep whatever it was to yourself. She squeezed your hands and nodded. “I’m here whenever you’re ready.”

You were quick in wiping the stray tears away once she’d let go of your hands, determined to get yourself together, but it was hard to focus on anything other than Mason.

Somehow you made it through the day without fucking anything up or breaking down again. You’d only bumped into Mason once. He'd intercepted you in the corridor after lunch, but you'd brushed him off with the brief information that you had a meeting.

The sad and disappointed look in his big brown eyes had haunted you throughout the whole day and now that you were sitting in your quiet kitchen, staring at the wall and trying to enjoy your dinner, it got even worse.

He didn’t deserve any of this. But there was nothing you could do. He had to forget about you and the feelings he held for you as quickly as possible and shutting him out felt like the only way. Even if it was the most painful one.

You tried watching some random show on Netflix, but with your thoughts distracting you continuously, you gave up not too long after and got ready for bed.

Mason had messaged you again a little while ago, asking how your meeting had gone, but you’d ignored it. Just like the two calls that had come in a little later. You could feel your heart breaking every single time his name popped up and your resistance crumbled ever so slightly.

You made it into bed without giving in, bravely deleting all notifications from your screen, thinking it would surely get better and be easier tomorrow, but just when you were setting your alarm another message came in, filling your eyes with hot tears.

A deep sigh left Mason’s left when once again there was no reply from you. Ever since yesterday evening, he’d been wondering what he could’ve done that would make you ghost him, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find anything.

The date had been amazing, probably the best he’d ever been on and from what you’d said, he’d thought you felt the same. But ever since then, everything seemed to have gone south.

Looking back at it now, even you telling him you had a meeting to attend, felt like you brushing him off and not wanting to talk to him, especially as he’d seen you talking animatedly to a colleague not long after, and his heart squeezed uncomfortably at the thought of you not wanting anything to do with him anymore.

He liked you, he really liked you a lot, so you ignoring his every attempt like this felt like torture. What if you really just cut him off like that without so much as an explanation?

It didn’t get easier at all. The next day still felt like you were ripping your own heart out and you had a hard time focussing and not bursting into tears.

You had a feeling that Anna knew something was genuinely wrong with you, but she respected your decision and didn’t ask you again. Instead, she brought you tea and a couple of snacks back whenever she had to leave the office and whenever she’d pass you, she squeezed your shoulder in an attempt to be there for you.

You managed to avoid Mason for the majority of the day. He’d tried to catch you a couple of times, but you were lucky enough to always be a step ahead and get away from him. By his expression, you could tell just how upset he was, but as much as it tore your heart apart, you couldn’t help but keep going.

It was what was best for you. Even though it didn’t feel like it at all. And if you were being honest with yourself, you began to genuinely doubt whether you were really doing the right thing.

Later in the afternoon - Anna had just left for a meeting - a knock at your door had your heart dropping to your tummy.

“Hi.”, he said quietly. The small smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes like it usually would, and it pained you, knowing you were the one who’d caused it. “Can we talk?”

“I don’t thi-”

“y/n, please.”, Mason sighed as he closed the door behind him to allow the two of you some privacy. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”, you dismissed, trying to busy yourself with tidying up your desk a little, but it was to no use. He could see right through you, you knew that and he wouldn’t leave until he got what he wanted.

“Yeah, obviously everything’s fine.”, he scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “That’s why you’ve been off with me right? And ignored my messages and calls. And dismissed me yesterday, saying you have a meeting when you actually just didn’t want to talk to me.”

“I did have a mee-”

“I saw you laughing with a colleague right after, y/n. I didn’t expect an hour-long conversation, you know? I just wanted a little chat after you ignored every single message those last days.”

You could tell that he was genuinely hurt by your actions, and you hated yourself for making him feel this way. You’d never meant for him to see you joking around with Ellie after you’d told him you had to leave for a meeting and you could only imagine how much it must’ve stung.

“I thought the date was great and you said you’d enjoyed it too. What happened ever since? Or did you lie back then and never planned on seeing me again?” His voice was laced with disappointment and sadness and the expression in his voice mirrored both in a way that had your heart hurting like never before.

You wanted to tell him you didn’t lie and that you’d meant everything you’d said. You wanted to wrap him up in your arms and confess how much you liked him, but instead, you got up from your desk and shook your head.

“I don’t want this, Mason.”

Mason visibly winced at your choice of words. Ever since you’d got to know him, you’d never used his full name unless you were mad at him and the fact you did now hit him harder than he’d expected. He watched you walking towards the door, obviously trying to look for an out, but he wasn’t ready for that yet.

You went all stiff when you felt his hand on your elbow, holding you back and turning you around. His eyes were hard and focussed on yours, causing you to gulp heavily.

“y/n, what’s wrong with you? What happened for you to turn on me like this? What did I do?” It was painful to hear him questioning himself, wondering what he had done wrong, when it hadn’t been him at all, but you couldn’t tell him that.

“I don’t get this at all. y/n, we got along so well, what happened? If I did something to piss you off, just tell me, please…like…just please.”

You bit the insides of your cheeks as hard as possible to stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. You couldn’t cry in front of him or he’d know something was up. Something that didn’t have anything to do with him.

Not trusting your own voice, you remained silent; simply focusing on holding back those tears.

“Look at me and tell me you don’t want this. That you don’t want me.”, Mason all but demanded. He was agitated, desperately grabbing the last straw he could find, but his heart only broke further, when you didn’t say anything at all.

You knew you’d break down if you looked at him; if you caught a glimpse of those sad eyes, so you opted to stare at the floor. The tears were brimming in your eyes and you knew you couldn’t hold the sobs back for much longer, but it was Mason huffing in disappointment, that had the first tear rolling down your cheek.

“And I thought this could be it.”, he sighed. Shaking his head he let go off your elbow and slowly trudged out of your office.

It took everything in you to keep yourself from sinking to your knees and crying your little heart out as the door fell close, but you were still at work and couldn’t cause a scene like that. Your heart was in your throat, keeping you from breathing properly and you felt like you were about to throw up any second as the tears silently ran down your face.

This was the worst you’d ever felt. No other heartbreak came close to how much it hurt to know you’d sent away the best thing you’d ever had.

You tried your best to calm down and regain your composure, but when Anna came back into the office, you still felt like you were in some sort of different dimension. Your thoughts were all over the place, pretty much wavering between making you feel like you did the right thing and like you were the worst person in the world and it didn’t take Anna more than a glance to figure that out herself.

“Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“I erm…I’m not feeling very well, to be honest.”, you admitted, knowing it was no use lying to her when you probably looked like you’d been crying for the past hour. “I think I’ll actually head home.”

“I think you should.”, she nodded; reaching out and squeezing your hand tentatively. “Call me if you need anything, okay hun?”

“Will do, thank you.” You tried a small smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace than anything else. “See you tomorrow.”

“Take as much time off as you need, y/n. It’s just work. Whatever is going on for you, prioritise that, yeah?”

You nodded, the gratitude you felt nearly bringing you to the brink of tears again, but you managed to keep it together. Saying goodbye, you hurried out of the building and making the short drive back home where you eventually let go of everything you’d been holding in.

Coming into training the next day, Mason still felt awful. Obviously, he was still hurt by you pushing him away like you had, but he also felt horrible for not respecting the choice you’d made.

Sure, he was sad and disappointed, especially as you’d never explained your change of heart, but after mulling about it for hours yesterday, he’d come to the conclusion that the way he’d reacted had been out of line as well.

You’d obviously been distraught and instead of just accepting it for the time being, he’d made it worse and demanded something you’d not been ready to give to him yet. He had too much respect for you to disrespect your decisions like he had and whilst it might only hurt him further, he’d made the decision to apologise for his behaviour and tell you that he’d be okay with being friends.

Ultimately, he just wanted you to be happy and if him not being in the picture as your boyfriend was part of your happiness, then he was okay with it. Well, he would be. At some point.

The whole training session, Mason kept going over what he wanted to say to you, to reassure you he would stay your friend if that’s what you wanted and never in his life had he been happier about a gaffer calling it a day.

He quickly took a shower before jogging up to your office, thinking that after today, you and him could be back to being friends, but he was more than surprised to find it empty. Your desk looked untouched, there was no bag by the side of it and no trace of your coffee mug.

“Oh hi Mase.”, Anna smiled the moment she returned to the office. “You’re alright?”

“Yeah, erm…I’m good, thanks. You too I hope?”

The blonde girl nodded. “I take it you’re looking for y/n?”, she asked, receiving a quick confirmation from the midfielder. “She’s not in today. Rang in sick this morning to let us know she won’t be in the whole week.”

Mason’s heart dropped to his tummy. You were rarely ever sick and it wasn’t like you to sign off sick entirely instead of working from home, so the worry that overcame him was barely bearable.

“Can I help you with whatever you came here for?”

“I erm…no, it can wait until next week, no worries.”, he smiled, hoping it looked like a genuine one and not like the forced one it felt like to him.

Anna just nodded and watched him leave. She’d been suspicious before as you and Mason had always got along really well and you’d kept mentioning him, but whenever she’d hinted at there being more between the two of you, you’d denied it and explained that he’s just a really good friend.

Now however, she felt as if everything was adding up: You struggling to remember the guy’s name you’d gone on a date with, the way you’d not taken the news on Tuesday well and now you ringing in sick for the whole week after you’d obviously been crying yesterday.

She just hoped you’d figure it out and not give up on everything that could be.

Mason didn’t have to think twice about where to go as he got into his car and started the engine. He’d been determined to make things right before and now that he had the confirmation that something was genuinely wrong, he wanted to make sure you were okay even more.

The drive to your house felt like an eternity and when he eventually reached your door and knocked, his heart was beating out of his chest. What if you sent him away again?

You were surprised to find someone knocking at your door this late in the afternoon and wondered, if Anna had decided to stop by as you knew she hadn’t bought your excuse from this morning. Especially not after she’d found you after you’d cried your eyes out, but when you opened the door and it wasn’t Anna staring back at you, your heart dropped.

“I…Mase, what-”

“Anna said you rang in sick and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”, he explained quietly. You could tell how nervous he was by the way he kept fiddling with the hem of his shirt and if you weren’t in the situation you were in right now, you’d find him utterly adorable.

“I’m okay.”, you nodded, trying to shut the door subtly, but Mason caught on to it almost immediately.

“You don’t look okay, though, y/n.”, he insisted, stepping closer so you couldn’t close the door on him. He studied you for a moment, clocking on to the slightly puffy and red-rimmed eyes, the red nose and your chapped lips. I could be a cold, but it could also be because you’d cried and not knowing made him feel like he was going insane.

“Probably caught something. A cold most likely. Savannah has been coughing ever since she came back on Monday. So it’s actually better you leave. Wouldn’t want you to catch it too.”

You knew it was a poor attempt at getting him to leave again, but you were too weak to think about a proper reason. The constant crying and worrying had got to you, making you feel like death warmed up.

“I actually came to apologise too.”, Mason admitted. He scratched the back of his head. “Do you think I could come in? Please?”

You thought about it for a second, utterly confused why he was the one wanting to apologise when you’d ghosted him for days, but you eventually sighed and let him in. Having known him for years it was pretty easy to tell that he wouldn’t leave unless he got to apologise for whatever it was and especially because of the current circumstances, it would be better if he wasn't seen at your front door.

Mason really wanted to give you a second to process his presence, but the need to say what he had to say was too overwhelming, so he started talking as soon as you entered your living room.

“Look, I just wanted to apologise because the way I behaved yesterday was out of line and-”

He had so much to say, so many things to reassure you that he was okay with whatever you wanted him to be, but one accidental look at your opened notebook was all it took to shut him up. The page you’d opened on Google made it unmistakably clear that none of what he’d planned to say was necessary. You had made your decision. A painful decision made by someone he’d never thought would hurt him like this.

“Mase?”, you asked, confused as to why he’d stopped talking, but then you remembered what you’d looked for a few minutes ago. “It’s not wha-”

“Save it, y/n.”, Mason interrupted you sternly. Unlike when he came here, his expression was stoney and cold.

“Never mind.”, he said. “It was a ridiculous idea to think you’d want anything to do with me after your behaviour those last days…and to think I came here to apologise. Fuck me.” The hollow laugh he let out had chills running down your spine. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him this hurt and you were desperate to explain, but Mason wasn’t having any of it.

“Mase, I-”

“Look, y/n, you don’t have to pretend anymore. Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to date me anymore? Obviously, it would’ve hurt, but we’ve been friends for so long, I would’ve never let you go entirely. I would’ve been okay with being friends if that’s what you wanted, but very clearly, were not on the same page with that either.”

You could feel yourself tearing up at the way he got the wrong side of the stick and didn’t even let you explain things, but after everything you couldn’t blame him for it.

“No, Mase, it’s not like that, I-”

“y/n you’re literally looking for a new job.”, he huffed. “You obvs can’t wait to get away from me and whatever it was between us. Just tell me, seriously, because this is getting ridiculous. I just…this is so fucked up, I can’t believe it…I just…”

You watched him running his hands through his hair and over his face. He looked confused, angry and most of all hurt, but as much as you wanted to interfere and explain everything, you knew you needed to wait a little longer and let him get everything off his chest.

“Back in your office, I asked you to tell me you don’t want me. I fucking asked you and you didn’t have the guts to tell me straight into my face.”, he boomed. “Instead, you’re ringing in sick when you’re not actually sick but looking for a fucking new job. Just to get away from me…like…do you realise just how fucked up this is?”

“You’re getting it all wrong, Mase.”

From the look on his face, you could tell that he didn’t appreciate you saying that at all. You knew he probably felt ridiculed and taken for a fool who’d laid his heart out in front of a girl who ended up stomping all over it, but you didn’t know how to even begin to explain what was going on.

“Yeah? Then fucking tell me how what you’re doing translates into you wanting to be friends or more with me. Because I obviously don’t get it at all.”, he bellowed. “It hurt y/n, can you imagine? We went out on that date and it went so well and I really thought you were the one I’d been looking and waiting for for years. I genuinely thought we had something but instead you went all cold on me and fucking ghosted me. You didn’t even explain anything. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

You choked on your own breath as the tears you’d managed to hold at bay finally made it past the last line of defence. Here he was, laying his pain out in front of you and it hit you like a million trains all at once. His big brown eyes were full of tears, probably a mixture of hurt and anger, but it didn’t make it any less bad.

You’d never meant to hurt him and now here he was, standing right in front of you with tears in his eyes and his heart broken into a thousand pieces.

“And on top of that, here I am wanting to apologise for making you feel bad and disrespecting your decision…god this is so fucking humiliating you have no idea. I-”, Mason stopped and took a deep breath, trying to compose himself as he didn’t have the strength to keep going like this anymore. He just wanted it to be over. “Look, y/n, you don’t have to leave. I know how much you love your job and the club. I’ll just stay away and leave you be. It’s like we’ve never been friends or something, I don’t know.”

And with that, he turned around, obviously leaving the choice with you once again, and you contemplated letting him leave, but you knew that this time it would be for good. And whilst it was everything, you’d tried to achieve those last days, right now you realised it was the worst thing that could happen.

You weren’t ready to lose him. You couldn’t lose him. Not when he meant everything to you.

“I’m doing this for us.”

Mason had wanted to leave. He’d been determined to stop this game you were playing with him, but your quiet voice made him freeze on the spot. He didn’t turn around, not ready to face you in case it was just another move in whatever game you’d chosen, but something inside of him wanted to hear what you had to say.

You took a deep breath, ready to lay it all out in front of him, no matter the consequences, but you were terrified it was too late. “I…with the new management, we’re not allowed to have any kind of friendship, let alone relationship with any of the first team players.”

Mason’s blood ran cold at your words. It was everything but what he’d expected you to say.

“The day after our date? We got called into a meeting where they explained that the team’s success is the most important thing and that nothing and no one can be a distraction. Apparently, someone had filled them in on the friendships that had formed and they didn’t like that administrative staff and players aren’t strictly separated, so they gave us updated terms for our contract that states that from now on, any kind of relationship and us is strictly forbidden and that whoever would break the rules would be immediately suspended. Apparently, we don’t even have to sign it for it to be effective.”

Mason’s heart hammered uncomfortably in his chest. He could hear how much it took for you to get it all out without breaking down and it made him feel even worse for exploding on you like that before.

“I couldn’t tell you cause it was confidential and to be honest, I’m not even allowed to tell you now, but here we are…”

When he turned around, his gaze was a lot softer as it locked on yours and the relief flooding your veins because of it was indescribable. Maybe everything would be okay after all?

“y/n.”, he sighed softly as he took a couple of careful steps into your direction and when you didn’t back off, he eventually brought you into a tight hug.

The warmth and comfort surrounding you all of sudden as well as the reassurance that you hadn’t broken everything beyond repair caused you to eventually collapse in his hold. Emotions, you’d been holding in for days turned into body-wrecking sobs; your fingers gripping his jumper and his arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders the only things keeping you upright as you let everything out.

Mason felt absolutely helpless. He’d never seen you like this; so broken and sad and he had no idea what you needed. On any other day, you’d been this strong and independent woman; you’d always known what you wanted and needed and of course, you’d let your guard down on several occasions with him, but never like this.

But as shit as the whole situation was, it just proved to him, that you felt the same for him as he felt for you.

“It’s okay, love.”, he whispered as he leaned his cheek on top of your head. “I got you, I’m not going anywhere.”

He slowly swayed you from side to side in an attempt to calm you down further, lips pressing kisses to your hair every once in a while, and it wasn’t long until your sobs became less and less violent. Ever since Tuesday, you’d felt as if the castle you’d built over the last years had collapsed in itself, but the way Mason kept you safe in his arms and whispered reassuring words into you hair made it all seem a bit less definite.

“I’m sorry.”, you whispered once you’d regained enough composure. “I know I hurt you a lot and I never meant to be as shitty as I’ve been. It’s just…when they handed us the updated terms, I didn’t know what to do. They said there would be consequences and I was so terrified something could happen to you and…I thought you’d just forget about me and our date if I pushed you away enough and…I’m so sorry I hurt you like this.”

Mason pressed a kiss to your head, before pulling back an inch. With his fingers beneath your chin, he tipped your head back gently to catch your eyes. They were still filled with unshed tears, but you didn’t look as heartbroken anymore as before.

“I’m sorry, too, y/n. I shou-”

“No, Mase you have nothing to apologise for.” You loosened one hand that was still gripping his jumper tightly and moved it on top of his shoulder; your thumb just about caressing the warm skin of his neck.

“I was the one who ghosted you and didn’t explain anything properly. It’s just…I like you so much and when you cornered me in my office and asked me to tell you I don’t want this, I couldn’t. And I couldn’t even look at you cause you would’ve seen my tears and…I couldn’t tell you, Mase. Because it would’ve been a lie.”

“I know.” He gently cupped your jaw with his warm hand, thumb caressing the soft skin on your cheekbone causing you to smile softly. “But still…Yesterday, I gave you the chance to explain, but everything was still so fresh and then today when I came here, I cut you off all the time and jumped to conclusions. I know I was mad and hurt, but I should’ve given you a moment to explain. I’m sorry, I didn’t.”

“No, it’s okay, Mase. You couldn’t know and when you saw the page you just got the wrong end of the stick. After how I treated you I wasn’t surprised you got mad.”

You gently kissed the palm of his hand before leaning back against his chest. His evenly beating heart doing the trick in settling you even more and when Mason ran one hand up and down your spine, you snuggled into him even further.

For a rather long while, you simply stood there, holding each other and breathing in each other’s scent. His hands continued to run up and down your spine, fingers gently digging into your tense muscles, and you kissed his chest in appreciation.

Deep down you’d always known that trying to get rid of him was the most stupid decision, but now that he was holding you like this, making you feel the safest you ever had, you seriously questioned yourself.

Mason was the best thing that had ever happened to you and it didn’t matter whether it was as your boyfriend or a normal friend, there was no way you’d ever let him go.

“I don’t want you to quit, y/n.”, Mason suddenly said. “Let’s keep it under the wraps and see where it’ll go. We obviously like each other a lot, but we don’t know if it’ll work out in the long run. Let’s just figure it our just us two and when we’re both certain that this is what we want, you can still quit.”

You pulled away from him a little bit, searching his eyes for any kind of doubt, but there was none. All you could find was the determination to make what you had work.

“Are you sure? It could have consequences for you too and I don’t want this to jeopardise your career.”

“More than sure.”, Mason smiled. He leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead. “I know how much you love working for United and there’s absolutely no need to worry about me. If anything, I’ll be even more focused and determined to do well and impress you, to be honest.”

“Well, I am pretty impressed already, Mr. Mount.”, you giggled, pinching his sides in jest, before resting your hands on them and turning serious again. “So, we’re doing this?”

“We are.”, he confirmed and the smile lighting up his face made you feel weak in the knees. He really was the most beautiful man you’d ever laid your eyes on. “And I couldn’t be happier, love.”

Carefully, he slid his hand up your arm until he could cup your cheek; his fingers spreading just behind your ear as he tilted your head up a little. He noticed how your gaze dropped to his lips momentarily and how the grip of your fingers had tightened ever so slightly.

“I really want to kiss you.”, he admitted quietly, nose nudging yours in an attempt to test the waters and when you didn’t pull away, but instead tilted your head a little to the side, he dipped down and kissed you softly.

You kissed him back just as gently, but he could feel it in every cell of his body. The overwhelming feeling of happiness and love threatened to burst his heart, and he could tell that you felt the exact same thing.

When eventually both of your smiles broke the kiss, it was earlier than either of you wanted. You pressed your forehead to his; eyes still closed, and the small chuckle Mason let out had the butterflies going wild in your tummy.

“I like you so much, y/n.”, he whispered; both of you knowing that liking each other didn’t come close to how you actually felt, but you knew it was too early to say it yet.

“I like you loads, too.”, you smiled and with that, Mason leaned back in to kiss you again.

—————

I genuinely hope you enjoyed reading this. You would make my day if you left a little feedback 🩷

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount fanfic #football imagine #manchester united #football fanfic #manchester united imagine #mason mount angst #mason mount fluff #angst #fluff #fanfiction

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finniestoncrane · 1 year ago

Note

Gotta be honest with you, I need to hear every single Digger headcanon you have because they 2 you've shared are just so good.

General Headcanons

KTJL!Boomer Headcanons yippee!!! woohoo!!! someone wants to listen to my bullshit!! i am so happy to write down more of my headcanons by the way, but for anyone wanting any make sure to let me know what you want the 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of nsfw things, it's fuckin boomer so of course, there's a whole load of nsfw headcanons and i mention piss because duh

General Headcanons

this is a sort of universal belief i suppose but i do think he lives in his van and i will live and die by my faith. he likes having everything he needs with him at all times. he will spout some bullshit rhetoric about living a "buddhist" existence with few material goods. and he's half right in that he has two pairs of underwear, and a collection of empty (or maybe not completely empty) beer cans rattling around back there

he's passed out twice while getting tattoos and he will yell and scream and argue that it was because his blood sugar was super low and not because he's a total wuss

he smells amazing. not like... good, don't get me wrong i don't think he smells nice. BUT he smells fuckin great. he has a natural deep musk that just hits the receptors nicely, the kind of smell that's laden with all the right pheromones to engage your caveman brain and have you swooning over him

bad habits (which i count as a bonus tbh) include: picking things: ears, skin, nose, anything. drinking to excess and then never learning a single lesson. masking all of his emotions until he's certain you won't make fun of him for having feelings. pretending to hate people that he loves because he can't be seen getting hurt. leaving his clothes lying around and relying on the smell test to get him through the process of getting dressed. kissing you in the morning before he has brushed his teeth. having no concept of personal space: he will steal blankets, he will curl around you in bed, he will sit too close to you on the sofa, he will hang off your body, he will hug you from behind and not let go, he will stand beside you all the time. refusing to take things seriously until he really has no other option. bad temper, and then defusing the situation by kicking something

yes, he has great tits and strong arms, but in my heart of hearts i know his stomach is not flat and in my head he has the sweetest lil beer gut to ever exist. it gets worse once he's just finished eating or drinking, and he cradles it and makes jokes about it being a girl or a boy. and while they might not have added it into the game, they did add in his sweet lovehandles on those hips, and he likes being grabbed by them and pulled into a hug. reminds him that when he's no longer big buff boomer, you'll still be super into his hot body

i think he's 45 years old fuck you. i think youngest he's 40, there's no way he's near me in age. we can consider sun damage to an extent but he has wrinkles, he's a dad, he's got big ol bags under his eyes and a slightly receding hairline

he's competitive, but not in an aggressive way, more in an annoying way. like you play a board game with him, and he'll do everything in his power to distract you, or use the rules against you. and if he loses, he doesn't go in a big strop, maybe a tiny huff with a few whines. who can refuse him a pity win when he's looking up at you all sad with those big green eyes and batting those silly eyelashes?

if there is something about you that he can mercilessly tease you for (without making you cry) he will harp on about it constantly. it's his way of showing that he's comfortable around you, enough that he can make you want to punch him in the throat. he can give but he can't take though, so remember that before you point out that he is in fact ginger, or that his freckles make him look so cutie-patootie, or that his tattoos are kinda dumb

you have to laugh at his jokes and puns, it's a requirement and he'd be tempted to make you sign a contract saying you will adhere to this rule. it gives him a boost, makes him feel proud. plus he is genuinely very funny, and the dorky nature behind his silly jokes is so endearing

Relationship Headcanons

when he falls for someone, he falls first and he falls hard. he also falls pretty easily, and he's no stranger to heartbreak, but he has his terrible coping methods to keep him going

he finds it easy to find something about everyone that he likes, because he's just prone to liking people. he thinks everything and anything is sexy, and he can find your good traits like a pig sniffing out truffles

he regularly brings home gifts for his partner, stolen or otherwise. no one needs to know how you aquired such an expensive piece of jewellery or that really nice original looking bit of art. maybe you just happen to save a lot of money by living in the back of his van with him!!

gifts are just one of the ways he is surprisingly thoughtful for a boy with no thoughts behind his eyes! dates are another thing he's fuckin stellar at!! wherever you're going and whatever you're doing you are guaranteed to have fun, that's just how he is. he makes everything tolerable, and he can turn a shit day into a great one

he's desperate for friendship, far more than he is for anything romantic or sexual, although if the two could go hand in hand that'd be an ideal scenario. he might claim to be chill and looking for a quick root, but he's far more interested in finding a partner who can be his buddy as well as his lover

there's never going to be a moment when he's not touching his partner by the way, like that is just something you are going to have to put up with

hand on your shoulder, hand in your hand, hand on your waist, hand on your thigh, hand on your back, hands around you as he hugs you from behind, hands around you as he hugs you from the front, hands around you as he hugs you from the side, hand on your butt, hand on your chest, hand on your stomach, hand on your cheek. the man has borderline separation anxiety

holding hands is his favourite though, especially when paired with his habit of loudly announcing your status to anyone within earshot. "oh this is my partner!" "yeah i'm their boyfriend!" "i'm fucking that beautiful bit of arse over there, thanks for asking!" like thank you, digger

he's surprisingly emotional, and surprisingly open once you get past his protective exterior layer. he's still always joking around and trying not to take things seriously, but the minute you or he needs some serious feeling time he is down for it

i don't think he would ever choose a sexuality. personally, i feel like he's bisexual or pansexual, but digger would say he's just sexual. he'll go for anything with a pulse who was happy to see him. there's a bit of digger for anyone (or anything...)

he'd be quick to take things to the next level with a partner he really loved. like he comes to pick you up one day in the boomer-van and he's like "tah-dah" and in the bacl there's a plastic storage box duct taped to the wall with your name written on it. this is how he would ask you to move in with him. you might need to get rid of a lot of your posessions but he wouldn't be adverse to you cleaning up the van or making it your own though!! i bet he'd love to have fairylights on the ceiling and some rugs on the floor

NSFW Headcanons

he has a piss kink. i know that is not a thing for most people, but i have evidence backing this up. it's barely a headcanon at this point, it's just straight up fuckin canonical fact lmao!! anyway i don't think it's a goes both ways thing most of the time. he likes to be the one pissing, it's where he refuses to be a switch and will only be the dominant one, usually

speaking of being the dominant one, it's what he's most comfortable with since he's a loud, brash, bold and heroic villainous boy, but he really doesn't mind switching things up. he can be a gentle dom, a bratty sub, and any combination in between. really, he is up for literally any activity or kink or fetish or position you can throw at him

he gets very vocal during sex. he spouts all kind of filth at you, confirming what he's doing, what he wants to do, and what he's going to do to you. his preferred terms are surprisingly gentle though, calling you kitten or pup, princess or prince, love, babe, baby. a combination of them all. aside from that, he is loud. volume is not something he can control when he's deep in the heat of the moment and he is the literal definition of animalistic. he growls while he fucks you, and he howls when he cums, and he has referred to himself as a dingo before...

of course, if you're getting particualrly nasty, or he's in a far more feral mood, he'll be growling low into your ear, calling you a dirty, nasty little cunt while he grabs your body and keeps you close

he's into any kink, sort of believing in trying anything once (or twice... or three times...) but there's a few he just LOVES. ones that if you mention them, you run the risk of having him cumming in his pants or rutting up against your leg like a desperate, badly behaved puppy

obviously, previously mentioned piss kink, but specifically if it involves some level of servitude or worship. like you on your knees holding his cock for him while he goes to the toilet, you offering to lick him clean, or letting him piss on you because you're so beneath him and he's yours to mark and claim. begging for a taste of him or pleading for him to use you gets him going too when you combine it with this

body worship or worship in general gets him going too. he's so desperate to be loved and wanted and adored and needed, so having someone beg for him, tell him they want him, they need his cock, his fingers, his hands, his saliva, his drool, his cum, anything he's willing to give them. top that off by calling him captain and he'll melt into a sticky little puddle

he's also way behind on comfort, so a little bit of gentle love mixed with kink is a great way to help him relax. feed him a tit or a hard cock, let him suck until he's soothed himself. hold him on your lap and stroke his hair while you tell him he's amazing, and so good at everything he does

cowboy digger is reporting for duty at the breeding ranch! get you some horns, a teeny tiny cowprint outfit, a tail and a bell and he'll either milk you dry until you're crying from overstimulation, or he'll ride you until he's pumped every last bit of cum into you, making sure you're ready for him to be the daddy

he'll fuck with the hat on. he's a socks on kinda guy too. he just gets way too into it way too quickly and forgets anything else but rutting and grunting

this could have been soft, if it wasn't george, but he loves when you fall asleep on him, like your head resting on his chest or his stomach or his lap or his shoulder. he'll be sweet, of course, and place a little kiss on the top of your head. but then he will try and sneak a look down your top or at your ass or to see if you have a visible bulge he can ogle

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang fanfic #finnie writes #captain boomerang headcanons #suicide squad: kill the justice league

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cap-trio · 12 days ago

Text

promised to another | part two

chapter summary: After not being able to get him out of your head, you decide to surprise Bucky at work. While you're busy getting a tour of the store and making plans to see him again, you miss a call from Steve.

word count: 1.7K

series masterlist / read on ao3

part two: your touch brought forth an incandescent glow

You can’t stop thinking about Bucky.

It all feels so ridiculous; this isn’t high school where you daydream about the cute guy from math class you’re crushing on. But one thing about Bucky is that he was always able to make you feel like that.

A week of this goes by before you decide to go see him. You’re convinced once you get used to seeing him more, all of these complicated feelings will disappear. As you walk into the bookstore where he works, the mix of books and coffee fill your senses, and you realize it’s how he smelled at the cafe last week. Anxiety sets in now that you’re here; what if he isn’t working today? What if he was just being friendly last week, and he doesn’t actually want to see you again? Bucky isn’t the type to do that, but maybe he’s changed over the years.

“I’ll be right with you!” His voice calls from a few shelves over.

You try looking through the titles but your mind is running a mile a minute and you can’t focus on anything. You nervously fiddle with the ends of your sleeves when you spot Bucky walking over. Once he registers it’s you, his eyes light up and he breaks into a grin.

“Hey! I wasn’t expecting you.” Like last time, he pulls you in for a hug. The contact is enough to give you goosebumps. How pathetic, you think to yourself. It’s just because I’m touch starved, you try to tell yourself.

“Hi! I’m glad you’re here; I wanted to surprise you but didn’t account for the fact you might not be working.”

“I’m usually here even when I’m off the clock,” he laughs. “So, a surprise, huh? Couldn’t stop thinking about me?”

You flush like you’ve been caught. Back in college you used to think Bucky was a flirt with everyone. You would laugh off his attempts at first, not thinking much of them, but then you noticed he wouldn’t do that around friends or the other girls on campus. He’s always been like that with you, and despite how messed up it is that you’re hoping that’s his intention now, you know he’s just teasing.

It takes you a second to be able to calm down and reply. You watch his face fall, the light dim from his eyes, and you know he’s about to apologize but you cut him off with a laugh. “Yeah, you wish. I’m actually one of those secret shoppers here to make sure you’re doing your job.”

“Hm, I didn’t think secret shoppers revealed their identity,” he jokes. “If you’re here for book recommendations, I’m your guy.”

“Still not a reader, unfortunately. I wanted to see you in your element.”

“Let me show you around.”

He starts at the front with the new books section. Next is romance, then mystery, and when he takes you by the fantasy section you see a handwritten note in front of one of the books. You recognize his handwriting and stop to read it.

“We have those throughout the store. Whenever an employee likes a book, I have them write why they’d recommend them. It was actually my idea to start it.”

“I’m impressed, Buck. You’ve really found your calling.”

You aren’t sure why it makes you a little emotional. Maybe it’s because he seems so settled, so content with the life he’s built. Of course you’re happy for him. But you can’t help thinking it’s good things didn’t work out between you two, even though that stings, because maybe he might not have ended up here.

“Ah, thanks. I’ve been really happy here.” His eyes quickly glance down to your ring finger. He doesn’t think you notice, but you do. “What about you? Are you happy?”

It’s a loaded question. Right here, with Bucky? Yes. When you go home to an empty apartment? No. At work, doing what you’ve always dreamt of? Yes. Desperately checking your phone for any word from Steve, but hearing nothing? No.

You can’t possibly dump all of that on him. Not while he’s working, and not when you’re just reconnecting. So you put on a hopefully convincing smile. “Yeah. Work’s been great. Not a lot of people love what they do, so I feel lucky. The one thing I wish I did more is explore the city, though. Haven’t been getting the full experience of being a New Yorker.”

Steve is more of a homebody. Besides going to the art museums, nothing in the city interests him much. As a born and bred Brooklyn kid, the excitement of the Big Apple wore off pretty quickly. He’d rather catch a movie, grab dinner at the same spots, or hang out in the park when the weather allows for it. You stopped mentioning going out more when he shot it down every time.

Bucky desperately wants to know why you haven’t mentioned the elephant in the room. Despite his curiosity, he’ll never force you to talk about something that makes you uncomfortable. He isn’t jealous, but he’s hurt that you feel like you can’t talk about it with him. At first he worried something serious was going on and you were scared to get help, or that you’re widowed and it was too painful to talk about. Bucky would never admit this to anyone, but he did some social media stalking (on a friend’s account, he never understood the point of all the apps), and saw what’s practically a gallery of your love for Steve.

As of the last month, though, the exhibit seems to be closed. No more pictures of a happy couple, but rather photos of you with friends, shots around Brooklyn, or whatever inspired you in the moment. But the photos with Steve still remained. Bucky was relieved it wasn’t what he originally thought, but it pains him that you’re unhappy.

“Could it also have something to do with running into me?” He smirks.

You roll your eyes. “There’s that ego again. But yes, that’s a factor too.”

Here you go again, turning a friendly, bantering moment into something more weighted.

“I’m really happy, too.”

Bucky can be to blame now too. It’s the way he’s looking at you - eyes softening, then glancing down to your lips, before returning to intense eye contact that would make you feel uncomfortable with anyone else. With him, it makes you feel like the most important person in the world. He’s always able to make you feel like this.

“So!” Bucky says, too loud and abrupt, “I’ve gotta get back to work, but what are you up to this weekend?”

“Depends what you have in mind,” you tease. As if you wouldn’t cancel any plans for him.

“Well, I was thinking how you said before that you’ve barely been into the city, so how about we be tourists for the day? We could hit up all the obvious sights, and I could show you some hidden gems too.”

Just like in college, he knows exactly how to make me feel better, you think. “I’m in, but only if we get matching I heart New York shirts.”

“That’s first on the agenda, obviously”

“Perfect. I’ll see you Saturday, then.”

He almost says “it’ll be a date”, but he settles with, “Looking forward to it.”

On your way out, an employee near the front smiles at you. “I can finally put a name to the face.”

You freeze. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, that came out weird. I’m Sam, Bucky’s friend. He always talks about this girl from college, and I’m assuming that’s you?”

“Oh, yeah that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.” Trying to sound casual, you ask him what Bucky’s said about you.

“I don’t want to get involved in whatever’s going on, but I promise it’s all positive.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I’ll see you around, Sam.”

Whatever’s going on? What does he mean by that? Did he pick up on the weird tension? Surely that meant Bucky did too. And what exactly has he been telling people about you? After all this time, you’re still on his mind. All of this information after that moment with Bucky makes you feel dizzy with excitement. And a mix of nerves, too.

As you walk back outside, mind still reeling from your interaction with Sam, you pull your phone out to see two missed calls from Steve. Shit, shit, shit. You call him back immediately and he picks up on the second ring.

“Hey, is everything okay? It’s not like you to not answer.”

“Yeah, sorry. I was at the movies with Nat. Is everything okay with you?”

Guilt washes over you. Steve trusts you, he even knows about Bucky, but you selfishly want to keep these moments with Bucky all to yourself.

“Yeah, I just feel like we haven’t talked in a while and…I miss you.”

He adds those last three words like they’re an afterthought, something he felt like he had to say, not something he wanted to. “I miss you too. What’ve you been up to?”

“Remember that opening at work I was telling you about? I just found out I got it. I can finally be back to a regular schedule.”

“Steve, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you, we should celebrate!” He definitely never mentioned it before. Still, you feel lighter at the news. No more stress about money, no more lonely nights while he’s at work. He can come home and everything will be okay.

“That’s not necessary; it’s not a huge deal. I just feel so relieved.”

“Me too, you can come back home and we’ll have so much more time together.”

A beat passes. Your stomach sinks.

“Oh, I uh…I’m not ready for that yet.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m sure it won’t be much longer, okay? I just need some more time.”

“I understand,” you sigh. “We’ll talk soon, yeah? I love you.”

“Yeah, love you too.”

Steve always says ‘I love you.’ Maybe he didn’t realize, but that combined with declining your offer to celebrate feels intentional. If the thing that was getting in the way of your relationship is gone, and he’s still not ready to come home and work on things, what is it going to take?

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #promised to another #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier #my fics

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leithillustration · 15 days ago

Text

This is likely too chaotic to be classed as a Six Sentence Sunday post, but I promise to throw in a few Snow On Ice sentences somewhere!

I've lost track of who has tagged me recently, but I've really appreciated reading some of my lovely moots' life updates. Its a good reminder that we all have highs and lows and when we talk about it we can get a little comfort and reassurance from this lovely community. I'm sorry some of you have been having a rough time. Sending hugs to you all.

I am never concise so my life update (of sorts), pics and sentences are under the cut.

Happy International Dawn Chorus Day! Niche I know, but I used to work for an arts and wildlife organisation and had to get up at 4am once to record the sunrise and the dawn chorus. After getting over the shock of being up and outside so early, it was actually a really lovely thing to celebrate. I've been sleeping terribly recently, so I was awake at 4:30 this morning anyway. Got up and sat in my parents' garden for 10 mins listening to the birds and it felt special, if a little less glorious since the clouds hid the sunrise. Here's a recording of today's dawn chorus in Norfolk, UK:

Forever WIP: Me I had a (very) minor surgery earlier this week to have a small but painful lump taken off my bicep. I've never experienced such a procedure before and it was very interesting being awake in an operating theatre (I had a local anaesthetic) getting to talk to the surgeons while they worked. (I was proud of myself for being so chill, tbh.) Since then I have been resting my achy body and my sluggish brain, forbidden from doing any heavy lifting or exercise, while trying not to stress about all the work I need to get done before running my stall at London Comic Con later this month. I showered yesterday with my arm wrapped in a plastic bag and it felt like a big achievement. (This is like a bizarre practice run for one day having top surgery!)

Some (sort of) sentences Snow On Ice Chapter 3 is taking me foreverrrr, since I'm not used to writing so many characters and it's been a lot for my adhd brain to handle. So to keep my writing from feeling stale, I've been writing some daft text chats between the characters. I'm thinking of posting them as supplements in between the main chapters, to help flesh out some of the relationships the main fic isn't focusing on as much. What do you think? Here's a chat between Simon and Agatha that will take place a little after chapter 3:

Simon: (photo of Tamagotchi the chinchilla) Simon: This is my friend Melody’s chinchilla. I think you’d like her. Simon: The chinchilla, I mean, not Melody. Simon: Though you’d probably like Mel too. Ags: Holy shit Simon Simon: What? Ags: Who IS that? Simon: …Tamagotchi the chinchilla. I told you..? Ags: No, Simon, who is HOLDING the chinchilla!? Ags: Is that Niamh Brody??? Simon: Oh! Haha Simon: Yeah, that’s Niamh :) Ags: How the hell do you have a photo of Niamh Brody holding your friend’s hamster!?! Simon: Chinchilla Ags: SIMON!!!

Seeing some of your posts recently, I've wanted to say more on reblogs and offer support in comments, but my brain hasn't been doing words great this week, so please take some positive vibes and fond, no pressure tags instead (:

@youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @alexalexinii @cattocavo @that-disabled-princess @orange-peony @cutestkilla @rimeswithpurple @larkral @best--dress @scribble-tier @theimpossibledemon @artsyunderstudy @raenestee @thewholelemon @nightimedreamersworld @itriednottothinkaboutit @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @angelsfalling16 @the-beard-of-edward-teach @monbons @katatsumuli @fiend-for-culture @aristocratic-otter @argumentativeantitheticalg @lovelyladzzzz @nausikaaa @blackberrysummerblog

#six sentence sunday #sort of #but also just chaos #such is life #happy international dawn chorus day #snow on ice #ice skating au where niamh is a famous ice hockey player #tamagotchi the chinchilla #simon snow #agatha wellbelove #niamh brody #i was gonna add another section but tumblr kept crashing #this has taken way too long #i had to google how to separate audio from a video file #m4as were converted to mp3s #was it worth it?#likely not

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abbyssx · 1 year ago

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omg just saw you’re writing fluff for Ellie!!! please would you write something where she is like jokingly proposing to reader outside of Joel’s house after coming home from a party or something and Joel sees them and is all like well girls marriage is a big decision tehehehe

Sorry this was so loaded !!!!! <3333

hope you like it! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚

“you would look so hot in one of those, babe” hand in hand, coordinated heartbeats and the unmistakeable glimmer of two pairs of glossy eyes that scanned the marvellous dresses exhibited through the window of the closed bridal boutique.

“who says i’ll be the one wearing a dress? i would kill to see you with that sparkly one, you'd look so cute” you replied with a chuckle.

ellie shook her head. “i would rather die”.

“would rather die than marry me? oh, i see how it is, williams” feigning offense, you dramatically dropped her hand and started walking away. ellie followed your footsteps, the noise of her ruined converse shoes meeting the wet pavement alerting you of her moves.

she held your hand again before kissing your cheek and mumbling a soft “let’s get home, it’s getting too cold”.

being almost midnight, the city was quiet. only a few lights shined on the streets, mainly illuminated by the thousands of stars above you both. you couldn’t help but think of marrying ellie. who would propose first? would she say a speech? would she write vows and share them upon the altar, or would she do it in private? bet she would look so beautiful with a suit on. would she let her hair down? would she wear a tie?

a small squeeze on your hand made you abandon the fog of those images and come back to reality.

“what’s on your mind, angel?”

“oh, nothing” you suddenly felt shy. you and ellie had been dating for barely over a year, you were both so young, why were you thinking about marriage? there were so many other experiences you wanted to live with her before tying the knot, but oh, you had been craving for so long a love like this.

“come on… you were thinking about our wedding, right?” of course she knew. she knew you better than anyone else. your cheeks started to feel warm. “it’s okay” ellie chuckled. “i was thinking of that too”.

“yeah?”

“mhm. i know we’re young and stuff but… i’d really like to marry you, y’know? if it were up to me, i’d propose right now”.

“no, you wouldn’t” you scoffed. without noticing, you had already arrived at ellie’s house. you had started to climb the porch stairs when your girlfriend spoke again:

“yes, i would! wait a second” she started rummaging through her coat’s pockets, in search of something. when she found it, she held it in her palm very tightly. “this will do”.

“what are you doing, ellie?” you said, gasping when she got down in one knee.

“i’m not a hoarder, but i’d like to keep you forever. Would you take this weird rock i just found in my pocket as a sign of my eternal love to you and be my wife?” she recited in one breath, her knee getting wet through her jeans because of the melting snow that laid on the sidewalk. hearing your laugh, she got up from her kneeling position, and hugged you very tight. “what? i’m serious! i know it’s not a diamond ring but it’s a cool rock, right?”

“you are so dumb!” you rolled your eyes.

“but you love me, dumb and all” ellie marked with a kiss on your cheek.

“that is true. i do love you, very much. but I’m freezing my ass off, can we get inside please?”

with your hands intertwined again, you crossed the threshold of the house, immediately enjoying the warmth and coziness. until a very dishevelled joel appeared through the hallway.

“hey girls. um, ellie, can i speak to you for a second?” he looked at you, then diverted his eyes to ellie again “in private?”

“you can go to my room, baby” ellie shot joel a confused look “what’s up?”

“ellie, i… you know i appreciate your love for your girlfriend, i noticed your strong connection and all and, it is wonderful, and i am happy for you, but i think you should wait a bit. you need to have more life experiences and personal growth… building a foundation on your own will make your future together stronger, you know?” he rambled, pacing around the room.

“the fuck are you talking about, joel?”

“it’s just… look, ellie: marriage is a lifelong commitment. i’m not sure you’re ready for it. think this through, please”.

“marriage? who said anything about marriag- oh.” ellie couldn’t contain her giggles, that easily turned into a full belly laugh. “oh my god, joel! i didn’t propose, you dork! i was just kidding, jesus!” she wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

“oh… i was just looking outside and yeah. well, that’s… that’s good, yeah. um, sorry”

Little did any of you know that this would be a part of the funniest (and drunkest) wedding speech by Joel, and that you’d keep that weird rock forever

again, short but sweet :) thank u for aaaall the ideas you’ve given me!! i’ll work on them asap! 🤍

mwah!!!

#⋆˚✿˖° abbyssx!#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you

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multifandomfanficss · 1 year ago

Text

It’s About Time

Ed Nygma/The Riddler x Reader

Prompt: Ed offers to help you with time management when you tell him you’re stressed at work. Your conversation is interrupted by an attack on the GCPD by the Maniax.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, cannibalism, r*pists, abuse, and general graphic violence. Gotham typical violence. Mental health struggles. Sensory issues and meltdowns common with autism. Panic. Near death experiences. Claustrophobia. References to being buried alive. Nightmares.

A/N: I’m rewatching Gotham and I didn’t realize the missed potential for hurt/comfort the first time I watched this show 7 years ago. My work load has been really heavy lately, but this show broke me out of my writers block and I made time for the writing bug. This takes place in the middle of Ed’s Riddler arc. He hasn’t fully become the Riddler yet, but he has already made his first kill. The reader has qualities of an autistic person, but is not explicitly said to be autistic. I accidentally code a lot of my characters to be autistic because I am, but this was more intentional to reflect Ed’s autistic coding. Feel free to read into it or not! You don’t have to be autistic to read and hopefully enjoy this! Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

“I’ve been so stressed lately.” You sigh. “It’s like I can’t get anything done that I actually need to get done.” You stand in the hallway of the precinct talking to your friend Ed. You were stressing about this case and Jim Gordon was making you go through hundreds of old files for him. You were never part of the real action, but the horrifying crime scene photos and evidence you had to pull through everyday was taking a toll on you. Gordon’s time crunches never helped either. You understood that lives were often on the line, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“What can some people never get enough of and others say is too much? What has the ability to fly when having fun or is stuck completely frozen when you need it to move?” He smiles. You stare at him blankly. You had not been getting enough sleep. You loved hearing his riddles, but you were never the best at giving him the answers. It was so hard for your mind to keep track of it all. “Do you give up?” He asks.

“My brain just isn’t braining right now.” You laugh. “What’s the answer?”

“Time.” He beams, happy with himself. “You should try to implement a better time management plan. You look tired all the time. It’s like you’re not even sleeping.”

“Thanks, Ed.” You give a dry laugh.

“You know what I mean.” You nod in an agreement with him. “You might be the only person who usually knows what I mean.” He says, fiddling with his fingers and the buttons on his coat.

He was right. Nobody quite seemed to get him, but nobody quite seemed to get you either. You had always felt this odd draw to him that you could never quite explain. Truthfully you think you have feelings for him, but you always bury them. He saw you as a friend and he really needed a friend. Besides he had been pinning over Kristen since before you even got to the precinct. You had mixed feelings towards her. On one hand you felt bad for her. She was always getting mixed up with shitty boyfriends who treated her poorly, but on the other hand she had a mean streak. You never liked how she treated Ed. It was like he wasn’t a person with feelings to her and that made you so angry.

“You’re right. I haven’t been sleeping.” You tell him.

“Why is that?” He asks.

“We live in Gotham. With the terrifying shit we see everyday, I don’t know how anyone sleeps.”

“Are you having nightmares again?” He asks, his face painted with concern.

“It’s fine. It’s just work stress. It’s just this case. I’m fine.” You smile. It wasn’t a real smile. Your smiles always came so naturally around Ed that he knew something was off. He was about to press when you heard gunshots coming from down the hall. Your body immediately froze like a dear in headlights in the middle of the hallway.

You’ve had violent people in the precinct before and it always made you nervous, but this was different. The Maniax were on the loose and you knew they were too unhinged to care about survivors or bargains. With Jerome Valeska at the helm, along side cannibals, rapists, and murderers you were terrified. They’d escaped from Arkham days ago and already managed to murder dozens of people. This was far too close to the action for you, as you heard Jerome’s laugh bellowing down the hall from the bullpen; a laugh you remembered from one of your early cases at the precinct. You had felt bad for him and tried to help him when his mother died. You will never forget the laugh he let out when Jim realized he wasn’t as innocent as you’d thought. It ran a chill through your spine.

Everything started moving too fast when you realized you were being pulled down the hall quickly. Once you realized you were holding hands, you tightly grasped Ed’s hand, not wanting to be separated from him. He brings you further down the hall into the ME’s lab.

“W-where are we going?” You stutter. It’s like your mouth can’t keep up with your racing mind.

“Do you trust me?” He looks at you trying to stay calm.

“Ed, what are you doing?” You’re panicking. He can tell. It’s not hard to tell, as your hands fidget and your breathing is heavy. You’re trying to stay calm.

“(Y/N), I need you to trust me.” He places his hands on your shoulders in an effort to ground you with the pressure. You close your eyes and nod, hesitantly. You do trust him.

Ed runs to the cold lockers and opens one, checking to see if it’s empty. He finds a dead body inside. You cringe. Seeing bodies is rare for you and you’re still getting used to it.

“Oh dear… okay… second times the charm…” He mumbles to himself trying to find an empty locker. “Bingo!” He smiles, finding an empty one. The wheels start to turn in your head.

“No! I’m not getting in there!” Your panic increases. Ed shushes you.

“This is our best chance. I promise I’ll let you out as soon as I can.”

“We won’t be together?” Your eyes start to burn. You try to keep back tears. You’re shaking.

“We won’t both fit in the same one. I’m gonna go in the one above you-“

“No no please I- I don’t wanna be by myself! Please don’t leave me!” You cut him off and beg him. Ed awkwardly rubs his thumbs across your shoulders where he places his hands again, still trying to ground you. It’s awkward, but it’s still somewhat calming.

“I’m not leaving you. I would never leave you. I’ll be right next to you the whole time. I promise. I need you to trust me.” You’re not sure if it’s because it’s life or death, or if it’s because it’s Ed, but you reluctantly let him help your shaking body into the mortuary cabinet. When it comes time to let go of his hand and close the cabinet, you don’t want to. Despite quickly running out of time, he knows he needs to be patient. He knows how hard this is for you. He’s always known you’re a bit claustrophobic. He had no idea one of your worst fears was being buried alive. Being stuck in a cold locker wasn’t too far from either of those things. He can hear footsteps far down the hall. The Maniax were never subtle. He kisses the hand he’s holding quickly before closing your locker and climbing into his own. You were surprised by the kiss, but you couldn’t think about that right now and what it could have meant. Your mind couldn’t keep up. He had to leave his own locker unlocked, unable to properly close it from the inside, but he locked yours to make it look more convincing.

When Ed heard you cry, he began to whisper, hoping he could be loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough for the Maniax to not notice. “It’s okay, (Y/N). I’m still here.” It was enough to quiet your sobs. Tears silently streamed down your cheeks. Ed’s voice had a certain gentleness to it when he spoke to you. He was being especially gentle now. You had seen him angry, upset, anxious, energetic, but his calm voice was reserved for you. Even in this moment when he was admittedly not very calm, he was trying his best to mask his own fears to keep you safe.

You always reserved parts of yourself for each other; parts of yourselves that the other person enabled you to be. You were never as bold as you wanted to be, but when people were rude to Ed you stuck up for him. He brought out a more confident version of you. For Ed, he knew you struggled with staying calm when you were stressed, upset, anxious or scared, even when you were happy. All of your emotions were so big and you rarely knew how to contain them. He tried to stay calm because he knew you saw him as a calming person in your life. He liked being your hero when everyone else only saw him as a weak, odd, nuisance. He also liked that he could read you and that you were honest with him. He trusted you and it helped keep the voice in his head at bay. He didn’t have to question himself with you. He didn’t have to take advice from the voice in his head.

You tried to keep your meltdown as quiet as possible when you heard footsteps approach. They were heavy, not ones you recognized. You knew it had to be one of the Maniax, probably the cannibal. You tried to make your breath as quiet as possible. After what you assume was a poor sweep of the room, the man leaves.

After what seems like hours of being trapped in a corpse you finally hear sirens and then chatter. You hear Ed climb out of the locker above you. He opens your locker and you let out an audible sob.

“I think they’ve gone.” He says, pulling out the drawer to let your body get some much needed air. You start gasping and sobbing, shaking on the drawer of the mortuary cabinet. Your body jolts up. You just want to get away from the locker.

“You’re okay! You’re okay!” Ed catches your body, as your start to fall from the drawer to the floor. You sit on the floor and cling to him, sobbing. At first awkward, he runs his hand along your back, trying to sooth you with the repetitive motion.

“I felt like I was dead- like- like I was gonna get buried alive-“ You gasp for air, sobbing between your words. Ed shushes you.

“We’re okay. They’re gone.” He promises.

You hear fast approaching footsteps. Your brain is moving too fast to decide if the footsteps are familiar or not. You just bury yourself further into Ed’s chest.

“Detective Gordon is here.” He informs you and you relax only slightly.

“Nygma, are they okay?” Jim asks.

“No mortal wounds, they’re just a bit shaken up.” He lets him know.

“You two should probably still get checked out. I need to finish scanning the building for everyone else. So far we’ve got 9 cops dead in the bullpen and… and the commissioner is dead.” He says. It’s almost like you hear Jim, but you don’t. Your mind can’t keep up with anything that’s happening.

After a while you find yourself sitting, waiting for Lee to check you out. Ed had been pulled away for a few minutes to do his job. He didn’t want to leave you, but you assured him you were fine. You didn’t feel fine, but you knew they needed him. As long as you could see him on the other side of the bullpen, you were reluctant, but okay with him stepping away. He left his jacket draped around your shoulders. It helped to be surround by his smell and warmth.

When it was time to go home, Ed guided you to his car. You hadn’t spoken much, but at least you’d finally stopped crying. The car ride was quiet. The only thing that filled the air was Ed’s occasional hum with the radio. Neither of you quite knew what to say. It was a bit ironic considering usually nobody could ever get you two to shut up. You didn’t speak up until he turned onto your street.

“I don’t want to go home.” You said quietly, feeling the panic rise again at the thought of being alone at home again.

“That’s understandable. Would you like to stay at my place?” He asks. You nod, silently. He flicks his turn signal and starts the drive to his place.

“Welcome to Château Nygma.” He smiles, turning on the light. You still have his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. Despite the terror you’ve been through today, his smile is refreshing. You don’t question how he can stay so seemingly sane in times like these, but you’re just glad somebody is. You need that. Maybe you should have questioned it, but you didn’t. He has a nice apartment. It’s not too big. Why would it be for a man who lived by himself? It’s just the right size with cool windows and a comfortable setup.

“Do you want something to eat? I’m a good cook.” He smiles. You don’t know how he can continue to smile, but you’re glad. It starts to make you feel safer. It’s nice to be in a locked apartment with just you and Ed. It’s nice to be in a quiet, secluded place, but not feel alone. It’s far better than sitting on your bed, scared of any serial killers that could be hiding underneath the frame and jumping at any people you hear in the stairwell of your apartment, with an open case file sitting next to you, worried the killers you’re reading about could be onto you any second. Today was a very close call. Too close.

“If you’re not sure, that’s okay too.” He continues, noticing you’re deep in thought.

“Oh…uh yeah… I’m not sure what I want… It’s like my body needs things, but I’m just a little bit too overwhelmed to figure it out.” You look down, shyly.

“Do you want to just sit? I can put on some music?” He questions referencing the record player with his hands.

“That sounds okay. I think I can do that.” You nod. He puts on some quiet music, not too loud to overstimulate you and you make your way to the couch. He brings you a glass of water.

“I can imagine it might be hard for you to have an appetite given your increased levels of adrenaline today, but you should at least drink this.” You take the water from him and begin to sip it. You didn’t realize how nice cold water could feel. You drink it quickly, before setting the glass down.

“Thank you.”

Ed sits down and you gravitate towards him.

“How do you do it?” You ask.

“How do I do what?” He looks for clarification.

“Your job. There’s so much death everywhere.”

“I don’t know. I just sort of do. Honestly I think it’s fascinating…” He pauses, looking away from you. “Sorry. That probably sounds weird.”

“It does, but that’s okay. I like the fact that you’re different and you’re honest. It’s comforting. You’re a better man than all of those crooked cops walking around beating up women and mobsters alike.”

“You think so?” He asks.

“Yeah, I do.” You smile. This time it’s a real smile. Ed smiles too. It’s nice to know after everything he’s done for you to make you comfortable, you can say something to make him feel better.

“I’m sorry all of this has been so awful for you.” He says.

“I know we’re doing good and it’s important to do good in a world of so much bad, but sometimes I just wish nobody had to do it. I can’t even fathom what would make somebody what kill another person. Maybe out of necessity, but it scares me that people actually enjoy it.”

“Yeah.” Ed shifts uncomfortably. You think he must agree with you and that’s why he’s unconformable. You don’t know that he killed Officer Doherty for abusing Kristen just over a month ago.

The two of you talk for quite some time until you end up falling asleep next to him on the couch. He doesn’t mind when you fall into his lap. He lets you sleep, smiling down at you. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to wake you. He was afraid of breathing too deeply and shifting too much underneath you. He eventually falls asleep sitting up with you still in his lap.

Everything is peaceful until you shoot up screaming, in a cold sweat. You’ve had another nightmare. This time is different. You’re disoriented. You don’t know where you are. You feel hands touching you.

“(Y/N), it’s me! It’s Ed! You had another nightmare.” You look at his face to see him distraught, unsure of what to do. Your tossing and turning had woken him up. He was awake only seconds before you.

Your eyes begin to well with tears. “I just want it to stop. When will all of this stop?” You cry.

“When will what stop?” He asks.

“Everything! I just want to stop feeling like this. I want to stop being afraid. I should be used to the job by now.”

“Maybe you just need more time to get used to it! I know we talked about time management earlier. I can help you with your schedule.” He offers.

“I don’t want to manage my time. I just want it to freeze. I just wish time would freeze so I could just breathe and catch up!”

Ed looks at you defeated. He doesn’t know what to say. He likes riddles because riddles always have answers. He doesn’t know what to do when there’s a problem with no solution.

“I’m sorry.” He settles with saying. “Would a hug help?” He’s just grasping at anything he’s seen people do when trying to comfort other people with problems and no solutions.

“Yes.” You say quietly, burying your head in his chest. Despite being the one to offer the hug, he’s a little awkward at first. He eventually settles in.

“Is this helping?” He asks.

“Yes.” You tell him. Of course, Ed being who he is, even now he’s still looking for a solution. He doesn’t realize he may be the solution, or at least someone to help make the problem smaller. “You always help.” You add.

“I’m sure most of our coworkers would disagree.” He laughs.

“I never thanked you for earlier today.” You say quietly.

“It was nothing.” He smiles.

“No, Ed. Keeping me safe in a life or death situation isn’t nothing.”

“I’m sure anyone would have done it.” He argues.

“No, they wouldn’t have.” You tell him.

“I’ll always protect you.” He pulls you closer, shifting awkwardly underneath you. “You know… my apartment is always open if you want to sleep with me- I- I mean sleep with me in attendance- I- I mean sleep with each other- I- I mean near each other- you know! In case you have nightmares!”

“I might just have to take you up on that. This is the first night I’ve felt okay enough to be able to maybe go back to sleep afterwards.” You smile, trying not to laugh. You don’t want him to think you’re making fun of him. Truthfully you think he’s sweet and funny.

“You should go back to sleep and since I didn’t get to make you dinner I’ll be making you the best breakfast of your life tomorrow.” He beams.

“You better.” You snuggle into him. Ed is too awkward to suggest you go lay in his bed tonight and you’re too tired to care. You spend the rest of the night on the couch together. You can save the bed for tomorrow night. You know when you wake up in the morning you’ll be coming back. It was the most sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.

Ed wakes up before you and sneaks off the couch to start breakfast. He truthfully was a very good cook. His own sensory issues with food made him very particular about how it’s prepared. You wake up to the smell of something good in the oven. Ed is nowhere to be seen, but you hear him in the bathroom. He’s talking. You knew he often talked to himself, but he sounded like he was talking to someone else. Maybe he was on the phone. You were sure you were hearing one half of a conversation.

“I told you we could trust them. They like me for me. They think I’m a good man.”

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ladyaes · 7 months ago

Text

I need the Diaz family accepting Buck as Eddie’s boyfriend before Eddie even admits to himself that he wants Buck as his boyfriend.

I can’t get this Buddie fanfic idea out of my head, but since I know I’m never actually gonna write it, I figured I’d just share it here. Basically, it’d be the entire Diaz family going through this big, dramatic internal struggle to accept Eddie dating a guy (Buck) and blessing their relationship—all while Eddie and Buck have no idea any of this is happening. The plot could play out during Christopher’s birthday. In my idea, Eddie goes to El Paso for Chris’s birthday and brings Buck along. Because of the way they act around each other—and the fact that Eddie’s family probably has their suspicions about him not being straight (let’s be real, Latin families are very close and have a radar for this stuff)—the Diaz family assumes they’re a couple. And from there, the whole internal and external struggle begins within the family, with Eddie and Buck completely clueless.

First off, I wanna say I’m Latina, and 100% of this idea comes from my own life experiences within my culture. Obviously, Latin culture isn’t just one thing since it covers so many countries and subcultures, but there are some things that are basically universal.

Why do I think Eddie’s family would accept Buck? Because the only other person he introduced to the family was this white American woman they obviously couldn’t stand, and, ironically, Buck checks all the boxes of the “perfect wife” in the eyes of Latin moms, grandmas, and aunts and the “perfect husband” in the eyes of Latin dads, grandpas, and uncles.

Unfortunately, in our cultural context, traditional gender roles are still really strong for older generations, and even those who are more progressive tend to put these roles onto same-sex couples because they can’t quite picture a relationship without a “man” and a “woman” role.

So, I imagine Eddie’s whole family would evaluate Buck the same way they’d evaluate a girlfriend or boyfriend.

Important qualities for a good first impression as a Latina girlfriend:

Helpful: when the family gets together, it usually involves a ton of food, and that’s the women’s responsibility (I know, I know °_°). If a girl is introduced to the family and doesn’t help in the kitchen, she’s automatically seen as lazy, and if she tries to help but can’t do the basics, she’s seen as useless.

And we know Buck can cook pretty well.

Loud and talkative: I know that for Americans, people who are loud and super expressive might come off as rude, but for us, it’s normal. So if you’ve just been introduced to the family and stay too quiet, it might make a bit of a bad impression.

Buck’s expressive enough to fit right into a Latin household.

He’s involved, kind, takes amazing care of Chris, is superstitious, smart, and attractive. All he’s missing is being Catholic and female to be the dream daughter-in-law for every Latin mom.

And from the men’s perspective, he’s perfect too.

He’s got a stable, good-paying job, he’s strong, knows about repairs and construction, and he’s got that friendly, open vibe that makes it easy to bond. Plus, he’s a firefighter with loads of heroic stories. That alone would put him on a pedestal as the dream son-in-law.

I can just picture Buck spending hours setting up tents and tables, chatting with the men about firefighter stories, and then spending hours with the women, helping in the kitchen, talking to them, and listening to their stories.

By the end of the visit, after lots of private discussions, the Diaz family would welcome Buck into the family, and he wouldn’t even realize it. Since there’s still that ingrained prejudice, it’d be more like a blessing in disguise. Buck would get home exhausted, happy, and with a recipe to cleanse bad energy from his apartment (coarse salt).

When they finally do get together, it takes Eddie months to work up the courage to tell his family. But when he finally does, they’re so confused (since they thought the two had already been together for at least a year) that they end up thinking the news Eddie’s so nervous to share is actually that he proposed to Buck.

#911 abc #911 #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #fanfic prompt #diaz family

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thesilverdiary · 6 days ago

Text

Non Authorized Version

⤷ Summary: She saw his name again.

Not in a headline.

Not by accident.

Poetic, in a cruel sort of way — he once rewrote her silence into absence: neat, forgettable, as if she’d chosen to vanish.

Five years apart.

One request.

And a history that refuses to stay in past tense.

Fourteen chapters.

⤷ Author's note: Some ideas started taking shape in my mind a few months ago, and since then I’ve been drafting bits and pieces here and there… maybe I’m finally coming out of that writing block that tends to hover over anyone who loves telling stories — which, honestly, makes me happy.

I’d been a bit tired of the endless PWP spiral (no shade, truly — important to say!), but I needed something with a little more tension. A bit of plot. A touch of pain. You know — joy. A story split between now and then.

⤷ Special warnings for this first chapter? Oh, hm, no. Just emotional tension, slow-burn energy, unresolved past, implied intimacy, and professional power dynamics. No smut yet. Silence does most of the talking. There’s a 10-year age gap.

Last but not least, if you want to, you can read this on Wattpad and AO3 as well.

⤷ Words: 3,673.

Chapter One | Some Roads Have No Exit

📍Vienna, Austria → Brackley, United Kingdom. 2025. 

It’s been five years since I left behind the near-ritualistic routine of attending Grands Prix in person.

And ever since, I’ve been failing — stubbornly, I’ll admit — to rebuild the kind of sleep the experts call rest hygiene.

I’ve tried. Really.

Waking up early. Stretching before sunrise. Joining the 5AM club, with silent yoga and ceramic-mug coffee.

Coffee only until two in the afternoon. Warm lightning in the evening. No screens after six — or at least, that’s the promise.

Just not mine.

My body still runs on the time zone of floodlit paddocks and red-eye flights.

I belong to the afternoon.

To the night, if possible.

The kind of person whose brain only starts working once the rest of the world goes quiet.

A night owl — the kind that sometimes mistakes being awake for being nostalgic.

I’m not against healthy routines. Not at all.

I understand the value of each carefully prescribed step: the afternoon coffee cut-off, the amber lights meant to trick the brain into thinking the day is winding down.

The slow retreat from screens after six — not out of duty, but as a ritual. A silent agreement with the body: you can rest now.

Some call it self-care. Others call it discipline.

I call it trying.

Because sometimes, it’s not about wanting. It’s about being able.

You can’t always keep pace with the ideal internal clock imagined by people who sleep through the night and don’t hit snooze.

There are days — and nights — when the only victory is not falling apart.

Everyone has their own emotional time zone, their functional mess, their little negotiations.

The notification came just before seven. An email. Scheduled, maybe. Or sent by someone who starts their day in overdrive. Who knows. Who hasn’t had a boss who confuses urgency with their own anxiety, anyway?

Of course, there’s that polite trick of scheduling things for office hours — a veneer of normalcy. But sometimes the anxiety is so raw, so impatient, that it bulldozes right through the intent. And then the message just goes — unfiltered, unscheduled. As if handing off the task is enough to lighten the load.

I got it. I swear I do.

Outside, Vienna was still breathing in shades of blue. The city looked suspended — like it couldn’t decide whether to rise or ask for five more minutes. In the building across the street, a bathroom light flicked on and off in a hurry — a life waking up by instinct. Someone getting out of bed. Or someone who, like me, never really went to sleep.

I prefer to believe in the first. It’s too early for other truths.

I opened the news with no real hope for anything new. I read like someone who already knows the endings — but rereads them anyway. I mentally corrected headlines. Adjusted verb tenses. Swapped adjectives. A leftover habit from the days I believed fixing the sentence could also fix the feeling.

I know better now. But I still try.

I was wearing my favorite sweatshirt — oversized, blue, with tiny piling on the cuffs and a stubborn hole in the right sleeve. A kind of social armor. Not just comfort — a signal. A quiet message to the world, in case it asks: today, only gently.

The dry buzz of my phone broke the silence.

A notification. That kind of brief, polite vibration — impossible to ignore. The screen lit up. My eyes followed, reluctantly.

“Confidential Project | Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team.”

I swiped the notification away, like sweeping something under the rug that you know you’ll trip over again.

Pressed my forehead to the rim of my coffee mug. Closed my eyes. Breathed like I was trying to file away an entire thought in a single pause. Kept my face calm — not out of vanity, but habit.

I didn’t open it.

Not yet.

I may not have figured out how to regulate my sleep, but I have learned — with some effort and a lot of mistakes — how to regulate curiosity.

Also known as: anxiety.

At least when it comes to certain things.

And this…

This was one of them.

...

I got to the newsroom a little before nine, coat still zipped to my neck and eyes too dry to look just tired. The coffee in my hand was more about protocol than need — like holding it might help keep some structure intact. A scene worthy of those behind-the-scenes journalism films, except without the flawless wardrobe, without the soundtrack, and without the performative charm of the lead.

Pre-season buzz had taken over everything: the screens, the fragmented conversations between coffee breaks, the story pitch spreadsheets.

McLaren was starting strong. Mercedes promised consistency. And Red Bull — for the first time in years — seemed unsure of its own script. That alone was enough to spark every theory imaginable.

I greeted people with a chin-nod here, a half-smile there. The mug in my hands was a shield — the perfect excuse not to linger in conversation. It was still early, but inside me it felt like noon. A whole day was already lived in silence — or maybe in delay. Like some part of me was spinning in a different clock. An older one. Louder.

At my desk, I opened the team’s email, aligned three files on the screen, and took a deep breath. But the draft stared back at me like an impatient version of myself. The feature article was still raw, headlines unfinished, the opinion section waiting for edits. I tried to focus. Tried to write.

Another Christian Horner interview was taking up too much space in the news cycle:

"Full confidence in the RB21."

"We're learning from early challenges."

"Absolute focus on recovery."

Words lined up like PR notes. Crisis script, recycled.

McLaren was leading. Mercedes was threatening. And for the first time in years, Red Bull seemed lost inside its own narrative.

No one in Formula 1 knows how to lose.

They only know how to change the story.

That’s when Maren appeared at the door. No knock. With the kind of subtlety only someone with big news and no intention of softening the blow can pull off.

“You haven’t seen it yet?” she asked, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. She wore that half-smile — part warning, part tease.

“Seen what?” I asked, fingers still on the keyboard.

She stepped closer, leaning against the doorframe like she had no plans to leave.

“Wolff. He asked for you.”

I turned my head slowly.

“Asked how?”

“Ghostwriter. Authorized biography. Set to release next year. There’s already a contract, a timeline, an international publisher. And he was specific: he wants you on the project.”

I went still. Picked up my now-cold coffee again. My body quiet.

Only my stomach reacted — that dry twist that comes when something brushes the past without asking permission.

“He knows I was the one who approved that behind-the-scenes series on Mercedes?” I asked. “The column that ran when Hamilton announced he was leaving?”

“He knows. It was translated, actually. And he still asked for you.”

She didn’t smile. Just looked at me — like someone who already knew I’d say yes, even if I really wanted to say no.

...

The email was still unopened, but it lingered — insistent. Hovering. As if it carried more than just text — like it was, in itself, a question.

I kept telling myself it was just work.

A professional offer.

A chance to tell a relevant, respected story.

But the truth was simpler.

And harder to admit:

If it had been anyone else’s name, I wouldn’t have hesitated.

But with him…

With him, the hesitation was already an answer.

Someone once told me that if your “yes” isn’t immediate, it’s because deep down, you’re already leaning toward “no.”

You just haven’t figured out how to say it yet.

But there are exceptions to every rule. There always are.

Dear Anneliese, The Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team is pleased to invite you to collaborate, as ghostwriter, on the official biography of Toto Wolff. This project is more than a record of professional milestones. It is, above all, an attempt to understand the turning points, the quiet decisions, and the untold versions of a life lived under constant pressure — both on and off the track. Your precise listening, contextual insight, and ability to name what so often goes unnoticed make you the natural choice to take on this mission. There’s something in your editorial perspective — in the way you organize the non-obvious — that we consider essential here. We’re aware that projects of this magnitude require time, commitment, and a rare level of trust. That’s exactly why this invitation comes with the freedom to say no — but also with the hope that you’ll say yes. The attached proposal outlines the preliminary details regarding schedule, confidentiality terms, and suggested editorial structure. We remain at your disposal for any questions. Kind regards, Special Projects Team Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team

I closed the laptop.

Then opened it again.

Then shut it once more.

Several good years in journalism.

Five covering motorsport.

I’d covered everything from Sauber’s chaos to Red Bull’s golden years, from Grosjean’s crash to Vettel’s tearful farewell. I’m hereby announce my... It was a hell of a day this one.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been asked to write from behind the curtain.

I’d been there before — the voice arranging other people’s truths.

The presence who caught what the subject was trying to forget.

I’d built narratives with more delicacy than the truth deserved.

Protected reputations between commas.

Edited out the emotional excess of those desperate to seem untouchable.

But this invitation was different.

Because he wasn’t just another name.

He was the name.

The only one who, even after all this time, could still make my body hesitate.

He’d always been good with words.

Never hid in silence.

Said what he thought — with conviction, without filter. Sometimes with precision. Sometimes with urgency.

There was something raw in the way he shaped his sentences.

As if feeling deeply was, in itself, proof of being right.

Back then, I thought it was beautiful.

But later, I learned:

Intensity isn’t listening.

And those who talk too much often hear no one.

Not even Mercedes — with all their media machinery — could filter what he let slip. Sometimes it seemed like he used the truth as a tool — revealed just enough to appear transparent, never enough to be vulnerable. He wielded language like a thermometer: said what needed to be heard, even when it sounded spontaneous. And that’s when it got hardest to tell.

Yes.

No.

Yes?

Meanwhile, the old phrase pounded in my head:

The stopwatch never lies.

And right now, the stopwatch was screaming.

...

The newsroom was still murmuring the end of one of the last meetings when Adrian approached my door, his body slightly leaning forward, like someone who wants to come in without crossing a line. 

"Did you see the new piece about Ferrari's testing in Maranello?" 

His voice carried that spark only recent graduates still have — as if every new bit of information might rewrite the whole season. 

"They’re saying the car’s lighter, with much cleaner cornering response. It might just be hype... but it sounds promising." 

I nodded without taking my eyes off the screen. 

"Ferrari always sounds promising." 

"But this time..." 

He paused. Wanted to convince me. Hoped for some sign of validation — a look, a question, anything. 

"Leclerc said he’s never felt this much stability in the sims." 

I took a deep breath, removed my glasses, and let the silence stretch—just long enough to become heavy. 

"What's new isn’t always what matters, Adrian. Sometimes, it's what repeats that reveals the most." 

He frowned, like he couldn’t decide if that was criticism or café-philosophy. 

"I just wanted to know your bet," he said, with a smile that tried to stay light. "You’re usually right." 

"Bets are for people who still want to be surprised." 

I turned back to the draft. He didn’t push. Left slowly, almost disappointed. 

From across the newsroom, Jonas muttered without looking up: 

"She still bets. Just not out loud. Not anymore." 

I pretended I hadn’t heard. 

But I had. 

Later, in the hallway, Maren caught up with quick steps. She was holding her phone, brow slightly furrowed, like she’d read something she hadn’t yet decided was ridiculous or inevitable. 

"How many times did you open the email before you actually read it?" 

I gave a half-smile. Didn’t bother denying it. 

"A few." 

"I thought you’d ignore it." 

"So did I." 

She took a slow sip of her coffee. 

"Are you going to accept?" 

I nodded. 

"Even knowing how it ends?" 

"I don’t know how it ends." 

Not yet. 

She looked at me sideways — the kind of look that doesn’t judge. Just understands. 

"And you’ll be able to write it like nothing was left behind?" 

"I’ve never known how to write like that." 

She nodded once. 

"Then maybe it’ll work." 

We stood there in silence for a few more seconds. Lukewarm coffee, white walls, the kind of moment no one would remember. 

Except us. 

"Brave," she said. 

"Or stupid." 

"Sometimes, the only difference is who's watching." 

...

I looked out the window. Not even my late-night neighbor was awake. 

I packed around two a.m., when the city was already asleep and even the building’s usual noises had quieted. Everything felt suspended — a kind of pause I hesitated to disturb. 

I folded clothes like someone closing a book whose ending they already knew. 

Each fold was more about control than preparation. 

I chose neutral pieces, discreet. Tailored pants, three blouses that matched each other. No patterns, no textures that carried memories. Nothing he could recognize from afar. No scent that might suggest repetition. 

It was automatic. But not accidental. 

There was intention in every choice. 

As if clothing could serve as armor. 

As if the right fabric might stop something from returning — or escaping. 

I replied to the email before two-thirty. Few words. The right tone: formal, technical, politely receptive. Every punctuation mark measured. But the real answer had already come — in that moment when I opened the message and my body, without asking me first, reacted like something had finally clicked back into place. 

Or like I had never really left that place at all. 

At the bottom of my backpack, the old notebook. 

Black cover, frayed edges, loose elastic. 

The pages were full of loose phrases, bits of interviews, notes that never made it into any article. 

Things he said — not the official ones. The others. 

The ones that slipped out when he thought no one was listening. 

Words that never made the headlines, but never left me either. 

Some things we don’t publish. But we don’t erase them either. 

Along with the notebook, I packed the bracelet. 

Simple. No visible value. No shine. No signature. 

It didn’t stay out of sentiment or longing. 

It stayed because, out of everything I chose not to keep, it was the only thing that never asked to stay. 

And maybe that’s why it did. 

The airport was quiet, but not calm. 

People too sleepy to truly be there. 

A woman slept with her head on her suitcase. A teenager watched a video without headphones. Two executives debated franchise numbers like someone around them might care. 

No one did. 

Neither did I. 

At the gate, I felt that familiar pull in my stomach. 

It wasn’t fear. It was anticipation. 

Like I was going back to a place where I’d left a version of myself I hadn’t had the courage to retrieve — but that was now waiting for me. 

Right where I’d left her. 

The flight was silent. I chose the window seat. 

Refused the snack. Accepted the wine. 

The first questions started forming in my head. Structures, tones, narrative routes. But each one crumbled before it took shape. 

I typed notes into my phone. Deleted them before landing. 

I tried to remember what the book was supposed to be. 

Deleted that too. 

What remained, as always, was memory. 

Vienna, 2016.  The way he ran his fingers along my ribs, slowly, like retracing a familiar landscape that still knew how to give chills.  And for one full second — a second that still hasn’t ended —  he seemed to recognize me with a precision no one else ever had. 

Suzuka, 2019.  He spoke for twenty minutes without saying what actually mattered.  The abrupt exit. The way he turned away, like he’d forgotten something — but wouldn’t go back for it. 

It wasn’t about romance. 

Not passion either. 

It was about understanding. 

Like when he touched me, he grasped something I didn’t yet have a name for. 

And somehow, that alone was enough to throw me off balance. 

There were others. 

Men who tried. Who were kind. Present. Gentle. 

Some even made me laugh like that might be enough. 

But the body remembers. 

And memory doesn’t compare — it recognizes. 

There was something in his eyes — direct, unwavering — that no one else could replicate. 

And maybe a part of me never truly left either. 

That’s it: he’s an old language I still understand without needing translation. 

Even though I should’ve forgotten how to pronounce it by now. 

I landed in London shortly after nine. 

Took the train to Oxfordshire without saying a word. 

The team’s driver was waiting at the station. 

“Comfortable trip?” he asked. 

I nodded, like someone still arriving from a place they never actually left. 

And I watched the rest of the ride through the window. 

Brackley appeared just as I remembered: clean, efficient, gray. The kind of town built so that nothing stays out of place for too long. 

The Mercedes building looked almost exactly the same. 

The sleek facade reflected a dull sky across mirrored panels. The halls felt quieter than necessary — as if even sound had to be carefully engineered not to interfere. 

It was the architecture of precision: made to think fast, decide right, and fail as little as possible. 

A place where the past wasn’t welcome — only data. 

I walked in. 

I was greeted by a new staffer. Too young to have lived through any real comms crisis, with perfectly trimmed hair and that polite smile that never goes beneath the surface. 

He looked proud to deliver the message: “Mr. Wolff requested you personally, Miss Weiss. Directly.” 

It landed like an award announcement. 

I smiled back. Short. Just enough to end the moment before it lasted longer than it should’ve. 

The silence in the halls was as deliberate as everything else. 

White. Untouched. People-less. Even the doors opened with excessive care, like asking permission was part of the protocol. 

Boring. 

On the wall, a photo of Niki Lauda. 

Captured mid-track, mid-drive — no posing, no flair. 

His expression was restrained, his body leaning forward like the only thing that mattered was the next two seconds. 

No heroism. Just focus. 

The image of someone who survived his own story and kept moving like it didn’t cost him anything. 

I sat down and crossed my legs. Checked my phone. 

Maren had messaged: 

“If you disappear for more than 72 hours, I’m assuming you’ve been kidnapped. Want me to go over the contract?” 

I replied: “Yes. And if I vanish for more than 96, publish everything.” 

She answered with a bomb emoji. 

I smiled. Alone. 

Thank God for her. Thank God she exists in my life.

I touched the bracelet on my wrist. The metal was cold. 

I looked at my reflection in the door glass. My eyes looked darker than yesterday. Or maybe just more awake. 

Then I realized: 

He doesn’t know. 

He doesn’t know I never stopped watching. 

Even from a distance. Even in silence. 

I saw everything. 

The pressers. The interviews. 

The way his voice dropped when he wanted to end a subject. The pause before denying something. 

The way he crossed his arms when he felt control slipping. 

The smiles that died before reaching his eyes. 

I didn’t speak. 

Didn’t send a message. 

Didn’t come back. 

But I saw. 

The silence between us wasn’t one-sided. 

It was a choice. A shared one. 

The door clicked open. 

Torger. 

He appeared in the doorway like someone who knows exactly the effect he has, even if he didn’t plan it. 

The same posture as always: grounded, unhurried, like every inch of him was aware of its own space. 

Dark suit perfectly tailored, tie centered, expression controlled. 

But the eyes... the eyes betrayed him before his voice did. 

It was in the details that everything slipped through. 

The quick wrinkle of his nose. 

The slight raise of his left eyebrow — the one he pretended wasn’t a tell. 

The way he tugged at his shirt sleeve unnecessarily — small, but visible. Especially to me. 

He always did that when he was trying too hard to seem calm. 

The face was the same. 

But the eyes… had that old thing. 

Not tenderness. Not anger.

Familiarity.

And with it, a hint of something else — a flash of mischief, almost boyish, from someone who remembers more than he lets on. 

He looked at me like he was checking if a ghost still had a shadow. 

He stepped back half a pace, leaving space for me to enter. The gesture was reserved. 

But the look couldn’t hold the same control: there was a trace — almost imperceptible — of someone who’d waited too long for this moment to pretend it was just business. 

“Come in.” 

His voice was lower than I remembered. 

But still steady. Still his. 

And at that moment, it felt like everything after him had just been noise. 

And so, I went. 

Some roads have no exits. 

And others, we walk down knowing exactly where they end — but we go anyway. 

Because part of growing is learning that some pain isn’t meant to be avoided. 

It’s meant to be faced. 

Some roads we take knowing exactly how they end. 

And still, we go.

Not out of hope. 

But because some things deserve a final sentence — whatever that may mean. 

39 notes · View notes