#trent doesn’t know how to ride a bike | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trentcrimminallybeautiful · 5 months ago

Note

Hi 👋🏻 you generously offered to give me some fic recs once you're back home if I gave you some more details as to what I'm looking for. Basically, anything tedependent that's close to, around or after canon. Open to personal favourites that deviate from this, though. Thanks in advance. Seeing the tags made me so happy! ❤️

oughh sorry this took forever, long story short getting back home ended up being a 24 hour comically terrible disaster and then i was just. tired :( but HERE I AM NOW!!!!!!!!!YAY

okay! OKAY.

tedependent

near/around canon

i'm going to assume leaning away from nsfw since it wasn't specified

no preference towards complete/incomplete, but i tended for the former

let's start with a ⚡LIGHTNING ROUND⚡!

these are fics I think at least somewhat fit your description (not sure I'm a great judge of 'close to canon') that i don't have any extra commentary to add about (that's not a bad thing!) they're all good!

A Mighty Nice Shine by turingpatterns - oneshot (complete) (trent's daughter! cute fic!!)

For As Long As We Can by ShutUpGwen - longer fic (complete) (post-canon getting together, kinda)

All Publicity, as they say by JessJessTheBest - medium sized fic(?) (complete) (very cute and funny social media centered fic)

if music be the food of love, play on by literary_lesbian - medium sized fic (complete) (great author, mae pov deserves more love)

Take My Whole Life Too by ItsClydeBitches - oneshot (complete) (adorable valentines day fic)

it's nice to have you here by foxwatson - longer fic (incomplete) (excellent 'there's only one cottage' fic, not s3 compliant as it was written before s3)

Holding Pattern by Wildgoosery - oneshot (complete) (honestly worth it for the ending alone--not that the whole thing isnt' good)

Nothing’s as Easy as Riding a Bike When You Don’t Know How by r_n_g_are_dead - long fic (complete) (trent falls in looove)

closer to your request (i think)

richmond is for lovers by confessionofaking- series (complete)

[summary for the first fic in the two-fic series] “So you do laugh!” He heard himself shout. Trent blinked, and then he was standing. “But you don’t do it until page—,” he crossed the room and peered over Ted’s shoulder “forty-three? And it wasn’t even a big laugh! That was more of a loud nose breath,” he paused, trying to recall the proper word. “An exhale.” Ted put a halt to his nervous rambling in a matter of seconds. “Hey, Trent, look. I know folks are divided on the actual police these days, but all human beings are opposed to the laugh-police.” or, the 'laugh police' scene fix-it fic, except i made it worse.

notes: an eventual post-canon fix-it, as well as a fix-it for the "laugh police" scene. excellent fic, excellent author (HI CADE!!!! HI!!!!! ILY!!!!) i would also reccomend from him... well, any of his fics, but for a quick round-up of a few more sfw tedependent fics of his:

twist of fate

red light

i’ll catch you, darling

just can’t get enough (more nsfw in themes but very cute)

The Lasso Effect by earlybloomingparentheses - oneshot (complete; part two of a series)

Dating Ted Lasso is a wonderful thing. There are, however, certain downsides. For example, Trent no longer has control over when and where he smiles. He apparently cares about Roy Kent's opinion of him now. And he's been having the most ridiculous urge to tap dance. It's the Lasso Effect.

notes: there's several bits in this for trent's characterization that live in my brain rent free.

number four was always you by thefaceofno - long fic (complete)

Ted’s phone rings. He looks away from the window, where he was watching the tree sway in the wind, to see Beard’s face splashed over his phone screen. He thinks about not answering, but if he doesn’t answer then all he’ll have done today is run to CostCo for no reason. He doesn’t need eight pounds of almonds, but he has eight pounds of almonds. a.k.a. the post s3 fix-it where Ted does some intense mental healing.

notes: THE post-canon tedependent fix-it. excellent. please read it immediately.

constant as a northern star (constantly in the dark) by laiqualaurelote - medium sized fic (complete) (technically part of a series but this is standalone)

“I just met Ted Lasso,” Sachiko Crimm says bluntly when her ex-husband picks up. Trent is silent for a while. “And?” he says finally. Sachiko gives it five seconds, and then she bursts out laughing. “Stop it,” says Trent wearily.

notes: one of my favorite incarnations of trent's ex-wife ever. also always a sucker for pov outsider. also, excellent author, and you should absolutely read their post-apocalypse theater/shakespeare au. please.

nothing worth doing comes easy by pocky_slash - medium sized fic (incomplete)

First Ted Lasso is a joke, then Ted Lasso is a story, and then, suddenly--mortifyingly--Ted Lasso is something more. (Or: Trent doesn't want to be Ted's friend.)

notes: excellent, loving it, basically, to quote the author's note, "trent's deeply awkward gay spiral in the [s2] finale". however, word of warning: it is, tragically, unfinished.

Architecture With a Human Element by ItsClydeBitches - oneshot (complete)

“There has to be something,” Trent muttered, furiously scrolling through his feed. Each suggestion he found was debunked by the next post, with many parents swearing up and down that certain techniques made the whole thing worse. Trent stopped on a video of a mother taking scissors to her daughter’s curls and bit down on an actual sob building in the back of his throat. It was right before Trent let it fly that his mobile rang. Coach Ted Lasso (from America). Trent couldn’t say what possessed him to answer with his throat thick and his eyes prickling, but his traitorous hand had already swiped while his mouth said, “I have to shave my head.” Or: 5 times Ted got to touch Trent's hair and one time he returned the favor.

notes: losing my mind at the tenderness in this one. ough (positive)

time may change me by rockinhamburger - oneshot (complete) (part of a series)

Trent’s writing a book, so he’s in the room, generally, whilst [AFC Richmond’s magical season] fucking happens. These are the kinds of days when he curses single fatherhood. Trent debates whether he can just skip work for the day, but the West Ham match is a mere week away. Nothing else for it. “Mia, how would you like to come to work with me today?”

notes: very sweet, good series. this particular work is pre-relationship, but i love crimmlet so much, and their interactions with the team.

Independent by TheBasilRathbone - medium sized fic (complete)

Trent Crimm might only recently be an independent journalist, but he's had no one to rely on but himself for far, far longer. And most days, it feels like he's barely keeping it together. So it only seems fitting that the conclusion to the worst period of his life is for the whole thing to go up in literal flames. Luckily for Trent, help comes from a (not so) unexpected source.

notes: one of my favorite tedependent fics, not gonna lie. just. wow

some all-time favorites!

a man arrives on thursday by clementines_and_colorful_things - medium sized fic (complete)

The capture of a friend prompts notorious outlaw Ted Lasso to take on the crooked leadership of Nelson Road, Kansas, with his motley crew of castoffs, cowboys, and criminals. When English-born historian Trent Crimm finds himself unwillingly swept into the fast-paced world of Lasso and his outlaws, he gradually begins to unravel the enigmatic Ted Lasso’s complicated ties to Nelson Road’s most prominent players. Tensions run high as Ted evades arrest and plots the downfall of those who have wronged him, and Trent worries that Ted will meet the same abrupt end that most outlaws do: with a length of rope and a rather short drop. — A Ted Lasso Wild West AU

notes: a very good cowboy au from a very good author. not close to canon by any means, being a cowboy au, but very, very good nonetheless.

read our constellations by ShowMeAHero - long fic (complete) (series)

[summary of the first fic in a four fic ongoing series]

And Trent’s not a mess! He’s not. He’s got his life entirely together. He chose to reveal his source and give up his position with The Independent. He chose to start chasing book authorship as his new branch of his career tree. He chose his flat, and his car, and his life, down to the brands of tea he buys and the sorts of people he spends time with and the sheet sets he puts on his and Beatrice’s beds. He’s an adult man, for Christ’s sake. Of course, he’s got his life together. Everything is under his control, and it’s all fine. It’s entirely, completely, fully fine. Taking one last steadying breath, Trent opens his eyes and looks over the line of seven tests on the counter: the first he took a few hours ago, and the six he just took since. Each and every last one of them says he’s pregnant. Some have plus signs, some have two lines, some simply have the word pregnant. All of them may as well come together to form a little sign reading, Congratulations, Trent! You did it! You’ve finally made a goddamn bloody mess out of everything! Just wait until you have to tell Ted! Trent’s stomach turns for more reasons than one.

notes: what is there to say??? one of my favorite fics from one of my favorite authors. it does somewhat follow along canon, with a pretty obvious deviation of their relationship and trent (a trans man) getting pregnant. but i truly cannot recommend their fics enough. another lightning round of their more sfw tedependent fics:

to seek solace (exploration of trent and past abuse that makes me wanna bawl (positive))

you'll never walk alone (HEARTWRENCHING soulmate au, happy endings all around, i adore it)

you know (i love you so)

darling, i love you

come what may

birdhouse in your soul

#fic recs #fic rec #askbox #and youre welcome <3 im glad it made you happy #i probably--definitely--missed some but this was already al ot of recs so i think it's alright

28 notes · View notes

gottagobackintime · 2 years ago

Text

You want me to go full on crazy Tedependent theorist? Because I will, I will go full on crazy Tedependent theorist. What do I have to lose? (Except my dignity but that’s non-existent to begin with so 🤷)

Ted once said this: "I remember being a little kid, sitting in front of the television and watching Queen perform right over there during Live Aid."

He has a moustache that resembles Freddie Mercury’s. He’s even brought up the whole back story as to why he has it. (Also being told that he shouldn’t have a goatee right before he walks down the aisle and then he decided on this moustache and he never looked back…) in the same speech he says “Since I was a straight fella in Middle America working in sports.” Which leads me to episode 11.

In this episode they mention that Freddie Mercury owned Richmond briefly in 1980 and that he tried having “Fat Bottomed Girls” as the team’s song. And Rebecca tells Keeley and Higgins that her father went to art school with Freddie and that Freddie supposedly said that his greatest talent was “flipping straights”. So young Ted saw Queen perform at Live Aid and then when he was older he grew a moustache similar to Freddie Mercury’s? 🤔

Then we have the song in itself. You know who wrote “Fat Bottomed Girls”? Brian May. Who famously has fantastic, long hair.

Whose hair was brought up for the first time, explicitly, in the show this episode? Trent’s hair. And it was brought up by Ted’s mum. And Ted has previously commented on hair as something he seems to like. (He kind of alluded to Trent’s hair in the second episode of the third season but he never outright states that he likes it. And Trent asks Ted if he assumed that Trent could ride a bike because of his hair and the whole vibe). And I’ve talked about hair in THIS POST but the gist of it is that hair has been referenced before, in relation to romantic couples with Roy and Keeley, Higgins and his wife, Sam and Rebecca.

I can’t verify this quote because I don’t have the magazine. But I’m adding it here anyway:

May told Mojo magazine October 2008: "I wrote it with Fred in mind, as you do especially if you've got a great singer who likes fat bottomed girls… or boys."

“Fat Bottomed Girls” is also connected to the song “Bicycle Race”, written by Freddie Mercury, they were released as a single together. And they both reference each other. “Bicycle race” is sometimes viewed as a metaphor for being bi. (Sport as a metaphor, anyone?)

Who doesn’t know how to ride a bike? Trent. Who has a moustache similar to Freddie Mercury? Ted. Who might be bi? Ted.

Look, I told you it’s crazy but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve talked about Queen/Freddie Mercury in relation to Ted before. So I couldn’t let this opportunity pass me by.

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #tedependent #then we also have other music related things with Ted and Trent #like Trent wearing a Dolly Parton shirt in two episodes #and in this episode Beard and Ted talk about singing Dolly Parton’s Islands in the stream at karaoke #and then Ted sings part of the song as he walks out #when it comes to clothes Trent is wearing his western shirt that he wore when Ted talked about being a straight fella #and he’s wearing it when he meets Ted’s mum who compliments his hair #and considering what James Lance has said about Trent’s shirts having meaning…#James Lance wore a Dorothy shirt to some event related to Ted Lasso #and in this episode we focus a lot on Kansas and they watch You’ve got Mail and the final scene in that movie has Somewhere over the rainbow #playing in the background #Dottie is a nickname/shortening of Dorothy #look I just want someone to love Trent okay #and I would love for it to be Ted and it would make so much sense #but at this point I’ll take anyone just give him someone to love and be loved by #nicole watches stuff

160 notes · View notes

puzzlebeanficrecs · 1 year ago

Text

I've been really into Ted Lasso recently and so about 75% of the fics I am currently reading are in this fandom. So I thought it was the perfect moment to share some of my favorite fics!

Roy/Jamie

wanna feel your heartlines by holtzmanns [General, No Archive Warnings Apply, 8,767 words]

The curtain around his bed is ripped back before Jamie has time to elaborate, and his words die on his tongue when the rather eyebrow-heavy man on the other side of the curtain grunts in his direction before looking down at his clipboard. Jamie’s eyes linger on the biceps poking out of his black scrubs, his muscled forearms that don’t appear to be solely from working in a hospital.

“Doctor Kent. I’ll be your physician today. Full name and date of birth, please?”

Jamie’s brow furrows at the question. This man really doesn’t know who he is?

The doctor rolls his eyes, as if he can read Jamie’s thoughts. “Procedure. Out with it.”

“Jamie Tartt, but you already know that.”

Once More, with Feeling by liesmyth [Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, 7,841 words]

“Amsterdam’s our thing, innit? It’s tradition. It’s like—the anniversary of when you learned to ride a bike. Your bikeversary.”

One year on, and they're playing Ajax again, in the fucking Champions League. After, Jamie has plans.

i don't belong and my beloved neither do you by instantcaramel [Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, 5,855 words]

He drives until he gets to a village near Lake Windermere. He only has the money he has from his last year and from selling his house in Manchester, but it’s enough to rent a place from a nice old lady who just wants to make some extra money.

or, the one where Jamie quits football and moves to a little village near Lake Windermere.

Roy/Jamie/Keeley

Finding warmth in a cold hotel by CherryPie0 [Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, 1,500 words]

He knows the team's budget hasn't been the same since the whole Dubai Air situation, but come on, they could at least stay at hotels where they won't fucking freeze to death by morning!

Jamie has a problem. Then he finds a solution.

Heart Trouble by MoreThanSlightly (cadignan) [Explicit, No Archive Warnings Apply, 6,844 words]

“I tore his shirt after he hit me,” Jamie says, fucking unbearably helpful. He shrugs and tucks his hands into the bottom of his light blue hoodie. “I’m not sure exactly how it went after that.”

“He pushed you against a wall,” Keeley says.

“Er… no?” Jamie says, puzzled. He twists his hands, stretching the fabric over them. His brows draw together like he’s thinking really hard about whether their stupid, embarrassing, ineffectual fight in the middle of an alley involved any walls.

It didn’t. Roy doesn’t know much but he knows that. What the fuck is Keeley doing?

“That’s where you went wrong, then,” Keeley says, and amends, “One of many places you went wrong, mind. Let’s get it right this time.”

I've Got A Rainbow, It's In My Mouth by inlovewithnight [Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, 10,442 words]

Jamie wasn't even supposed to come to Iceland. But here he is, and here Roy and Keeley are, and it's really not a bad time at all.

the talking bit by mixtapestar [Explicit, No Archive Warnings Apply, 4,531 words]

How is it that Jamie is always around? And now he wants to talk about something first thing in the morning without Keeley around? Roy isn't awake enough for this.

they say when it's right you know by inlovewithnight [Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, 2,037 words]

There they sit, drinking champagne from specimen cups and laughing about the sheer absurdity of the last 24 hours.

Ted/Trent

in loco parentis by AuntieClimactic [Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, 9,954 words]

“Hello? Yes, this is Trent Crimm, The Independent. I’ve got a bit of an emergency and need Coach Lasso’s mobile.” Trent paused, brow furrowing in irritation. “Well, his son is currently standing in my office, in my newspaper building, which is filled with bloodthirsty journos. Could you make an exception for that?"

Lies, Damned Lies, and Lies to Journalists by gutterandthestars [Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, 6,307 words]

"It’s bad," says Rebecca, "because Trent Crimm is a very good journalist and knows you just bullshitted him right to his face. Which means..."

“He doesn’t believe I had food poisoning?”

“That’s highly likely,” agrees Rebecca. “And that means….”

“Means you’re fucked,” says Roy, appearing in the doorway. “Because now he’s not writing a story that reads ‘Richmond Coach Shits Himself’, he’s investigating a story he assumes is so embarrassing it’s worth your while to try and cover it up by pretending you shit yourself. And since that is already pretty fucking embarrassing, he’s thinks he’s onto something big.”

Colin/Isaac

i think we're supposed to be by manycoloureddays [Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, 1,715 words]

Isaac has been sitting on this revelation for a while now. Getting used to it, learning how to live with this feeling in his chest so huge it threatens to swallow him whole. And now he’s going to say it, declare it, claim it.

Keeley/Rebecca

A Revealing Poetry by ice_hot_13 [Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings, 7,963 words]

When Rebecca needs a date to her ex-husband’s wedding, Keeley volunteers because - because of course she does, Rebecca needs her.

Sam/Jamie

More wonderful by CherryPie0 [Explicit, No Archive Warnings Apply, 3,794 words]

And it felt right, wearing Sam's number.

Only that now Jamie can't help worrying that maybe he overdid it a little? Because the more he thinks about it, the more it feels like the grand gesture at the end of a rom com; like he sang a love song in front of the whole school or something.

could you make me happy? by manycoloureddays [Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, 1,305 words]

It keeps happening and Sam doesn’t really know why. He hasn’t asked. A little because he doesn’t want to seem rude, and a lot because it’s been … nice. It’s nice to feel wanted, and it’s nice to be wanted by people you love and respect.

#ted lasso #fic rec #fic recs #ted lasso fic rec #royjamie #royjamiekeeley #tedependent #keeleyrebecca #samjamie #colinisaac

74 notes · View notes

dandeebakes · 3 years ago

Text

Ok so we all know Trent can’t ride a bike right? What if one day his kid starts talking about how she wants a bike, “Like all my friends!” or something and Trent’s like “Fuck. Someone’s going to have to teach her how to use the damn thing” and laments this to Ted who’s all, “Buy her the dang thing and I’ll help you teach her how to ride it. I am a great coach, after all. Plus I taught my own kid how to ride a bike”

Meanwhile Trent’s all like “fuck I have to watch my adorable crush teach my even more adorable child a life skill, omg”

And Ted’s all “boy oh boy, won’t this will be a fun way to connect with Trent and his daughter? I hope this doesn’t make me realize I’m in love with him.”

But it does, it definitely does.

#trent crimm/ted lasso #trent crimm #ted lasso #throwing my personal ‘Trent crimm’s daughters namer’ headcanon into the mix #it’s rose crimm aka rosie #no middle name #Trent’s cool like that

125 notes · View notes

avenirdelight · 4 years ago

Text

Stop Searching | PART 4

Trent Alexander-Arnold

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

(this is a direct continuation from part 3)

She tugs the hem of his hoodie, bringing him back to Earth. He keeps looking away, too scared to look at her face that now is so close to his. From the corner of his eyes, he can see that she’s staring up at him.

“Trent, if there’s something you want to tell me, then tell me.” Sensing Trent’s confusion, she softens up her voice as she tries to take a grasp of the situation. “It’s okay, Trent. It’s me. You can tell me everything.”

Trent shakes his head. “I’ve said too much already.”

“No. I need to hear more.”

“Why? You literally just said that I’m your best friend, like you’re opposed to the idea of us becoming... Something more.”

“I’m not.”

Trent suddenly finds his courage to look back at her. Now it’s his turn to feel like the world just stops. There’s passing vehicles, some kids riding their bikes laughing at each other, noises from a construction across the street; a lot of things are going on around them, but for him there’s only her, looking up at him expectantly. His confusion grows. There’s still a pain on his heart from the moment she denied him a few minutes ago, but now she’s saying the opposite thing.

“I didn’t mean to respond like that,” she continues. “I was processing your words and I just needed more confirmation, but it just came out that way… I’m sorry.”

Trent chuckles nervously as she looks away. His brain is working too fast. It has come to his understanding that she’s not opposed to the idea of them being more than best friends and she’s asking him to basically confess to her. It’s making him dizzy. Trent isn’t one hundred percent sure, but his number one assumption why she’s acting like that is because she’s feeling the same way.

There’s a probability that she loves him too, and if Trent can be honest right now, it’s more than enough to push himself to do something crazy. Something that he didn’t think he would do in the most random circumstances, in the most random time and place, without any preparation and plan.

This is his chance and he knows he cannot mess this up. He’s been frustrated and desperate, and it’s time to show those feelings in the right way.

Trent stares at her fondly. She suddenly feels too shy to be under his gaze, and Trent swears his heart flutters just from how cute she looks right now. He put his hands on her arms, slightly squeezing them to get her attention back on him. And when she doesn’t, he lifts her chin up, reassuring her that she doesn’t have to be scared. It’s just him after all. It’s just Trent, her best friend.

“Stop searching. I’m the one you’ve been looking for,” Trent says, looking deep into her beautiful eyes. He has never sounded this serious. “I’ve loved you since forever. I loved you when you had those questionable haircuts and hilarious fashion sense, I loved you when your ex-boyfriends and ex-friends didn’t, and I loved you in all phases of your life whether it’s good, weird, or bad. And I know I’ll never stop.”

She bites her lower lip and drops the plastic bag she has been holding as it suddenly feels too heavy to hold, her hand slightly trembling. That was probably the worst confession ever considering how he started it, definitely the weirdest all of the confessions she’s ever received, but it’s coming from Trent and it’s all she’s been hoping for. Her grip on his hoodie becomes stronger as she feels that tears are starting to well up on her eyes. Trent’s lips twitches into a smile. He pulled her into a hug and she wraps her arms around his waist, holding on for her dear life.

“Okay.” The word slips from her mouth. It was faint, almost a whisper, but Trent can hear it loud and clear.

Her head spins. She’s suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the huge relieve that’s washing over her. She can hear how loud and fast Trent’s heart is pounding, and she hopes Trent can feel hers too, so he understands that she’s feeling the same towards him. She wants to tell him that she has loved him since they were sixteen, but she guesses she can save it for later. She wants to enjoy this moment of being held in Trent’s arms for the first time not only as his best friend, but also as his lover.

—

My Masterlist🤍

#avenirdelightwrites #trent alexander-arnold imagines #footballer imagines #football imagines #trent alexander-arnold one shot #footballer one shot #football one shot #imagine #one shots #blurbs #liverpool fc #avenirdelight gif

51 notes · View notes

unkn0wncryptid · 3 years ago

Text

i’m surprised i haven’t seen any fics where Ted teaches Trent how to ride a bike

Ted 100% is the type of guy to hear Trent say he doesn’t know how to ride a bike and then show up at Trent’s door with a bike he borrowed from Mr Timn (the sweetest guy Ted met down at the pub one day, has a great Golden Retriever who had a bit of a cancer scare last year but is doing so much better now and-)

#ted lasso #ted x trent #sam posts things #tedependent

6 notes · View notes

thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years ago

Text

Superhero part three

Summary: I swear this is the last time I ask for something, but could you make one where Richie protects Freddy from bullies? Please?

A/N: I hope you enjoy anon! Let me know what you think.

Warnings: this is about bullying so please don’t read if that triggers you!

At first, the rumors aren’t so bad. Freddy is aware of them, it’s hard not to take them in when his classmates don’t bother waiting to start gossiping until he’s out of ear shot, but he can deal with that.

He convinces himself that the whispers behind his back are about more than his physical disabilities. That they reference how cool his shirt looked or something, but Freddy knows that’s not the case. Everybody who sees him limp but can only focus on his disability, it’s like that’s the only part of him that matters. His mom shared that sentiment along with the rest of the world, but prior to attending school -he wasn’t allowed to at first, his mom said he was too fragile and that he may trip and injure his leg further-, Freddy held out hope the rest of the world would indicate his mother wrong.

It didn’t, but Freddy was still happy to be out of the house, so he refused to tell anyone near him about the whispers that follows him like a bad scent. It’ll go away some day, he told himself as he laid in bed, equal parts eager to go to school and learn, and disheartened about the tattles he’ll have to endure.

He was proven wrong again. Instead of evolving past the childish glee he invoked, the bullies became braver, more outspoken about how much they enjoyed to see Freddy suffer. The careless whispers were barely there anymore, but they shuffled to the background as violent offences now became Freddy’s primary concern.

On the regular, his crutches would get kicked down from under him, so that Freddy, with no other way to balance himself, stumbles to the floor. Sometimes, that was enough torment for the day, and they would walk away satisfied, other times, the would proceed to punch him again, or wait until he was almost scrambled back up before again sending him flying to the ground.

Freddy had a lot more issues ignoring that sort of bullying. He never tells anyone still, he’s not a little kid that needs his dad to come rescue him, and either way, the only thing he would gain from that is more attraction from his bullies.

He has a new routine now, one where he hides during school breaks and avoids being the laughing stock as much as he can.

His dad always drops him off at school at precisely 8 am, and comes to pick him straight after school. Freddy can’t walk all the way home, nor can he bike, not with the state of his leg, and riding a buss without a guaranteed sitting spot isn’t a stable option either. That’s all fine by Freddy, taking the buss would mean more time for his bullies to go after him.

As soon as he gets out of the car, he waits until his dad has turned a corner, and then walks around to the back entrance. By the entrance, there is a second door that leads to a supply closet no one barely uses. The school has pretty much abandoned it, and that’s why it’s the prefer place for Freddy to spend his breaks in.

Don’t get him, he does try to socialize, in the five minutes before class starts, but everyone finds him both piteous, and a huge nerd -Freddy can’t help that he’s really into superhero’s-, so everyone ignores him.

It’s not the glamours life he’d imagined himself living, but it’s better than being couped up inside of the house all day.

After the final bell of the day rings, he’ll rush to get out before anyone can stop him, and jumps in the car which Eddie is driving. Eddie has never witnessed any bullying, but he’s never been late either. Not until today.

Under normal circumstances, his dad would be awaiting him in the car at the parking lot, standing ready for when school ends. Today, Eddie’s black SUV is nowhere to be seen. Freddy’s eyes float across the parking lot three times, hoping every time that he just somehow missed him, but he ends up empty handed.

‘Shit’, he curses, knowing full well that that is not going to have a happy ending for him. He tries to back out and walk into school quickly, but before he can, his arm is gripped tightly, while another set of hands rips his crutch from him. Freddy flails you grab it again, needing it o balance himself, but it’s useless, he watches in helplessly and in shame as his crutch goes flying over the side walk.

There are other people outside too, but they don’t pay attention. Or maybe they do, but they don’t have the gal to speak up.

Trent, his number one bully and the only one offering him ‘support’ right now, begins to sway them dangerously.

‘Stop’, Freddy protests, but his pleas are ignored. Trent and his posse laugh at him, and push him to the ground.

Freddy angles himself so that he falls onto the grass instead of the concrete, to safe himself from bruises, but now he has green stains on his pants that he knows his dad will question. It’s the lesser of two evils.

‘Oops- sorry about that Fred, I though you would be able to fly, you know with that superpower you so love’

Freddy understands he’s being bated, but physically, he’s not match to Trent or his other bullies - not only because of his leg, but also because they are two years older than him and taller-, so he can only defend himself with words.

‘My favorite superpower is Invisibility, but I’m guessing yours is stupidity?’

Trent’s smirk falters, and he punishes the comment by pretending to stomp on Freddy’s leg. He stops last minute, but Freddy flinches in fear regardless.

‘Oh’, Trent coos, fist bumping his friend as they smirk. ‘What’s wrong little Freddy’, he starts talking in a baby voice, ‘can’t you get up?’

‘Your voices really suck,’ a voice coming from the opposite side reproaches. It only takes a second for Freddy to identify who the voice belongs too, it being so distinct he doesn’t need to conform it with his eyes. It’s Richie, who for some reason is picking him up instead of his dad.

That’s not too bad, Freddy resigns. He figures Richie is going to chase them off but will let the issue rest, and maybe with some tinkering Freddy can avoid Richie telling his dad about it all together.

Trent, unbothered by the unexpected witness to his behavior, snorts and flips Richie the bird.

‘Why don’t you move along old man? There’s nothing to see here.’

Freddy scrambles to get back up, seizing his opportunity to escape his doom, but one of Trent’s friends forces him back down. Freddy can’t bring anything against the gravity force, and lands on his back again. ‘Oof’, he breathes, winded.

Richie’s eyes flash with something Freddy has never seen before. Richie is the equivalent of a man child; goofy and energetic – sometimes-, and friendly to every person he meets. The glint of pure anger that is now flickering in his eyes is something Freddy would have never associated with him ever before. He looks like a different man.

‘Get the fuck away from him.’

Trent wants to laugh again, the corners of his mouth already quirking up in a sneer, but then his demeaner changes and he stops. ‘Wait, are you Trashmouth fucking Tozier?’

‘I’ll say it one more time, step away from him.’ Richie’s voice is calm, serious, cool and collected, and Freddy would be a little bit frightened if that was directed at him.

‘Hey man we were just having some fun. No need for such a big fuss.’

‘Yeah I’m sure it’s really funny for you jerks. You know what I find funny? Calling all your parents and letting them know what their kids have been up too lately. You know what else I find hilarious? Getting some assholes expelled after I threaten the principal with bad publicity. Do you find that funny?’

He could technically do that, Freddy reasons. Richie has a lot more influence now after his breakdown and miraculous comeback, such as appearing on SNL and doing a lot of interviews. He could, but Freddy is sure he would never go that far.

‘Fine, whatever. This nerd isn’t even worth it.’

Trent and his friends walk off fast, their dignity only intact because no one else was their to see them get on their asses by a forty year old man. It could be Freddy’s imagination, but he’s pretty sure he saw Trent blush in shame.

Freddy reaches for his crutch, and Richie rushes to bring it over and help him get into a standing position.

‘Little shits’, he mutters under his breath.

‘Ow, dude. You shouldn’t have done that, now I’m really in for it next week,’ Freddy complains as he watches the group march away. Richie pulls him in for a sideways hug, and Freddy forgets what he was so apprehensive about. During the hug, he’s just happy Richie was there for him, again.

‘They can try’, Richie accepts, but the way he protectively glares when Trent glances back proves he’s not going to let that slide.

‘Are you gonna tell my dad about this?’

‘I have to Freds, he’s your dad.’ Richie tells him honestly, and begins leading the two of them to his car. He drove his red sports car, notable to everyone. ‘But’, Richie says amicable, ‘I’ll compromise. What do you say to a good old fashioned round of bragging. I’ll drive you to school on Monday?’

Freddy grins elated. He couldn’t be happier with the pick his dad chose.

#reddie #My writing #richie tozier #richie and eddie #adult Richie #freddy freeman #freddy freeman imagines #eddie x freddy #richie x freddy #eddie as a parent #eddie as a dad #richie as a parent #RICHIE AS A DAD

21 notes · View notes

rockislandadultreads · 4 years ago

Photo

#Bookoween: Thrilling Reading Recommendations

The Red Lotus by Chris Bohjalian

The first time Alexis saw Austin, it was a Saturday night. Not in a bar, but in the emergency room where Alexis sutured a bullet wound in Austin's arm. Six months later, on the brink of falling in love, they travel to Vietnam on a bike tour so that Austin can show her his passion for cycling and he can pay his respects to the place where his father and uncle fought in the war. But as Alexis sips white wine and waits at the hotel for him to return from his solo ride, two men emerge from the tall grass and Austin vanishes into thin air. The only clue he leaves behind is a bright yellow energy gel dropped on the road. As Alexis grapples with this bewildering loss, and deals with the FBI, Austin's prickly family, and her colleagues at the hospital, Alexis uncovers a series of strange lies that force her to wonder: Where did Austin go? Why did he really bring her to Vietnam? And how much danger has he left her in?

Close Up by Amanda Quick

Welcome to Burning Cove, California where 1930s Hollywood glamour conceals a ruthless killer…

Vivian Brazier never thought life as an art photographer would include nightly wake-up calls to snap photos of grisly crime scenes or headshots for aspiring male actors. Although she is set on a career of transforming photography into a new art form, she knows her current work is what’s paying the bills.

After shooting crime scene photos of a famous actress, the latest victim of the murderer the press has dubbed the “Dagger Killer,” Vivian notices eerie similarities to the crime scenes of previous victims—details that only another photographer would have noticed—details that put Vivian at the top of the killer’s target list.

Nick Sundridge has always been able to “see” things that others don’t, coping with disturbing dreams and visions. His talent, or as he puts it—his curse—along with his dark past makes him a recluse, but a brilliant investigator. As the only one with the ability to help, Nick is sent to protect Vivian. Together, they discover the Dagger Killer has ties to the glitz and glamour of Hollywood royalty and high society. It is a cutthroat world of allure and deception that Vivian and Nick must traverse—all in order to uncover the killer who will stop at nothing to add them to their gallery of murders.

The Silent Wife by Karin Slaughter

Investigating the killing of a prisoner during a riot inside a state penitentiary, GBI investigator Will Trent is confronted with disturbing information. One of the inmates claims that he is innocent of a brutal attack for which he has always been the prime suspect. The man insists that he was framed by a corrupt law enforcement team led by Jeffrey Tolliver and that the real culprit is still out there—a serial killer who has systematically been preying on women across the state for years. If Will reopens the investigation and implicates the dead police officer with a hero’s reputation of wrongdoing, the opportunistic convict is willing to provide the information GBI needs about the riot murder. Only days ago, another young woman was viciously murdered in a state park in northern Georgia. Is it a fluke, or could there be a serial killer on the loose? As Will Trent digs into both crimes it becomes clear that he must solve the cold case in order to find the answer. Yet nearly a decade has passed—time for memories to fade, witnesses to vanish, evidence to disappear, and lies to become truth. But Will can’t crack either mystery without the help of the one person he doesn’t want involved: his girlfriend and Jeffrey Tolliver’s widow, medical examiner Sara Linton. When the past and present begin to collide, Will realizes that everything he values is at stake . . .

Confessions on the 7:45 by Lisa Unger

Everyone has a secret… Now she knows yours. Selena Murphy is commuting home from her job in the city when the train stalls out on the tracks. She strikes up a conversation with a beautiful stranger in the next seat, and their connection is fast and easy. The woman introduces herself as Martha and confesses that she’s been stuck in an affair with her boss. Selena, in turn, confesses that she suspects her husband is sleeping with the nanny. When the train arrives at Selena’s station, the two women part ways, presumably never to meet again. But days later, Selena’s nanny disappears. Soon Selena finds her once-perfect life upended. As she is pulled into the mystery of the missing nanny, and as the fractures in her marriage grow deeper, Selena begins to wonder, who was Martha really? But she is hardly prepared for what she’ll discover.

Near Dark by Brad Thor

The world’s largest bounty has just been placed upon America’s top spy. His only hope for survival is to outwit, outrun, and outlast his enemies long enough to get to the truth. But for Scot Harvath to accomplish his most dangerous mission ever—one that has already claimed the lives of the people closest to him, including his new wife—he’s going to need help—a lot of it. Not knowing whom he can trust, Harvath finds an unlikely ally in Norwegian intelligence operative Sølvi Kolstad. Just as smart, just as deadly, and just as determined, she not only has the skills, but also the broken, troubled past to match Harvath’s own.

Invisible Girl by Lisa Jewell

Owen Pick’s life is falling apart. In his thirties, a virgin, and living in his aunt’s spare bedroom, he has just been suspended from his job as a geography teacher after accusations of sexual misconduct, which he strongly denies. Searching for professional advice online, he is inadvertently sucked into the dark world of incel—involuntary celibate—forums, where he meets the charismatic, mysterious, and sinister Bryn. Across the street from Owen lives the Fours family, headed by mom Cate, a physiotherapist, and dad Roan, a child psychologist. But the Fours family have a bad feeling about their neighbor Owen. He’s a bit creepy and their teenaged daughter swears he followed her home from the train station one night. Meanwhile, young Saffyre Maddox spent three years as a patient of Roan Fours. Feeling abandoned when their therapy ends, she searches for other ways to maintain her connection with him, following him in the shadows and learning more than she wanted to know about Roan and his family. Then, on Valentine’s night, Saffyre Maddox disappears—and the last person to see her alive is Owen Pick.

#bookoween #reading recommendations #book recs #Book Recommendations #reading recs #thrillers #fiction #new books #booklr #booklist #library #public library #halloween #reading list

12 notes · View notes

slashscowboyboots · 5 years ago

Text

Floor A (Part 1)

Dr. Izzy is in the house! (actually he’s in the basement)

Tag list: @izzysdenimjacket @malibubarbievince @spacey-aceys-bitch @rock-em-sock-em-rock-n-roll @sodalitefully @aheadfullofskies @vandova @awrestilinggirlwholoves80sbands @terriiiiible

Notes: this is a companion piece to @izzysdenimjacket‘s Dr. Duff series “Medicine Man” (do yourself a favor and check it out, Dr. Duff is soo dreamy), set in the same hospital. There’s a couple of appearances by @malibubarbievince as the lovely Kayli and @izzysdenimjacket returns as Susan. This is the first of four parts.

It all began with a promotion.

Not yours.

Kimberly Hanover had been promoted to COO of Thunders Memorial Hospital, and she had big designs.

Specifically, on your office.

Because you’d been hired last, you’d had the good fortune to have your own office, albeit small, away from the rest of Medical Billing. You’d acted like it was a terrible hardship to be separated from the rest of the staff, but you were secretly overjoyed you didn’t have to listen to those vultures gossiping and sniping while you worked.

But no more.

Kim-uh, MS. Hanover had stood in your office this morning and told you in her pleased, grating voice that This! Was! Going! To! Be! Great! Just knock out these two walls and voila! She was going to have an even bigger corner suite!

NO! your heart had screamed, Don’t put me in with those old biddies!

You would’ve loved to slap that smug grin off her face. “And since billing still doesn’t have any room for you, Y/N, we’re relocating you again.”

“Where?’ you’d asked, your heart pounding with dread.

You’d seen friendlier smiles on bloodthirsty hyenas. “Floor A.”

Holy shit, that’s the basement.

“She’s sending you to the dungeon?” Kayli asked, aghast.

“Oh, fuck, dude. What a bitch,” Susan echoed.

The three of you were having lunch at the hospital cafeteria, a rare event since your schedules seldom permitted it. Kayli worked the peds front desk and Susan was a nurse in cardio, and the three of you had eaten lunch together since you met in high school.

“You know what’s down there in the basement, don’t ya?” Susan asked.

“The hospital hasn’t had a mouse problem for some time now,” Kayli protested.

“No,” Susan smiled ominously. “Dr. Isbell is down there.”

“The pathologist?” you asked.

She drew a slow line across her forehead. “He’ll be cutting people up right outside your door.”

EWW. You hadn’t even thought about that, they were sticking you down there beside the morgue.

Is it going to stink down there? you wondered.

“Dr. Isbell gives me the creeps.” Susan bit into a fry. “I’ve only seen him one time, and he’s really skinny and pale. His hair is dyed black, he wears nothing but black, and he looks like one of the Addams family.”

“He’s got a nice ass and a nose ring,” Kayli said, crunching a carrot stick. “I think he’s hot.”

“You would!” Susan laughed, swatting her with a banana. “You had that Marilyn Manson phase we all had to survive.”

“That was Nine Inch Nails, thank you. Although Dr. Isbell does kinda resemble Trent Reznor, if you squint a little bit.” She tilted her head and did just that.

“Well, congratulations,” Susan said. “Your neighbor wants to fuck you like an animal. Among other things.”

You slumped down in your chair. You’d heard of Dr. Isbell the way most people had heard of the boogeyman. He was seldom seen, yet there were more rumors surrounding him than anyone else at the hospital. You’d heard he was a vampire, dragging his victims to his lair to drain them and saw them apart. That even his lab coat was black. That he had been a contract killer for the government. That he’d been a ninja. That he’d been a sumo wrestler. That he’d shot JFK. That he was Bigfoot. That he was the yeti. That he knew the Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique because he was a former member of the Deadly Viper Assassination Group, Code Name: Green Mamba (that last bit came out of Susan after a few too many Whiteclaws).

“That black hog is his,” Kayli said.

You blinked. “Excuse me?” How turned on by animals was this guy?

“He drives an all black Harley. And he looks damn fine riding it.” Kayli stuck her tongue out at Susan. “You gotta admit, that’s one sweet-looking bike.”

Susan thought about it. “Okay, yeah that is a cool bike. But Dr. Creepy is never going to be Dr. McKagan. He’s McDreamy. Or McSteamy.” She sighed deeply, placing her face in her hands.

“‘McSteamy,’” Kayli snorted, then rolled her eyes. “My neighbor’s dog left a ‘McSteamy’ on the sidewalk today and I almost stepped in it.”

“Shut up!” Susan elbowed her. “Some of us have taste.”

Kayli arched an eyebrow at her, but didn’t say anything.

Then Susan’s face turned serious as they both looked at you. “Good luck with your new digs. And if you ever go missing, we’ll know who did it.”

This was your last afternoon in your little corner office. It wasn’t much larger than a broom closet, but it had been an oasis to you.

A home.

And you didn’t want to leave it and share a basement with a bunch of cadavers and a mysterious Addams Family biker wielding a bone saw.

You’d been directed to arrive early and move your things on Monday, so you’d boxed up your few decorations and placed them in the ripped box Kimberly had so thoughtfully provided.

After you clocked out, you’d trudged to your car, your feet heavy with disappointment and dread. Even your purse seemed to weigh you down.

As you passed the Doctors' parking lot, you looked up in time to see a slender figure clad in black silhouetted against a pink and red sky, standing next to an all black motorcycle. He snapped the strap on his helmet, then threw one long leg over the bike. It rumbled to life, low and throaty and sexy, then he rode off into the sunset.

#izzy stradlin x reader #guns n roses x reader #izzy stradlin fanfiction #guns n roses fanfic

62 notes · View notes

purplebenjy · 5 years ago

Text

1998

For the second time in his life, Benjy Fenwick had just been dumped. And it still sucked.

What had happened with Ollie had been as close to amiable as break ups could be, but what happened with Lisa cut deep.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

She’d said this against his lips when his hands were under her shirt. He’d laughed, thinking she was joking because she didn’t like what he was doing, but when Lisa had pulled away fully, Benjy had stopped laughing. He redid his pants and sat up in his back seat of the Honda Civic his brothers all pooled together to buy him for his sixteenth.

“Uh, okay? Why?”

Lisa had shrugged and fixed her blouse.

“I’ve got a crush on someone else.”

Jealousy had bloomed in his chest by then and Benjy felt his jaw twitch when he spat out the word “who?”

Lisa fished a pack of cigarettes out of the front pocket of her jeans and lit up. Annoyed, Benjy leaned over her and rolled down the window.

“Does it matter?”

Benjy sucks on his bottom lip for a second.

“What’s he got that I don’t?”

It was pathetic and he knew it, but he was blindsided. He thought things were going good. Not great, but good. Lisa was hot with long blonde hair and good tits. Not great, but good. She liked the same bands as he did, always dated skateboarders and tried to look like Courtney Love. She’d taken one of his flannels and hadn’t given it back and sometimes she blew him in his car after they went to the movies. It wasn’t love, but he was having a good time with her. He liked her a whole lot and she gave him attention and clout among his friends. He figured they’d at least go to prom together in a few months. Benjy watched as she shifted a little in her seat, ashed her cigarette out the window.

“He’s just different, Benjy. I don’t know.”

“Different how?” He tried to keep his voice level, but it still cracked. He reached for her hand but she pulled away.

“You’re a little uh....gay.”

He stared at her as she turned her face to look out the window.

“Groovy.” Benjy muttered, before sliding up and over the center console and into the driver’s seat. He punched the radio off, cutting Cheryl Crow off mid song. They sat in silence, the only sound Benjy’s exhaust. He pulled up in front of Lisa’s house and his brakes screeched as he parked.

“Benjy...” He flicked his eyes up to the backseat to look at her.

“It’s nothing personal.”

Before he could even say anything, she slid out of his back seat and was gone. This sentence has been haunting him ever since. It’s been two days and today when he saw her after fifth period, she was sucking face with that asshole named Trent.

Benjy doesn’t quite remember what happened after that, just Trent’s fist in his face and now his lip is swelling up. He cut the rest of the day and now he was here in the skatepark, trying and failing to try the new kind of flip he’d been practicing for weeks.

“It’s nothing personal.”

“Shit-“

He falls hard on his back, his board going up the half pipe and then falling back down to hit him in the ribs. As he slowly gets up, Benjy decides one thing;

It’s time to make it personal.

It starts out innocent enough, a couple cans on spray paint that he finds on clearance at the hardware store. Finding Asshole Trent’s car is easy too, he’s got a racing stripe on a fucking Jeep. He’s a surfer instead of a skater if the stupid board on the top of his stupid car is any stupid indication. Benjy doesn’t stalk them per se, just follows them to the beach. And waits in his own car until they run off into the waves. And pulls his sweatshirt tight around his face when he runs out of his car, low to the ground, doing a somersault partially to cover more distance but also cause it’s fun. He stands out wildly at the beach, and when he glances around, he sees a mother start to pull her two children in the opposite direction, glaring at him. Benjy snorts out his first laugh in two days and shakes the spray paint can, spraying the day-glo orange over the white Jeep with its stupid green racing stripe;

“Nothing personal.”

Trent’s stupid car, now complete with Benjy’s new tag, was the talk of the school. Most people were able to figure out it was him, but no one beyond Lisa and her new surfer girl aesthetic seemed to care. Benjy had a new hobby. The nothing personal tag started showing up all over his high school campus and around town, usually in whatever color was on clearance that week.

Suki was taking on extra kids during the day as a pseudo daycare so she didn’t have the time to notice that Benjy was late nearly every day thanks to either detention or running around, tagging the town. She didn’t notice, not at all, until he got a ride home in the back of a police cruiser.

All he was trying to do was to tag “nothing personal” on a wall on the side of an alley, when he’d gotten spotted. He’d stopped wearing the hoodie, mostly cause it was warming up but also cause it kept fucking with his hair-naturally that would be his downfall. Benjy’d been so good at out running the cops, so good at climbing trees and dirt mounds and sides of buildings to get away, but the bane of his existence, of course, was a chain link fence. The cop had basically picked him off the links like an apple and had detained him easily, pushing Benjy up against the fence after he’d pulled him down in a way he didn’t totally hate after he’d noticed how built the cop’s arms were. Pissed at himself for getting caught and at this strangely hot cop for catching him, Benjy refused to tell him anything, which resulted in a very confusing search for his wallet after he’d been handcuffed. The cop marched Benjy back to his squad car and all but thrown him inside. He hears the cop call in his name to the radio, reading it off of his driver’s license. He hears something he can’t quite make out and from his spot in the backseat through the bars, he sees hot cop balk.

“Are you sure?”

“Affirmative.”

The car’s engine flips over.

“Where do you live, kid?”

“Get fucked.”

Hot Cop mumbles something and his car squawks once as he starts to back up. And now Benjy still sat there, in the backseat with the bracelets digging into his wrists as the cop talks to his mom. Benjy hears the sound of another car pull up behind them and he twists around just in time to see the person get out of the car. And when Benjy sees who it is, fear shoots through him for the first time that afternoon.

It’s Alastor Moody, his dad’s old partner. He’s not in uniform like the hot cop, instead he’s in a pretty nice suit. When Al looks into the window, Benjy shrinks back into the seat. He watches him as he speaks to the other officer, who then nods and gets into the car Moody showed up in. He twists back around and something tugs at his chest when he watches his mom wipe at her face, obviously upset. He didn’t get why this had to be a big deal, it was just a stupid wall. He wasn’t hurting anyone, if anything he was making a boring thing look better. He sits up straighter now, his argument formed, but it dies in his throat when Al opens the driver side door and wordlessly starts the car. Benjy waits for him to say something, anything. For him to start yelling at him, tell him he’s a disappointment, a delinquent, anything. But nothing. Just silence. Especially when Moody punches off the radio.

“Are you going to read me my rights or what, old man?”

He’s trying to goad him, and it works. Kind of. Moody quietly rolls into a stop and glances up at him in the review mirror.

“You’re not under arrest.”

Somehow this makes Benjy more uneasy. He tugs at the handcuffs, making them clink.

“Then can you take these off?”

“Nope.”

Benjy grunts and props himself up against the door, chin on the windowsill, as much as he can be to be out of view of Al.

They drive for what feels like half an hour, but is probably ten more minutes, getting further out of the middle of town.

“Al?”

“So it’s Al now, not old man?”

“....are you going to kill me?”

Alastor chuckles darkly.

“Probably not.”

“Do you have your gun on you?”

“Do you need me to answer that?”

“Shit.”

He hears Moody chuckle again, and before Benjy knows it, they’re on the Golden Gate Bridge, driving out of the city completely.

“Are you taking me to military school?”

“Shut up, Benjy.”

He does, the events of the past few weeks playing in his head. Lisa. The tag. “You’re a little uh...gay.” Nothing personal. His mom crying. His spray paint covered hands forced behind his back right this moment.

“Al?”

“You’re really bad at following directions.”

“Do I seem too gay to you?”

The eyes that flick back towards him at the next stop light are confused now.

“Are you gay?”

“No.”

“But you....”

“You can be with guys and not be gay.”

“Okay okay, bite my head off. I’m trying to learn. So what’s seeming ‘too gay?’”

Benjy shrugs as best as he can.

“I dunno. Like I’m not masculine enough or something. Fucked up and wrong. Weird or girly or something-“

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Al says forcibly, before hitting his turn signal and exiting the freeway they were now on. “Well I mean, you’re a degenerate-“

“And artist-“

“-but other than that. Nothing. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Benjy sits up properly now, not totally believing him. They’re quiet again, but it’s not the scary quiet from before, it’s different. Loaded. Benjy waits a few more minutes before he breaks it.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Yes.”

“....did I uh, say sorry about that yet?”

Moody pulls over, getting out of the car and sliding into the backseat beside Benjy. He undoes the handcuffs and clips them to his belt.

“I’m not the one you need to be sorry to, Benj.”

“Well is someone else gonna come and kidnap me so I can apologize to them-I’ll shut up now.” He cuts himself off based on Moody’s look. “Who do I need to be sorry to? My mom?”

Moody sighs and gets out of the car, walking around the front to open the other door.

“Get out. Do you know where we are?”

“Uh...” He looks around, seeing older kids with backpacks, some on bikes and skateboards. Someone’s playing guitar on a bench. “Somewhere with hippies?”

Moody chuckles, ushering Benjy to the sidewalk.

“You’re not wrong. This is UC Berkeley, Benj. Your art teacher thinks you’re good enough to get in here if you keep going in the way you’ve been. And I mean, I don’t know nothing about nothing but from what I’ve seen, I don’t think you’re too shabby either . But you know who they don’t let in?”

It clicks as Moody stares him down.

“.....I’m guessing people with arrest records?”

Moody claps him on the shoulder.

“Bingo. I’m not ever gonna bail you out like this again, kid. I did this for your mom and your dad, yeah, but uh...I mostly did it for you. This looks a lot better to me than prison but...”

Moody shrugs.

“If you wanna throw away something great, that’s your choice. But if you do, the only person you’ll need to say sorry to is yourself.”

Moody lets go of his shoulder and gets in the car. Benjy stares at campus, the ideas Moody planted wiggling around in his brain. He could get in here? People thought he was good enough? He looks a little closer at the people sitting on the grass. They’re dressed a little strange, loose clothes and long hair and just...different. Like him.

He turns to the police cruiser window, hitting it with his knuckles until Moody cracks it.

“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with me?”

“Other than too much energy and a bad haircut? No.”

“Rude.” Benjy fails to hide his smile in a scowl. His smile grows as he looks at campus. It looks a lot more fun than prison; or even just regular old high school. A strange thrill shoots through him when he notices one of the students on the grass is laying on the lap of another boy. They’re talking about something and the boy laying down laughs before reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind his boyfriend’s ear. Someone whizzes past him on roller skates and breaks the moment. Benjy turns back to the car window.

“Can I get a ride home?”

Moody takes a sip from his travel mug.

“Only if it’s in the back seat.”

Benjy groans.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Oh, and your mom told me to tell you you’re super grounded.”

“I figured.” Benj says with a shrug of his own as he casually opens the back door of the cop car and throws the few people across the street giving him strange looks a grin and a wave as he hops in.

“You keep the meter running?”

“I can still arrest you.”

Benjy laughs, suddenly a lot lighter. He sits on the side closest to campus so he can look at for as long as possible as Moody drives away.

“Al?”

“Yeah?”

Benjy leans forward as close to him as he can, face pressed up against the bars.

“Thanks.”

Al just nods, turning on FM radio.

“Don’t fuck it up.”

Benjy settles back in his seat, fingers twitching as he already wants to get home and sketch, suddenly much more motivated. He’s hoping he’s not grounded from that. He wants to get home and apologize, maybe even grovel and try to make it up to his mom. Unfortunately, right before they get to the bridge, they hit rush hour traffic. Benjy shifts in his seat, pressing his face against the bars again.

“Can you turn on the siren?”

“Nope.”

“Pussy.”

It might be a trick of the light, but he swears he sees Moody smile.

#drabble #moody #suki

1 note · View note

kenzieam · 6 years ago

Text

Druid - Chapter Six

Rating: M (smut, language, violence, mature themes, potential major character death)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt @iammarylastar @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @notimetoblog @captain-ariel-barnes @jaamesbbarnes @lancefvcker @bitsandbobsandstuff @softlybarnes @lovelybbarnes @buckitybarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @moonbeambucky @badassbaker @citylights221 @empress-of-boujee @shynara51 @diinofayce @casestudy-mw @jewels2876 @damnaged-princess @everythingisoverrated @allmyfanficfaves @melgoodwin @clarabella960 @curvybihufflepuff @angryschnauzer @wowspideyholland @sergeantwhitewolf @smilexcaptainx @plaidcat4815 @shirukitsune @chook007

If you want off this list, send me a DM

Thank you, my lovelies, for your kind words and support XOXO

******************************************************************************

“Levi.” He stumbles over my name, sounding blown away, almost like he’d just been kicked in the guts.

“Hi, James.” I reply and he winces; from hearing my voice or my use of his given name?

Steve clears his throat and steps to the side, pulling Nat against him. He eyes his best friend carefully before turning his gaze back to me; something flashes in his eyes, something knowing and he smiles ever so slightly.

“Why don’t you two catch up?” He asks, glancing down at Nat, brow raised. “We’ll take you out another night as thanks, right, babe?” At her nod he resumes his piercing stare, directed partially at me, partially at the leather and denim-clad man shifting uneasily beside his monster bike.

Neither James nor I seem to possess the ability to answer, so Steve continues; I both curse and love his gentle insistence, giving us the push we seem to need.

“Yeah, go have dinner.” He turns to James. “Nat and I are buying Lev’s house, we were just taking her out to celebrate.”

James shifts his weight, leather boots squeaking quietly, a massive hand rasps against the stubble on his jaw. “Brother, I can’t intrude-”

Now Nat’s in on it too. “No, it’s fine.” She looks my way. “Tomorrow night, okay, Levi?” There’s a quiet plea in her eyes. She’s worried about James and I too, and in the same gentle-hearted way as her husband, she’s trying to help us.

I’d be a major fucking bitch if I said no to this, it’s just eating and talking, can I not get through that?

Well, my original plan was to see if the fates pushed James and I together, and the fates have definitely done that.

“Okay.” I murmur, forcing a smile, even though inside I’m shaking with nerves. What if I’ve come to this realization, that I love James and want to start a family with him, and he uses this dinner as his opportunity to tell me to fuck off? I ran away like a brat a year ago and refused to even speak to him, I’d definitely deserve it.

Relief and something else far more vulnerable flash across his handsome face and, for the briefest second, I see the depths of the despair and anguish he’s been carrying and my heart clenches in a mix of shame and tenderness. I never want to see that again in his hypnotic eyes, never want to feel the abject misery he wears like a coat ever again.

Only good times, only happiness.

“Great!” Steve chirps. In a few short strides he’s at James’ side, slapping him hard on the back then turning back to me.

I take a hesitant step forward, swallow past my dry throat. “Any place in particular?” I ask James.

Steve, his hand clasping James’ shoulder, glances at his friend, waiting for his answer.

“How about the Station?”

I nod, unable to stop a smile. “Yeah, that would be nice. Can I meet you there? I drove down.” I point vaguely towards my Subaru. We might be meeting for dinner and to talk, but I know I won’t be able to survive straddling this man’s bike and clinging to his wide, hot body.

He nods, and if he’s disappointed I’m not going to spider-monkey him, it doesn’t show. He jolts again as Steve slaps his shoulder a second time.

“Have a good time. Levi, we’ll call you tomorrow. Trent said the papers should be ready by noon.”

“Yeah.” I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Thank you, you guys.” I embrace Nat and get a bone-crushing bear hug from Steve, not missing his breath of a whisper in my ear.

‘Just talk to him Levi, please don’t break his heart.’

Shit, if the Captain only knew my thoughts.

They leave, pulling away in Steve’s massive jacked-up pickup; it’s similar to Thor’s monster truck, but is painted a deep maroon red, almost black cherry.

James clears his throat, reminding me why I’m still standing here. “You don’t have to-” he begins, sounding like a defeated little boy.

Hot shame rises in my throat. Christ, I did a number on him, I need to make this right, I need to let James know how I really feel about him.

“No, I want to.” I turn back to him, reach over tentatively to take his hand. He tenses, eyes darting to me and back down to our hands, before relaxing minutely. His fingers jolt in mine, as if hit by a current.

I felt it too.

“I’ll meet you there?” I glance down. “I’m not really dressed to ride.” It’s true, I’m wearing a boho printed maxi skirt and knotted black tank, a few inches of midriff showing, no matter how much I pull and tug at the shirt.

James swallows visibly. “Sure.” His voice has a noticeably rasp to it.

“Let’s go...?” I half ask, half declare. He’s standing here like installation art and I’d rather be sitting somewhere a bit more private than at public sidewalk when I tell him what is half-bursting from my chest.

He shakes himself loose visibly, and a nervous, embarrassed grin pulls at his adorable lips. “Sure.” He repeats.

He waits at the curb, sitting on his idling bike until I pull out, then falls in place behind me. He’s wearing a full-face black helmet, and it’s slightly disconcerting not being able to see his eyes, so I clear my throat and focus on the road ahead.

The Station is just that. Functioning as a railway station until the mid-fifties, it was converted into a restaurant/lounge not too long after. It’s the most popular restaurant in town, managing to project a friendly, hip vibe even though it hasn’t been renovated in my lifetime. It’s a safe option; not too formal, not too relaxed, especially if we sit on the lounge side.

I park at that end of the building and James pulls his bike beside me. I step out then turn and reach back inside to grab the light cardigan on the passenger seat. Too late, I realize this probably put my ass on display for James to look at and jerk back upright, whirling to catch James quickly looking away. I fumble nervously with it, cursing myself for the slip-up. He’s suddenly beside me, breath warm on my bare shoulder and I fight a shudder of rising desire. I glance silently towards him, see his cheeks are pink, eyes studiously lowered to where his hands help my arms through the sweater.

His touch is scorching and his hands rest for the briefest moment on top of my shoulders after he pulls the cardigan completely up. I’m just about to lean back against him when he lets go and steps past. Stepping up onto the sidewalk, he pauses then turns back to me, holding out his hand with a hopeful look.

His smile when I reach out and accept his proffered hand is dazzling and it makes my heart skip a few beats. He pulls me closer than he probably would have if we were just friends, or if I hadn’t accepted his hand so easily just now. He holds the door open and waits until I walk through.

Although still tentative, he seems to be gaining confidence at my receptivity, leading me to a booth in the corner.

A waitress appears out of nowhere. “Drinks?”

James glances at me. I quickly debate then go for it. “Dirty Corona, please.”

He grins. “Two please.” After she leaves, he turns back to me. “Haven’t had one of those in a while.”

“Well, it is the Station’s specialty.” I tease. If it is, it’s only because our senior class first decided to drain the neck of a fresh Corona and refill it with spiced rum before adding the lime and then beat that horse to death, ordering it practically non-stop until the restaurant gave in and made it a regular menu item.

She’s back, dropping two sweating bottles and the shots of rum if front of us then pulling out her notepad. “Have you decided what to eat?”

I glance at James. “Do they still have fish tacos?”

He nods.

“I’ll have those and a side of calamari, please.”

James settles on a bacon cheeseburger with sweet potato fries and I lean forward covertly, motioning him closer. As he leans forward, I grin, feeling a little flirty.

“Are you sharing those fries?” I tease.

His brows lift, obviously not expecting me to be playful. He recovers quickly. “Only if you share the calamari.”

“Deal.” I reply, reaching for my beer. I drain the neck, then pour in the rum. James watches me intently as I squeeze some lime juice into the beer before stuffing the wedge down into the neck. His eyes flick to my throat as I swallow and I feel a bolt of heat.

“So... what have you been up to?” James asks quietly, doing the same to his own drink. There’s a hesitancy in his voice that I ache to relieve. The ease in which we’ve been interacting for the last few minutes has only emboldened me, confirmed my burgeoning hope that we can work, that there was something between us, and still is.

“Honestly? A lot of thinking, a shit-load of tattooing, trying to distract myself.”

Surprised longing darkens James’ gaze and he blinks a few times, concentrating hard on his thumbnail worrying at his beer’s label. He swallows hard but doesn’t speak.

“I’m sorry, James. I was wrong to run away like I did.” It’s easier to say the words than I thought it would be.

He physically jolts, obviously not daring to hope for such a confession. His eyes dart back up to mine before dropping back to the bottle. His exhale is unsteady. “I wish you’d stayed. We should have talked.”

“I know. I was scared.”

“Of me?” There’s a quiet despair in his voice.

“No.” I chew my bottom lip until it stings sharply. “Of what I felt, being with you.”

His eyes lock with mine and he blinks rapidly; burgeoning hope warring with painful wariness.

I let out a long breath, run my hands through my hair as I fight for the right words. “I had a crush on you in high school, maybe even more than a crush, but I told myself these last ten years it was nothing, that you never had the same feelings. And then, when I came back, and you started glaring at me like I stomped on your puppy, I figured it was because you hated me, or thought I was distracting Thor or something. I never thought it could be because you wanted me.” I pause, swallowing hard before I continue. “When you kissed me in the clubhouse kitchen, it woke something up in me; something I had no idea even existed. After that, Thor’s attention wasn’t what I wanted anymore, but it all happened so fast... I panicked.”

James swallows hard, bottom lip trembling slightly before he replies. “Loved you.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t just because I ‘wanted’ you, I loved you.”

Jesus. But he said ‘loved’, past tense. “Not anymore, though?”

He seems surprised, glancing back up at me with a frown of confusion.

“You said ‘loved me’, not anymore?”

A hint of his old cocky grin, a flash of relief in his eyes. “No.” He takes a deep breath and continues, his voice warm and rough. “Not loved. I love you. I always have.”

Sudden, hot tears spring to my eyes and I can’t stop a shuddering gasp. He can’t, after all the shit I’ve put him through, still feel that way.

He leans forward to speak, only to sit back sharply in surprise when the waitress appears, all but throwing our plates on the table with her near-demented efficiency.

“Enjoy!” She chirps and I wonder if she’s so focused on her job she honestly didn’t realize the emotional miasma she just walked into. She is genuinely oblivious, already turning on her heel to hit another table.

I sniff, managing to rein in my tears and reach for my fork, hesitantly spearing a piece of calamari. I need some time to process James’ words and he seems to realize this. He’s quiet as he assembles his burger, flicking careful glances at me. He looks relieved I haven’t just leapt to my feet and ran out.

“I-” I bite my bottom lip again. “I didn’t know, I didn’t-” I look up, trying to convey through my eyes what I’m having such a shit time forming into words. “You always looked so pissed off.”

“I know.” He replies quietly, food forgotten as he watches me. “I wasn’t exactly obvious. And I was mad, but because you were with Thor and not me, that I’d blown my chance again.”

I think back to his flirty, friendly demeanor as I teased him about piercings, before Thor appeared and wrapped me up in his whirlwind; he had been trying, had been interested; I just hadn’t recognized it. Shit.

He reads my thoughts. “It’s not your fault. I could have said something instead of just sulking, but Thor’s... Thor; he’s like a god or something, women just fall all over him.”

He honestly thinks he doesn’t compare to Thor? That he too isn’t some earthbound god?

“I did,” I admit. “He is charming, but there was always you in the background. I didn’t understand why you were always staring at me, but I never stopped to ask myself how I knew that, if I wasn’t watching for you too?”

A flicker of surprise in his blue eyes, and he’s silent for a heartbeat, contemplating my words. I myself hadn’t even wondered this until recently, how I always seemed to know where James was, what he was doing, even though I was usually firmly planted in Thor’s lap.

We’re quiet for a while, but it’s comfortable; I pretend to be sneaky, snatching a few of James’ fries, and he grins widely, reaching a massive paw over to grasp a goodly portion of my calamari, laughing out loud when I squeak and try to wrestle them back. He relents, but his hand stays in mine and, for a beat, that low-level static charge between us seems to quiet, fall into a contented hum. He’s the first to pull his hand free and return to his food, but his eyes don’t leave mine.

One beer turns into two and, before I know it, the thought that’s been running rampant through my head dodges my filters and tumbles out of my mouth. “I don’t want this to end.” I say as we share the Station’s famous dessert, ice cream and a sinful brownie so decadent and soft, it’s still half batter.

His eyebrows quirk. “What to end?” His voice is low but wary.

Oh well, I’m committed now. “Tonight, we’re done eating, but I don’t want it to end.” Too late, I realize I’ve been holding my spoon too long in my mouth, my tongue curling in the bowl, trying to lick the last of the brownie, giving James’ an unintentional show.

A warm grin lights up his face. “It doesn’t have to; did you want to come over? We could watch a movie.”

I mask my abject delight with a teasing lilt. “Big scary bikers have movie nights? They aren’t out rabble-rousing and partying all night?”

“Not this one; some of my younger brothers, yes; but not me, not anymore.” He grins again. “And what the hell is rabble-rousing? Some Texas thing?” He distracts me for a moment, licking his own spoon with swoon-worthy attention; damn, these brownies are epic.

I snort a giggle, rolling my eyes. “That would be great, James. I just need to book a hotel room and drop off my stuff-”

“You can stay with me.” At my surprised look, he continues. “Not like that, not if you don’t want to. I have a guest room, save you some cash.”

I ponder the wisdom of that. The cash part doesn’t bother me, but are we ready? Not if you don’t want to, echoes in my head. James isn’t pushing me, he isn’t expecting me to share his bed; he’s willing to go slow. I have to admit the thought of cuddling with him on the couch is definitely enticing.

“Okay, but-”

He holds up his hand, correctly interpreting my next words. “No pressure, just friends.”

“Friends.” I agree.

His house is surprisingly homey and comfortable. I expected a full-on bachelor pad, but he’s taken pains to surpass that. Sure, his bookcase is still 2 x 6’s and cinder blocks, and one corner of the living room seems dedicated to an indoor workshop, but if you didn’t know it was an MC President living here, you wouldn’t know by looking around.

A cat twines sinuously around my legs, purring like a chainsaw. I say cat in the loosest terms, it’s roughly the size of a pitbull, it’s tail crooked and one ear chewed. James leans down to stroke it’s head and the chainsaw roar increases.

“Is that a cat or a cougar?” I tease.

James glances back up at me, his grin lighting up the room. “Lilly found him as a kitten but their other cat kept beating him up, so she begged me to take him.”

Lilly? Oh yeah, Steve and Nat’s oldest. “Aww, Uncle Bucky.”

He smirks but I think he’s secretly pleased.

“What’s his name?” I’m expecting something like Harley, or Killer or something else appropriately biker for a cat that reminds me of a short-haired Crookshanks, so I only stare dumbly for a second when James responds.

“Pickles.”

“Pickles?”

He rolls his eyes. “She was four, you’re lucky it’s an actual word; her favorite doll was named Shnork for years.”

I find it incredibly heart-warming, not to mention ovary-exploding that he’s so attentive to his nieces, so willing to do anything for them, even take in their cat and keep its ridiculous name to keep them happy.

Apparently satisfied, Pickles sashays back out, taking his roaring purr with him.

Remembering why I’m here, James snatches the remote off his coffee table and holds it out to me, the TV chiming musically behind us as it turns on.

“I’ve got Netflix, you want to find a movie? I’ll be right back.” He disappears and I busy myself scrolling the menus. I have one queued up by the time he gets back. He’s lost his cut and boots and has pulled on a fresh shirt.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I just had to make sure Pickles hasn’t torn apart your bed, little shit’s got some sort of sixth sense for making trouble.”

I snort, amused. “Can I use your bathroom?”

A few minutes later, we’re finally sitting on the couch. My bags are safely deposited in the guest room, Pickles has been pushed outside and James has brought out snacks. We’re sitting close, but not touching.

And, it turns out, not watching the movie.

“Tell me about yourself, Levi.” James asks suddenly, and I realize that, although the movie is barely past the opening credits, he’s been watching me instead of it the entire time.

“Not much to tell,” I evade.

“I doubt that, you ended up in the polar opposite career from your chosen field, you must at least have some interesting tattooing stories to tell.”

I do, it turns out; and James is a rapt audience. His throaty chuckles and outright laughing sends shivers up and down my spine. The movie is forgotten, we’re facing each other on the couch, me cross-legged; James facing forwards, his ankle resting on his knee, upper body turned to face me because honestly, he’s too big and muscular to fit sideways on his own couch.

The stories flow easily, and I’m surprised how comfortable I am talking with James, he’s a good listener and I sense this is more than just him on good behavior, he’s one of those genuine people who actually cares to listen to others, it’s a rare trait nowadays.

Before I know it, the movie is over. “Okay, your turn.”

His chuckles fade and he wipes his mouth. “Mine?”

“Yeah. You must have some interesting stories.”

His gaze becomes guarded. “There’s things I can’t tell you. About the club, and what we do.”

This thought has already occurred to me, many times over the past year. Even when I was with Thor I understood this; it’s called ‘club business’ and it functions on a strict need-to-know basis, and the women around the club never, never, need to know. It used to bother me but, along with my newfound feelings for James is a grudging acceptance of this. I’ve gotten to know the people in this club and have chosen to look past it.

“No, I know. I mean stuff you can. Funny stories; you and Steve growing up.”

He relaxes slightly at not having to explain ‘club business’ further and tips his head back, thinking.

I sit back and listen, letting his words and deep voice flow over me. I’m hard-pressed to think of any other time in my life when I’ve felt this relaxed and content. There’s a strong feeling of safety and security surrounding James and my body seems to instinctively seek this from him, subconsciously yearn for it. I scoot towards him, my heart melting at the wide, surprised smile that greets me in return. James tentatively lifts his arm from the back of the couch, an invitation to move even closer and I don’t stop to think, I just move.

His chest is wide and warm and I can’t help but snuggle closer. He shudders against me, his heavy arm carefully settling on my shoulders. His scent is intoxicating; musk and motor oil and leather, a hint of whiskey and danger and something inside me, something that’s been restless and edgy my whole life, slows and takes a deep breath, settles and curls up to sleep. I feel him drop his head, press his nose into my hair and inhale deep and long, exhale with a barely audible groan.

We’re getting awfully serious awfully fast and, while my body is clamoring for more, I force myself to speak, to redirect and slow us down. I tense when the first thing out of my mouth reaches my ears.

“What happened to your arm?”

Open mouth, insert foot.

If he’s offended, he’s good at hiding it. Instead, he takes a deep, reflective breath, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “An accident, five years ago.”

I wait for him to elaborate and his hand starts to trace gentle random patterns on my shoulder. It’s all I can do to not start purring like a cat.

“Her name was Daria. The only other girl I’ve ever wanted to put my patch on, besides you.” He continues. “I was trying to get past my feelings for you, start fresh. I, uh... the bike hit a patch of gravel and laid out. It all seemed to happen in slow motion... I tried to control it, keep us, or at least Daria away from this steel post we were flying towards.” He pauses for so long I wonder if he’s going to continue, then starts again, his voice no longer completely steady. “I missed. When I woke up, I was in the hospital and two weeks had passed. I’d hit the post hard enough to literally rip my arm off. Daria was killed instantly. I missed her funeral, closed casket.”

“Oh my god,” I murmur, tears trickling down my cheeks. I never would have asked if I’d had any idea-

“I would have given up, laid down and died if not for the club. They kept me going, kicked my ass when I whined too much. Steve got me into a therapist when shit got bad. I was lucky, and my shrink knew a guy who knew a guy working in experimental prosthetics. In exchange for letting them publish in some medical journal I received their most advanced prototype.”

“Does it hurt?”

“It aches sometimes,” he replies. “The scars itch.” There’s a hesitation in his voice, like others in the past have been repulsed by this. I appreciate his willingness to bare his soul like this.

“I think it’s beautiful.” I murmur, and mean it. I reach across his lap to pull his metal hand closer. He removed his glove earlier and, while he tenses when I first touch him, he lets me study it, trail my fingertips along the plates and up to his wrist. I play with his fingers, measure the span of his palm, marvel at the full inch his fingers reach past mine, at the latent strength in his grip.

I feel his lips press to my hair, then his cheek rest on the top of my head. He doesn’t speak again, and neither do I.

The most unbelievable serenity is flooding my body, spreading through my limbs.

This is what it feels like to finally come home.

I let the steady beat of James’ heart lull me to sleep.

#bucky barnes #au bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky and lev #bucky barnes angst

30 notes · View notes

nadja-antipaxos · 2 years ago

Text

nine - mirrorball

Previously - Eight || Masterlist || Next - Ten

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: kissing, cuddling, making out, oral sex (male receiving), swearing, mention of panic attacks

Note: We have one more chapter left! This chapter takes place between 2x11-2x12

Word Count: 4,160

It’s almost Sharon’s last day and Ted is all abuzz with her perfect farewell gift. Priyala has seen the team perform “Bye Bye Bye” three times. She wonders if Jamie ever had a boy band workshop because he’s alarmingly good. She came by to drop off lunch for Ted and has stayed much longer than she thought.

“You’re all brilliant. She’s gonna love it. Now, I really really have to go.”

“See you at dinner?” Ted asks touching her shoulder.

“Yeah. I hope it doesn’t end up in the paper.” Priyala shakes her head.

Isaac steps forward with a stern look on his face.

“If you and Coach need us to go after those bloody photographers—”

“I don’t want you to incriminate yourselves, gents. But I appreciate the thought.” She smiles and walks off with a wave. The breeze ruffles her tailored yellow coat. She pulls it tighter accentuating her curves. Ted looks over at the team to see most of them still have their eyes on her. He exchanges a look with the coaches.

“Respectfully, gaffer,” Jamie scratches the back of his neck,” your girl’s got back.”

There’s a murmur from the team. Ted feels the warmth in his face. Jamie has never been shy about being attracted to Priyala and he’s not a threat, but Ted’s not sure how to proceed. He knows when he tells her about it she’s going to take the compliment.

“I’m guessing you mean her figure a la Sir-Mix-A-Lot and not her spine?” Ted raises his eyebrows.

“She is a beautiful woman and our coach is a lucky man.” Sam’s voice is pleasant and clearly trying to clear the awkwardness.

“Whistle! Whistle! All right! That’s enough fucking about. Let’s run it again!” Roy barks.

Since Sharon tried to pull an Irish Exit, Ted takes her out for a goodbye drink and can’t make dinner with Priyala. He promises to call after he’s done, but it’s late enough she falls asleep on her sofa to reruns of A Bit of Fry and Laurie. The vibrating of her phone on the table wakes her up.

“You’re lucky I’m such a cool girlfriend.” She yawns.

“Um, yeah, sorry this is so late, Pri.” Ted clears his throat.

“Hey, what’s going on?” She sits up and tucks her black hair behind her ear.

“I know it’s late and the girls are with their dad—but can you come over? Please?”

“Yeah. I’m right there.” Priyala stands up.

When she enters his apartment, Ted hands her the phone. Her body stiffens as she reads his conversation with Trent Crimm. She gives him his phone back with trembling hands.

“Okay, Shelley is fucking dead. I’m gonna march over to his place. Murder him with my fucking bare hands and I’ll fucking get away with it cause all I watched in college was Law and Order.” She rushes out of the living room to the door, but Ted steps in front of her.

“Baby, you’re not committin’ any felonies for me.”

“At least let me egg his house or spit on him or—or something—after all, you did for him this asshole thinks he can just sell your secrets to the highest bidder? And fuck Trent Crimm for writing it. Does that hipster fuck ride a bike? I’m gonna destroy it.” She’s shaking with fury and tears burn in her dark eyes. “I’m gonna call my grandma and get a curse to put on both of them. Use whatever evil eye killed her curry plant.”

“Shh, don’t cry, Pencils, don’t cry.” Ted cups her face in his hands.

“N-No, I’m mad. My stupid eyes get all weepy when I’m pissed which makes it fucking awful for fighting.”

Ted presses a kiss to her black hair and wraps his arms around her waist.

“Hey, nobody talks about my girl like that—even my girl.”

“I like being your girl.” She sighs.

He pulls her closer just wanting to feel her hold him. She squeezes him tight and he lets out the breath he’d been holding. He breathes in her perfume and focuses on the wonderful woman in his arms. Even though he won’t let her act on any of her violent urges, he appreciates how fiercely protective she is. He remembers at their first dinner she threatened to beat up all of London for calling him a wanker. He tilts her chin up and kisses her.

“Ted, you’re upset. I don’t know—I don’t wanna take advantage of—“

“You’re not, sweetheart. I just wanna kiss my girlfriend, okay?”

“Okay.” She relaxes in his hold and lets his mouth move with hers.

Priyala slips her hand through his amazing brown hair and he sighs at the feeling of her nails scraping the back of his neck. They rarely have any time alone with her kids and both juggling work. His hand wanders to the small of her back before squeezing her ass. She gasps and he glides his tongue into her mouth. The guys weren’t wrong. Her curves are amazing but he’s the only one who gets to touch them. She moans at the way his large hands move into the back pockets of her jeans.

“I think you’re an ass man, Ted Lasso.”

He growls low in his throat and pushes her against the wall. She looks at him, stunned.

“What about slow?”

“Can we go a bit faster?”

“God, yes. You’ve tortured me with those tight little khakis.”

He chuckles and lifts her off the ground. “Couch? Bed?”

“Bed.” Her hand grazes his belt buckle making him all but sprint to the bedroom.

He sets her down on the mattress and moves on top of her. She’s breathing heavy and smiling at him. His mouth finds hers and she rocks her hips against the growing hardness on his thigh. He moans her name so she does it again. He grips her ass and grinds down into her denim-clad core. They stay like that for a while just kissing and lazily grinding against each other. He feels like a teenager fumbling around in his bedroom. He doesn’t know where to start.

To his surprise, she pushes him back into the mattress and straddles him. His brown eyes grow wide as his breathing hitches. Her hand moves from his neck to his chest when she realizes how much he likes her on top of him. She tugs the ends of his sweater over his head and makes quick work of his button-down and rips it open. She nearly squeals at the sight of all the thick chest hair decorating his body down to his stomach. He’s a man. She licks his neck and hears him groan under her.

“You like that, don’t you, Ted?”

“Y-Yeah.”

She places wet open-mouthed kisses down his body and sees the way his mouth hangs open and his cheeks flush.

“Ohh, god, baby.”

“This okay?” Her teeth graze his chest.

“Y-Yes. Yes.” He nods repeatedly.

She moves down his body realizing what she wants to do.

“Edge of the bed.” She gets up while Ted moves unsure of where this is going. She removes her shoes and then his.

“What are you—“ The question dies in his throat as she unclasps his belt buckle. She tugs his pants down and sees the sizable tent in his boxer briefs. He watches, stunned as she slips his underwear further down freeing him.

“Ted. I mean, I thought I had an idea from the khakis but fuck…”

“W-What?”

“I definitely cannot fit all of that in my mouth.” She smirks devilishly and he groans at the idea. “But god I wanna try. Can I?”

“Yes, Pri, please.” He gulps.

She drops to her knees and it’s a beautiful sight. He wishes he could memorize it.

She takes him in her mouth and he shudders. Her hand takes hold of what doesn’t fit and she starts stroking him in time with her tongue. It’s been a while since someone’s done this, but this might be the best he’s ever had. She knows exactly what she’s doing and listens to all his little noises. He can’t think of anything besides her hot, wet mouth and smooth hand. His hand grips her hair and he shakes from keeping his hips still.

“It’s okay, Ted.”

He looks down at her and she nods. He bucks into her mouth and she moans around him. His fists the duvet.

“Oh, darlin’.” He throws his head back. “You’re s-so good. Don’t stop.”

She moans again and his grip tightens. Her tongue is heaven. Every once in a while she flashes him those dark eyes and he sinks further into the mattress. Lewd sounds fill the room while his heart pounds in his ears. He’s putty in her hands and she loves it.

“P-Pri, I’m can’t—I’m gonna—”

She ignores the warning and speeds up her ministrations. He can’t stop it. It’s building and building. His heart banging against his ribs as she takes him higher and higher.

“Oh! Ohh!” He comes with a shout and spills into her fantastic mouth. He’s absolutely winded and can’t move. She crawls up to him and licks her lips, resting her head on her hand to watch him. It takes him a few minutes to recover and he can remember how thoughts work. He looks gorgeous panting and flushed with messy hair. The sweat on his forehead and the vein throbbing in his neck.

“You okay?” She’s smirking. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Baby, you can do that any time you like.” He pants.

She just winks at him. He leans over and kisses her full on the mouth. She chuckles and rolls off the bed.

“I’m gonna a shower.”

“Okay.”

“Can I borrow something to sleep in?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Take whatever you want from the dresser.”

“You okay with me using your shampoo?”

“Pri, after what you just did, you can use anything you want.”

“You’re that easy, Ted?”

“No, you’re just that good.”

She rolls her eyes and wanders off to his bathroom.

Ted struggles to get up. He changes his clothes and decides to make Rebecca’s biscuits. He looks at the clock. It’s already 1am and even as gifted as Priyala is, Ted won’t be able to sleep for a while. He moves about the kitchen on muscle memory. He’s made these biscuits so many times. His mind is not on what he’s baking. It’s flooded with the fact everyone can read that he lied…about his mental health. Everyone will know something that only those close to him know. And without his consent. Because of someone he trusted. This is such a mess. He should be thinking about his amazing girl who is currently in his shower and that mouth of hers. He nearly drops the baking pan when he takes it out of the oven. He’s all over the place.

“Hey.” Priyala’s voice is soft as she walks in.

Her long black hair is wet and pushed to one side. He recognizes his KC BBQ Joe Arthur Gate Stack t-shirt clinging to her chest. On her petite frame, it hits her upper thigh. His eye continues down on their journey to a shapely killer pair of legs. He’s never seen them before. His tired, wired mind thinks back. No, he’s always seen her legs covered. He lets out a low whistle making her giggle.

“Honey, those are the finest pair of legs I’ve ever seen. I’m a little hurt I haven’t met them before.

“Ted, we met in winter.”

"Excuses excuses.” His eyes are glued to her legs. “Turn around for me, darlin’.”

She rolls her eyes, but spins slowly on his kitchen floor. His boxer briefs leave nothing to the imagination as they hug her curves. The image of her bent over his couch flashes in his mind. What would she sound like? He clears his throat trying to get a hold of himself.

“Summer’s coming. I promise I wear a lot of skirts and shorts.”

“Can’t wait.”

“You still baking?”

“Just gotta put them in the box.”

“Good cause your bed looks comfortable and it’s our first kinda planned sleepover.”

“You get in that bed and I’ll be right there.”

Ted finds her in the doorway when he’s done.

“It’s not booby-trapped.”

“I, uh, just didn’t know what side you like.”

He tucks his chin on her shoulder and kisses her neck while his hands roam down her sides. She bites her lip and tips her head up. Seeing her in his clothes sets off something primal inside him. He knows they’re both tired, but part of him really wants to stay up.

“Doesn’t matter to me. I just wanna touch those legs.”

“Leg and ass man.”

His hand cups the ample, soft flesh of her ass. She inhales sharply.

“Jamie said you got back.”

“Did he?”

“Mhmm. He has no idea and he’s never gonna find out.” His touch feels so good. She wants it elsewhere, but it’s so late.

“Ted, don’t wind me up. We gotta sleep.” She wants so badly to grind back into him and struggles to be responsible.

“Sorry, sweetheart. You just look so good. You’re what Roy Orbison sang about.”

“Thank you for calling me pretty, but I mean it, bedtime.” She wiggles away from his hold and gets in bed. He slips in next to her and shuts off the light.

“Thank you, Pri. For being here.” It would be so much worse if he was alone.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” She kisses the end of his nose.

Her small hands run through his hair and his eyes suddenly feel heavy.

The alarm blares suddenly and Ted feels like he didn’t sleep at all. He could’ve sworn he just closed his eyes. It feels like he’s been hit by a freight train. A sinking feeling overtakes him until he sees the sleeping form next to him. He shuts off the alarm, but her stunning dark eyes are already open.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He kisses her palm as it caresses his cheek. “Can we stay here?”

“I wish we could, baby. I really do.” She cards a hand through his hair making him sigh.

“What if I tell the team that you’re in my bed in my clothes? I think they’ll understand.”

Priyala just stares at him and he shakes his head.

“I know. I know.”

She snuggles up to his side. It’s his first morning with her in bed as a couple and he can’t even enjoy it. He pulls her closer and rolls to face her.

“It sucks a lot right now but it’s not always gonna be like this.”

“Feels pretty heavy at the moment. Really called everyone’s bluff taking this job. Maybe I should’ve—“

“Hush, my dear. When you get down on yourself, just remember me going down on you, okay? I don’t do that for just anyone.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

He laughs while his face burns hot. He’s never gonna forget that as long as he lives. Priyala kisses him gently. There’s so much care and softness in her kiss it takes makes Ted’s head spin. She’s really in his corner and he’d forgotten what that felt like. He sets his head on her chest and she plays with his soft hair. She wishes she could make all this disappear. He’s the last person that deserves it. Why couldn’t Rebecca’s shitty ex get the expose treatment? From what she’s heard he’s an absolute piece of shit.

“Remember what Taylor Swift says.”

“Haters gonna hate hate hate hate hate. Shake it off. Shake it off?”

“Yes, but also don’t you worry your pretty little mind people throw rocks at things that shine.” She kisses him on the cheek. “And you shine really bright, Ted Lasso.”

“Speak Now is really an underrated album she wrote all by herself.”

“In Taylor we trust.”

Ted wants to say something that’s filling him up inside, but he stays quiet. He doesn’t want to spook her. Instead, he relaxes in her arms for just a little bit longer. She kisses the top of his head and prays to whoever might be listening that he finds some peace soon.

Priyala leaves soon before 6 am because she wants to avoid any “morning after” pictures even though they didn’t have sex. Ted agrees because it’s the last kind of photo he wants to talk to Michelle and Henry about.

When Ted sees the photographers crowded on his doorstep, he’s glad she isn’t here for it. He doesn’t know she’s swarmed on the street in her neighborhood. She went for a walk and they followed her back to her door.

“Priyala! Miss Kumari! Care to comment on your boyfriend’s mental health?”

“No comment.”

“Did you know about Coach Lasso’s panic attack?”

“No comment.”

“Should he resign and give control to a more stable person?”

“What did you just say?” She turns around.

“I mean because he’s already dealing with so much stress. It might be better—“

“You are not suggesting that Ted can’t coach because of this.”

“Fans on Twitter are concerned after—-“

“Honestly, what year is it?”

“There’s—"

“Here’s my comment: Get fucked. You, Twitter, and anyone who thinks Ted isn’t a good coach because he has anxiety—which tons of people have.” She huffs and puts her key in the lock.

It only takes a half-hour before the video is online.

Stand By Your Man: Priyala Kumari Tells Reporter to Get F****** When Questioning Lasso’s Mental Health

Her phone lights up.

Anu (11:11 am)

You are amazing. Lemme know if you punch any paps.

Rebecca (11:11 am)

Good on you.

Keeley (11:12 am)

You absolute fucking QUEEN!

Ted (11:12 am)

Tickled pink as the Pink Panther to be your man.

Coach ?? Beard (11:17 am)

Got the shovel ready for Nate. Keep me posted.

Priyala has to attend parent-teacher conferences, so she isn’t able to see Ted until the day of the game. Ted offers tickets to Rushil who joins the usual box. Diya sees Nate walk onto the pitch and clenches her fist. Jaya leans over.

“Remember. Mummy said he’s not worth our time.”

It’s a tense game since it’s the last chance for Richmond to get promoted. It’s everything they worked for and the first half does not go well. For a sport she previously did not care about, it’s the most tense Priyala has been in ages. Sam scores a goal and Jamie gets a penalty kick. Jaya grabs her left hand and Diya grabs her right. They all hold their breath as Jamie gives the kick to Dani. Priyala can hear her blood pounding in her ears. Dani makes the goal like the fucking ace he is and the pitch roars. They did it! The girls clutch Priyala’s waist before jumping up and down with Higgins, Keeley, and Rebecca. The team is going wild and so are the coaches…except for Nate. He rushes off and Priyala sees the girls cheering with Rushil. He looks at her.

“I’ll be right back. Please keep an eye on them.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

She rushes down the stairs and to the locker room. She sees Nate walking out to the parking lot and follows him.

“Nate the Great! Congrats on the win, coach.”

“Oh, thanks, Priyala.” He keeps moving.

“You know from how you look you’d think we’d lost.” That stops him in his tracks and causes him to turn around.

“Hm?”

“Ted is such a fan of the high road. But you and me know the road isn’t so smooth when you’re not a white man, right?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Really? Okay. So, Man City game—” Priyala stalks closer to him.

“Match.” He has the gall to correct her even now. So she keeps moving forward.

“Mmm. Right. Match. Ted tells you, Roy, Beard, and Higgins about his panic attacks and anxiety. Just you four. And me. And his therapist.”

“And?”

“Honey, I’m pretty but I’m not dumb.”

“N-Never said you were.”

“Beard is Ted’s closest friend who went halfway around the world to work with him, so he’s out. Higgins stress barfs at the idea of secrets. Roy fucking hates the press. And It’d be illegal for his therapist to spill. That leaves…” She takes a final step. He steps back with a lot of anger in his eyes like a cornered animal. He doesn’t want to admit he’s been caught.

“What about you?”

Priyala chuckles.

“What about me? Let’s see. I’m already semi famous and I hate football. No one ever reaches out to me about that. So, it all comes back to you. Nate the Great, the wonderdick.” Her eyes widen at her take on his nickname. Nate is stunned. She dusts off his shoulders and fixes his hair.

“If you ever get the urge to sell Ted’s personal life to the press again, remember this: I’m a short Indian woman from Boston. Don’t fuck with me, my kids, or my man.”

He stares at her with wide eyes, paralyzed.

“That includes shady paparazzi photos, okay?”

He gulps.

"I don't--"

"No more lies. I know you tipped them off."

She fixes his tie (maybe a little too tight) and struts off back to the locker room. A rousing chorus of “We’re Richmond Till We Die” hits her ears. She laughs and makes her way to Ted in his office.

“Congratulations!” She smiles.

His eyebrows are knitted together and his brown eyes look downcast. Not at all what she was expecting. She slips her arms around his waist. He points to the torn “Believe” sign on his desk. She tilts his chin up making them lock eyes.

“Don’t late Nate steal your joy. You worked too hard for it.”

He lets out a noise that’s not quite a laugh or a scoff. She turns him by the shoulders to face the joyous locker room.

“Look how happy everyone is. Because of your leadership and guidance.You built that.”

His eyes flicker from them back down to her with pure adoration.

“You trying to be my Fonzworth Bentley?”

She looks up at him, blinking.

“Diddy’s hype man when he was Puff?”

“Oh. I wanna be JLo in the sexy dress.”

“Even better. We all know you got the butt for it.”

She nudges his side with her hips and he playfully swats her ass with his hand. She raises her eyebrows. He smiles very pleased with himself. She tugs his collar.

“I can I kiss you now?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He dips down and she lifts up on her tiptoes to press her lips on his. He cradles the back of her head with his hand as their lips meet with more fervor. He knows win or lose he would’ve had her support, but the win makes it a little sweeter. They hear high pitched squeals and break apart.

Diya and Jaya run towards them yelling, “We’re Richmond till we die!”

“It’s my favorite fans!” Ted crouches down and high fives them both.

“Congratulations, Coach!” Diya jumps up and down.

“Daddy had to leave. Rebecca told us to come down here.” Jaya explains and looks at her mother.

“I hope someone walked you down.” Priyala’s annoyed her husband couldn’t watch them on his own for twenty minutes.

“Rebecca did.” Jaya nods.

Ted lifts up Diya and she giggles.

“You did it!”

“We did it.”

She looks down from her spot on his hip and sees the sign.

“Oh, no. Did it fall and get torn?” She frowns.

“Something like that.” Ted nods.

Jaya shares a look with Priyala. She knows it wasn’t an accident. Ted puts Diya back on the ground. To his surprise, Jaya gives him a hug.

“Good job.” She whispers.

“Thank you, Jaya.” He gives her a tight squeeze and lets her go. “Now, ladies, I know we have plans, but I gotta talk to the press and then my boss. Can you wait for me?”

“Yes, Ted.” Priyala smiles.

“Great. Like the Terminator says, ‘I’ll be back’.” Ted waves and walks off.

“What’s a Terminator?” Diya asks.

“A movie you can’t watch yet.” Priyala smirks. She feels a tugging on her sleeve.

“Mummy, I have an idea. Can we go somewhere while Ted works?” Jaya looks up at her.

“Okay. Sure. But we gotta come back, baby, because we’re his ride.” Priyala tells her.

“I know. It won’t be long. I promise.”

Ted talks to the press which isn’t as awful as he thought it would be and then Rebecca. Due to Sam’s appearance, it’s a lot more awkward than he expected. He doesn’t see Priyala’s blue sedan, so he walks out past the parking lot. She pulls up and rolls down the window.

“Get in, winner. We’re going celebrating.”

Ted laughs. He’s really lucky.

#ted lasso #ted lasso x oc #ted lasso x ofc #oc: priyala kumari #mirrorball #fan fic

0 notes