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the-likesofus · 1 year

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Buddie Fic Recs

AKA Talented Mutuals Tuesday

Except I spent so long making this list that the timezones changed over BUT I wanted to show my mutuals some love and now that we are going into the hiatus I thought you might all like a list of quality fics to keep you occupied while there is no new Weewoo show.

I don't know if anyone will actually want to join in on this but if you do the rules are simple:

SHOW YOUR MUTUALS SOME LOVE! Share your favourite fics, (or gifs, edits, literally anything that your very talented mutuals have made), as many or as few as you like but let's share the love around <3

Apologises in advance for the long post btw

@speaknowdiaz I would literally read anything that April writes and would probably sell a limb for the incredible WIPs I know she's still cooking up but here are a couple of my faves:

pining and anticipation (I don't want you like a best friend)

Buck challenges Eddie to try to hit on him after teasing Eddie for not having any ‘game’. This fic is very funny and very soft.

believe in one thing (i won't go away)

This fic hit me straight in the feels. Buck and Eddie go to couples therapy even though they aren't a couple and they work through some stuff.

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@thosetwofirefighters Incredible amazing Nat ily xx

Say It All Out Loud

Eddie comes out to Aunt Pepa after his ‘date’ with Vanessa. I am a little bit biased towards this one because she did write it for me but it's honestly just so good!

How to Cure Boredom: Buckley Edition

The 118 are stuck at the firehouse during a slow shift and Buck entertains them all by mattress-surfing the loft stairs. It’s soft and silly and in the same universe as her other fic Safe in His Arms.

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@loveyourownsmiilee The wonderful amazing Juju not only writes incredible meta and keeps us all fed with Oliver content but Juju also writes wonderful buddie fic.

When Were You Under Me?

Who doesn’t love a Friends AU. This is Buck and Eddie as Ross and Rachel and it is hilarious and so sweet.

You should also check out her Buddie Language Meta if you have not read it before <3

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@elvensorceress Jenwyn’s work always astounds me so be sure to check these out:

Color Him Father, Color Him Love

I will scream from the rafters how much I adore this fic and yes it did make me cry (happy tears). It’s a look into Buck’s head after his sperm donor kid is born and he realizes what Christopher (and Eddie) truly mean to him. I know I have recced this before but it deserves all the love.

Unless You Ask Me To

Eddie dates a man for the first time, and Buck is completely 'Fine'. This is a preemptive rec because it is one chapter away from completion and I have been saving it to binge in one sitting but knowing Jenwyn and her incredible talent I guarantee this will be worth the read.

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@spotsandsocks If anyone’s work is guaranteed to make me sob like a baby (happy, sad, or tears of laughter) it’s Spotty.

Everything But (temptation)

This is Spotty’s newest fic and it's just brilliant. Buck is practicing extreme self-control whilst Eddie is being an irresistible menace.

Could Have, Should Have, Would Have

Buck finally tells Eddie he loves him right before Eddie’s new boyfriend is supposed to meet Christopher. Honestly, all I can say about this fic is that it’s a masterpiece and I screamed many times while reading it.

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@shortsighted-owl Wonderful amazing Owly (Abbi). I appreciate you so and you make my dash so happy xx

Of foam-moustached kisses, and button combinations

For all your sweet domestic buddie needs this is the fic. Eddie is practicing a video game to get better than Chris and Buck makes fun of his ex-technophobe boyfriend.

Also THIS EDIT SET to the lyrics of You’re All That I Have by Snow Patrol make me assdffgghjjklkll

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@lilbuddie Okay, this one is just a brag because Minja doesn’t actually have any fics published yet (side eye) but I wanna make sure she is on everyone’s radar for when she does because yall are not ready for the incredible amazing talent that is this girl’s writing!! So go check out the snippets on her Tumblr and badger her until she finishes something plssssss

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@wheelsupin-five Hi! <3

Almost Almost Almost

This adorable of Buck who is always cold and Eddie warms him up I– asfffghhjkklllll

Under Kitchen Light

SO SOFT! Buck wakes up and Eddie isn't there, Buck finds him in the kitchen.

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@rogerzsteven Simi owns my heart and by that I mean my heart is locked in a cage in Simi’s basement where it is occasionally beaten to a pulp by the most incredibly angsty fics you've ever read.

Cleanse

Buck is extremely nauseous and Eddie takes care of him while I sob over them in a corner.

build me a home underground (free from light and sound)

This fic is so brutal in all the best ways, my heart was in my throat the entire read! Buck gets trapped in a sensory deprivation room while the 118 and Athena race to find him.

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@ashavahishta another incredibly talented mutual of mine

out of ashes

Is it really a Meegs rec list if I don’t rec this fic honestly it's engraved on my soul. This is a criminal minds/greys inspired fic where Buck is kidnapped and tortured until the 118 can find him. This fic is so so well written and means a million things to me I could never explain but pleaseeeee read it!!

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@jobairdxx hello lovely xx

Oh, We Pray to Make it Through the Night

Highly recommend this fic, I do love a near-death experience fic! Buck gets injured on a call and Eddie falls asleep holding vigil at his bedside.

Jules also writes beautiful poetry on Tumblr so go read some of that too <3

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@monsterrae1 MISS RAE! YOU INCREDIBLE THING! <3

love is on its way

I know we’re all a little bit in mourning over the couch theory but it lives on in our hearts and in this fic which has six moments between Buck and Eddie on the Diaz couch (and she’s a wee bit spicy too).

Buck's café (take my heart, just not my order)

Coffee Shop AU. Buck runs the shop where the 118 order all their drinks on shift. I absolutely adore this fic!

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@alyxmastershipper RYAN!! INCREDIBLY TALENTED MUTUAL THAT YOU ARE!!

there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head

If “aasdsdfghhjkl” was a person it was me reading this fic. Eddie comes out to Buck, receives a quirky mug, and gets together with the love of his life. In that order.

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@bekkachaos Wonderful, amazing Bekka xxx

lose yourself in the feeling

I am a sucker for ‘accidental kisses’ and this was just wonderful. Buck is so excited about Maddie and Chim getting engaged that he kisses Eddie when he tells him.

start me up, open my eyes

Okay, the mild sexual content tag is a lie, nothing has ever been closer to smut without actually being smut than this fic, I have never been so wound up reading a fic. Bekka builds the tension so so well.

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@sibylsleaves honestly I'm still a little in shock that we're mutuals now so please excuse me while I fangirl over your incredible writing!

with a bird at your door

Eddie starts spending all his time with Buck. Which would be fine if it weren't for the fact that Buck is in love with him. This fic is the perfect mixture of pining, angst, and a happy ending. And yes I think about this fic frequently I love it okay.

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@mysteriouslyyounggalaxy last but certainly not least (for now). hello lovely xx

(tell the gravedigger) better dig two

Missing scenes from while eddie is trapped in the well followed by the most perfect extended reunion scene. We all know I am a sucker for fics based on the well incident, it’s literally how i started writing for buddie but omg this fic!!!!

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Remember to share the love around and happy hiatus to you all.

Love, Meegs xxxx

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie fic recs #buddie rec list #911 fox #eddie diaz #evan ‘buck’ buckley #christopher diaz #911 buddie #eddie x buck #buck x eddie #911 fic #911 fic recs #meegs says stuff #buddie ao3 #911 ao3 #buddie recs list 4 #talented mutuals tuesday #911 abc

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avocadorablepirate · 1 month

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What Do We Call This? - 01

mini masterlist || next

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing. OP spoilers (especially in this chapter). Probably shouldn't read if you haven't watched/read the Punk Hazard Arc.

A/N: 16 year old me is rolling in her grave, ready to resurrect from the dead, unalive me, and take my place because both she and I cannot believe that we are back here writing fics about a fictional man. We also cannot believe that our writing style has not changed one bit. It's honestly quite disappointing.

Anyway, this chapter kinda sucks (proof read, but for sure there are mistakes somewhere there), and the others probably will too (all I've written after this is my favourite part, the rest is up to fate and my willpower to continue writing). But, if it comes to it we can always just erase all of this, and act like none of this ever happened.

Why is it called 'What Do We Call This?" you ask? Because I honestly don't know what the fuck to call this.

—⁠☆✿☆—⁠

She found herself being welcomed onto the pirate ship, despite the fact that just a few days ago she was after their lives. It was truly a strange turn of events that had unfurled in the blink of an eye.

"If that's where you want to go then we'll take you! If I'm going to be Pirate King I'll have to visit every island anyway!" The captain had said without a second thought when she had asked them whether she could tag along for a short while.

To put it briefly she had met the crew at Fishman Island, initially with the intent to get rid of them. However, after certain explanations about memories that she did not want to dive into for the 2nd time that week, and some forgiveness on the part of the pirates, she was now onboard the Thousand Sunny, on her way to the new world, fulfilling her initial goals.

——————————————————————————

The Straw Hats ship had docked at Punk Hazard on getting a call from someone on their Den Den Mushi. Luffy having picked it up without any hesitation had decided that he was going to help whoever it was.

A lot had happened since then. You had been captured along with Nami, Sanji, Chopper and Franky, and had found yourselves in a metal chamber along with the head of a samurai who was somehow still alive, despite lacking an entire lower body. Franky and Sanji had managed to break open the cell, allowing for your escape, but as all of you looked for a way out you ran into some children in what looked like a nursery. You had then escaped with the children, who had begged you to take them with you, but on exiting from the front you ran into a pirate named Trafalgar Law and the Marines. The group's interaction with the two was short, quickly choosing to find another exit.

Law, you thought to yourself as you kept running. You had heard the name before but couldn't quite remember when. You were however pulled out of your thoughts when from the corner of your eye you saw a thin blue orb surround the four Straw Hat pirates. You watched in shock as the hearts of the pirates were switched.

What had just happened?

You took a quick glance at the people behind you, had this been the work of the Marines or the pirate Trafalgar Law?

What you found was the pirate, frozen in place, staring at you as if he had seen a ghost. He had been caught off guard perhaps, not realising that there was someone else with the Straw Hats. But, he was quick to snap out of it, turning away and focusing his attention on the Marines at hand. You too turned back around, a small smile on your face despite the situation. You remembered now, where you had heard the name. What were the chances that you would finally meet him after all these years, you thought to yourself as you lightly touched the strap of your hood.

——————————————————————————

Everyone was now hiding out in a cave behind the research facility you had been trapped in, the situation having completely changed.

You had reunited with the rest of the Straw Hats and Trafalgar Law had also joined the group with the intention of forming an alliance with the Straw Hats. You couldn't help but laugh to yourself when Luffy had readily accepted, thinking back to when he had gladly welcomed you onto his ship, despite the few protests from the rest of the crew.

Your laughing caught the attention of the captain of the Heart Pirates, and you were quick to regain your composure, giving him a quick smile as he eyed you. His attention then turned back to Luffy, but his hand pointed at you, "Who's that?"

Luffy looked from Law to you and back, his smile stretching from ear to ear, "Oh! This is (Y/N). She was trying to kill us," he says, his smile not letting up while Usopp and Nami yell at him for the introduction while you, Robin and Franky laugh, Chopper too stunned to speak. Usopp then explains to him that you've temporarily joined them, not going into further details.

Trafalgar Law was obviously not expecting that for a response, almost in complete shock that someone could be dumb enough to welcome an assassin onto their ship. However, he didn't address it, there were other things that needed to be dealt with, he would just have to be wary of you.

You, Nami and Usopp had volunteered to stay back and watch over the children. However, Caesar Clown himself had come to attack you. Unable to land an attack on him the three of you were knocked out and he took the children back with him leaving the three of you and Brownbeard behind. Luckily, the four of you had managed to escape and were now back inside the research facility with everyone else.

It was a strange group of people; pirates, Marines, a few of Caesar's subordinates, and whatever you were. However, given the situation everyone had decided to work together to escape the gas, defeat Caesar Clown and save the children, but you sensed that Trafalgar Law had other intentions as well.

Initially with the task of helping find the children, you stuck with Nami, but watched intently as Law went off on his own. You quickly made the decision to follow him. Unsure of whether he had any ulterior motives to form an alliance with the Straw Hats, you felt it would be a safe bet if you kept an eye on him, in turn protecting the Straw Hats who you were indebted to - incase he tried anything.

"Nami, I'm going to follow Trafalgar Law. Maybe I can find something that can help the children," you say, and quickly follow behind the other pirate, not giving Nami the chance to protest to your decision.

You kept a safe distance from Law, you couldn't let him see you. Following him through various corridors he finally stops at a room filled with huge tanks, the words 'S.A.D' painted on each of them in big bold letters. What is this place?

"Room."

"Shambles."

Law's voice draws your attention away from the tanks, and you notice the same blue orb from earlier surround him. You're taken by surprise when you see a translucent cube with what looks to be a heart inside it appear in the palm of his hand. Then suddenly Law's flung back and in front of him stands a tall man in a white coat and shades, the cube now in his hands.

"Ver-go," Law tries to say as he stands up but the man squeezes the cube causing Law to fall back down and yell in pain.

Your eyes now focus on the heart, is that Law's? How did this Vergo guy get his heart?

This time Law tries to hit Vergo with an attack. He's able to hit him but it doesn't seem to do much. Vergo once again squeezes at Law's heart, harder this time, and you watch as Law falls on his back, unable to get up.

Shit what do I do? You scan your surroundings trying to find some way to help Law. You're not one for close combat, or combat at all for that matter, so running in and attacking is not an option. Just then you see the Marine from earlier, and you let out a sigh of relief, you could hold off on intervening for now.

Things however seemed to be taking a turn for the worse. Vergo had the upper hand, Smoker almost completely knocked out, yet you had a sliver of hope when you noticed Law dragging himself across the floor to reach for his heart. But, just as he was about to reach for it Vergo picked it up. You looked back to see Smoker lying still on the floor. Then you heard Law scream. A gasp fell from your lips, but you were quick to duck behind a wall before anyone could see you. Your body was shaking, Law's screaming was bringing back the memories.

Prison cell.

Dragged out.

Handcuffs.

Words.

Screaming.

More screaming.

Silence.

Handcuffs.

You try and take deep breaths to calm yourself. There's no point in remembering those things. You're free from it now, you try and tell yourself, You need to do something, if you don't, no one gets out.

Three deep breaths. You swore to yourself that you would never do this again, but maybe that wasn't the best idea when you had decided to associate yourself with pirates.

You outstretch your arm, and focus your attention on Vergo while still trying to hide yourself. From the corner of your eye you can see Smoker slowly starting to get up. You have to time this right.

"Grip."

"Twist."

You close your hands into a tight fist, and twist your wrist to the right.

Vergo suddenly screams, an excruciating pain surging through his right arm, and he drops Law's heart, just as Smoker hits Vergo from behind.

You unclench your fist and bite down on your hat that you had already placed between your teeth, trying your best not to let out a gut-wrenching scream of your own as you slide down against the wall to hide yourself.

The problem with these powers? You feel the same pain you inflict onto others, only it's far worse than what they feel.

——————————————————————————

Law's surprised by the way Vergo is suddenly gripping at his arm, but he immediately looks to his right, he heard that gasp from earlier. He knows you've been following him, watching him, but until now he wasn't sure why. You're gripping at your right arm as well, from your expression he can tell you're in pain, did you do that? He doesn't know what to make of it. However, he takes this as his chance to get his heart back, and just in time - Vergo's attention is back on him.

——————————————————————————

Trafalgar Law, you say to yourself, eyeing the man whose sitting by himself away from the rest of the group. He's different from what you had heard about him. Given, what you had heard about him was from a long time ago.

After the pain had subsided you had decided to get away just as Law laid his final attack on Vergo. You didn't want him questioning why you had followed him, and you definitely wouldn't have been able to explain why your right arm was limp. Instead, you headed back to the Straw Hats and acted as if you never saw or heard what happened.

"(Y/N)-chan?"

"Hmm?" You turn your attention to Sanji who's holding out a bowl of food.

"Could you give this to Tra?" he asks, and you nod your head as you take the bowl from him.

Law's staring at Luffy and the rest of the Straw Hats, annoyance etched on his face. When he sees you his eyes do a quick scan from head to toe, but you notice how they linger on your right arm, which you quickly hide behind your back, shoving the bowl towards him.

"Here, Sanji wanted me to give this to you," you say, and he takes the bowl from you, nodding in thanks. You stand beside him for some time, waiting for him to say something, anything, but not a word comes out.

"Well, if you need more let me know," you say, quickly scurrying back to the cook who's all too happy with your company.

——————————————————————————

A/N: Now you're probably wondering after reading this, why the fuck are you writing? It's very simple actually - because what's the point in living if you don't keep adding to the list of things you're embarrassed about <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠> ..... anyway see you next time....unless I choose to dip after this.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #law x y/n #law fanfic #screaming crying cannot believe im doing this

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randomyuu · 8 months

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the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

My guy Vox once again graced us with lovely Goyuu fanfics, and the way it follows you home, the stories i never told, made me go FERAL.

Time travel? Two Gojou Satorus? Double affection for our sunshine Yuuji? Yuuji sandwich? What feels like possible continuation of (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become???

FUCK.

I need to stop indulging my imagination too much. I should’ve been content with writing long-ass comments but noooooo, my brain goes “you gotta draw it”. DAMMIT VOX, YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITINGS HHHHHH

So… usually I should’ve picked a favourite scene that is within my drawing capability, but I just… love all three chapters??? So I made a questionable time investment? I can’t stop??? Help???

This is probably the most ambitious fanart project I’ve ever done so far. Fair enough, considering I might combust if I keep these welled-up emotions inside from reading Vox’s Goyuu fics. Fuck.

Fic info:

Title: the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

Author: @voxofthevoid

Pairing: YuuGoGo. Future!Yuuji, Future!Gojou, Teen!Gojou

(idk why I laugh writing YuuGoGo. I’m beyond help)

Currently, it is 3 chapters out of 8. And it’s gonna be NSFW chapter 4 onwards, so don’t forget to read the tags first, folks!

The drawings are under Read More, because I have lots of thoughts surrounding each chapter and drawings. It’ll be hella long if I didn’t hide it here. It was a mess down there. A combination of hours before, during, and after I read said fic. I’d say good luck finding the art among the sea of jumbled words but… you’ll find them easily. Don’t worry about it haha

SPOILERS FOR ALL 3 CHAPTERS! I highly recommend reading those first before diving into these drawings!

Also for the comics, read from right to left please!

From here on, I will be referring to the Future!Gojou as Gojou and the teenage one as Satoru.

Overall, drawing all these is fun! Really fun! This project pushed me quite hard, forcing me to test my limit (because I rarely draw this much back to back). Since this is a combination of drawings and comics, the coloring style will not be consistent. In a way, I want to try some brushes I never get to use, as well as try out my new graphic tablet. Drawing these got me giggling because I was finally able to let loose during line art. It's much easier to do so, and sometimes I just get to reread the fic and giggle to myself for the nth time.

CHAPTER 1:

Whooo. Whooooooooo—

Ok, ok, the premise is just that good. It intrigued me, fascinated me, and I just… oomph. I cannot refuse a Time Travel Yuuji Sandwich. Sign me up.

Honestly, there are two scenes that are just… a bit too clear in my mind when reading this chapter. That would be the one I drew above, and the other is when Yaga called Gojou to come outside of the class. I love, loooove how Vox wrote Satoru’s POV. And when Yuuji fucking giggles?

I lost it.

Can you imagine, drawing Yuuji grins, with shiny stuff, maybe some sunlight, just purely happy and indulging Gojou?

Help me, for I am drowning in my love and adoration for Yuuji.

Page 2 is an experiment on using harsh black as shading (kind of?). I really enjoyed colouring Yuuji, and drawing those buffalo skulls! I wish I can grasp the concept of contrast a bit better tho :v

CHAPTER 2:

This is probably the only chapter where I picture still images instead of comic panels. A bit like those cool chapter covers in mangas. The one I really, really want to draw is the scene with Satoru on the table. Can’t pass the opportunity to highlight Satoru being a brat, albeit a really cool brat.

Cool idea drawing always proves to be a challenge, because of course my artistic skill just so happens to be below the requirement. Thank you, Sketchfab, for the chair and desk’s perspective otherwise I’m screwed lmao

The second scene that I want to draw the most is this:

Gojou is one step away from climbing Yuuji. Also, I have a bit of a problem picturing a man pouting that makes him look crazy instead, so please have Gojou pouting adorably instead. Because, as Yuuji said (with love), Gojou is (also) a brat.

This is possibly my favorite art in this project, after Yuuji's in Chapter 1 page 2. It's clean because I don't have to draw background, and I was having a fun time drawing Yuuji. And Gojou's squishy cheek as well.

Oh, actually, there is a “manga” scene in this chapter. It’s when Yuuji said, “I love Satoru.”

I just—

AAAAAHHHHH YUUJIIIIIII YOU AND VOX ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. That secure relationship between Yuuji and Gojou? Satoru’s description of how Yuuji’s smile could blot out the sun??? Not me screaming 💀 I also see bits of hints of possible co-dependency, though I could be reading those wrong, but either way I’m good. Secure and possessive relationships are fun to consume hhhhhh

But yeah. There are too many wholesome Yuuji smiles in this fic, and I… I am not confident enough to draw genuine happiness. It’s too much for me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

For this chapter, another reason why I chose these two scenes is just because I want to try and draw cover-worthy pictures of Yuuji and Satoru, and Yuuji and Gojou (cough)

CHAPTER 3:

We start the chapter with Nanamin. Ah, Nanamin. I forgot what his teen self looked like and was surprised to see his design again lmao

I want to draw Yuuji and Nanami scene because… I just want to, I guess. I have never drawn him before (Yaga as well) so that's an interesting challenge. I got two ideas on how I want to draw it. One is a bit painting-esque, and the other one is like another chapter cover. In the end, I chose the cover one because I want to emphasise the difference between teen!Nanami and the Nanami from Yuuji’s original timeline, and how the watch feels like a connection between the same (yet not) person. It’s a bittersweet feeling? In a way?

I’m not really good at explaining my intention ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I love Yuuji’s answer to Nanami's question.

AND FINALLY.

A Yuuji SandwichTM scene.

And oh B O I do I love it. Have I told you I like every chapter? I probably have. But this one? Satoru’s curiosity, Yuuji’s on-brand self-deprecation, and Gojou come strolling down to show more of Yuuji to his mini-self. I want to draw this whole scene, from Gojou finding them, feeding Yuuji snacks, bitch-slapping Satoru into the backroom, to Yuuji growling. Them trying to hide a boner from Yuuji’s growl got me cackling so hard I LOVE IT 😭

I love it all. Please love Yuuji in my stead, Satoru and Satonyan :3

Oh! Also! 40-finger Yuuji sounds really, really cool! I’ll be happy with whatever Vox will give us in future chapters, but 40-finger Yuuji… possible scene with this timeline’s Sukuna… my god. The action! The drama! The bloodshed! One can only hope.

However, as much as I love that whole scene, it’s still too much for me :”) I’m still not yet confident in delivering the humour and action. Also my already-long drawing plan had my brain groaning in protest so I can’t push my luck :'D

When Gojou said "He looks sweet, but he's a bit of a beast", I kept picturing Yuuji staring innocently, but there was an edge to his look. As if the moment Satoru looks away, he will pounce. But in the end I just stick with innocent-looking Yuuji because I accidentally drew his eyes that way and I want to keep it in lol

Since Satoru points out how soft and cuddly Yuuji is, I also want to draw soft Yuuji :v

And the last one… is the last scene. For some reason, I read that both Gojou and Satoru share Yuuji’s lap and was having a frustrating yet fun time figuring out how it’s… physically possible, without having their butts on the ground because they both are not small at all. As I lined the art, I reread it again and… perhaps I read it wrong? Satoru is beside Yuuji, and not on his lap? So yeah, this one might be the least accurate, but hey, at least you can view it as a crack drawing or something :v

AAAANNNDDD I HAVE EXCEEDED TODAY’S BRAIN CAPACITY OF FORMING WORDS

Have I told you I love this fic?

…I probably have.

Have an amazing week (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

#yuu's art #jjk-fic-fanart #jjk ship #jjk-ship #五悠 #goyuu #goyu #5u #gojou x yuuji #speedrun this bad boy of a project in 3 days #from planning #now I can sleep in peace

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sc0tters · 9 months

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Better Off Apart | Luke Hughes

summary: the long awaited day has finally come! Luke is in New York and the Devils are set to play the islanders, but now a third person as slotted themselves into your love equation.

request: yes/no

warnings: this became a bit of a sad chapter, Luke is a boy who doesn’t know how to process his emotions, Mat gets jealous and also doesn’t know how to handle that. The reader is finally in a position where she’s reader to move on.

word count: 1.76k

authors note: I wrote this in an hour I was so excited. I saw that in some requests you guys actually wanted the mc of this to get with a player from the team but I sort of put my twist on that. The rest of the full length chapters for this story have been planned out but I think it could be cool doing a few blurbs for these two, so if you want to see anything in those let me know!

previous part | next part

It had been circled in red pen.

The date on your calendar had been marked the moment you got the NHL calendar announcement.

It was the date that you had been counting the sleeps down to like a child counting down the sleeps till Christmas.

It was the date that you felt so excited for but were also so nervous for that you wanted to go to the top of the Empire State Building and scream.

It's the date that the Devils were coming to town to play the Islanders.

It's the date that you were going to finally see Luke again.

You knew that you shouldn't have been excited, shouldn't have let your grow full and your palms grow sweaty at the thought of seeing him again.

All of your efforts to forget about him were now nonexistent as you spent moments every day staring at his social media's.

After a drunk night out with friends you unblocked and unrestricted everything that had to do with him, when you woke up much more sober you simply couldn't find it in your heart to or in your head to shut him out anyone.

A few nights ago whilst being sat in front of the tv with a meal from your favourite restaurant, you did something you never thought you would.

You wrote Luke a letter.

Just like you had for each of his teammates.

So you sat and you wrote, making sure to mention everything from how you felt to why you left. Writing that letter was better than any type of therapist as it had brought up things that you had seemed to compartmentalise. There were seven different editions of this letter.

The first two had to be rewritten because you zoned out and came back to see that your tears had soaked the pages.

The next three had you swearing like a sailor as you told him to fuck himself for making you fall so deeply in love with him.

The sixth letter just didn't feel right. You assumed that it was the lack of sleep that was getting to you, so like any mature adult you got up and went to bed deciding that the letter writing efforts would continue the next day.

The seventh and final letter was perfect, you were honestly tempted to email it to your high school English teacher you were that proud of it. It was the perfect way to tell Luke that you were okay that this was goodbye and that you didn't hold anything against him for how he treated you.

Yes you told him that he had hurt you but it helped teach you that some loves just simply weren't worth it.

It was like you had been put through the grieving cycle over the last fifteen hours as you learnt to accept that Luke just wasn't on your cards and that it was probably for the best.

Mat hadn't slipped up from his role of your new best friend, if there wasn't a game on Thursday you two would go get dinner and then sit at his apartment playing card games until the early hours of the morning.

The Canadian had quickly learnt why you were so popular in New Jersey amongst the players and it was one of the things that he was actually so attracted to.

Yes Mat found himself growing more enamoured with you by the day and despite his best efforts you never seemed to notice it.

You never noticed how his eyes lingered on you far longer than appropriate for just friends, or how he'd glare down every man and woman who dared to even look at you when the two of you were out in the town. You never noticed the way you squeezed the life out of his heart the moment you came to Mat's apartment in tears one night as you missed Luke.

The Canadian was hurt, it wasn't even the fact that you weren't interested in him that haunted his thoughts at night. It was the fact that you gave your love to someone who was so cruel to you.

But Mat put on a comforting smile each time he was forced to listen to you spill your heart out on his sleeve as you couldn't get over your failed attempts to get over the Hughes boy.

At one point the Islander player was ready to rip the bandaid off and tell you everything.

He wanted you to know that you were loved.

He wanted you to know that you were wanted and it was by a man who was sat right next to you.

But deep down inside Mat knew that those words would mean nothing to you unless they came from the Hughes boy.

That was the thing about love that was so cruel. Here were two people that wanted nothing more than to be happy. But the reciprocation of those emotions from the people they craved them from the most weren't there.

Yes you loved Mat but you weren't in love with Mat and that different meant everything to him.

So he kept his feelings to himself as he watched you count down the days until the Devils came to town.

He sat there dreading the moment he had to face Luke on the ice, Mat had been watching the meditation videos that you had sent him on repeat as he tried to memorise the various methods of calming himself down that he’d had to use in other to not hit Luke.

It wasn’t because Mat wanted to protect the boy, in fact he wanted to do the opposite. He wanted to hurt Luke for all that he had done to you. The Islanders player wanted to see the Hughes boy finally feel some sort of remorse, but he knew that if he laid a finger on Luke you’d get upset. So he was going to have to try to behave.

You woke up practically running out of bed ready to take on the world when the day finally arrived. Part of you was excited to see your friends from the team too and that’s what you told yourself made you so happy.

Luke swore he was going to throw up when he got on the team bus. Sure he was excited to see you in the flesh once more. But after seeing how the every gossip account swore that you and Mat were dating after someone spotted you on another on of your excursions, hope for him was running out. So he spent the last week forcing himself to accept that fact that this was all his fault. Yes he wanted to blame Mat instead but he knew he couldn’t.

If Luke couldn’t be the one to love you then he then simply hoped that the man who loved you, loved you even half as much as he did.

The young Hughes boy felt trapped inside of his mind as he had yet to reveal how he felt about you to anyone. It was partially due to the fact that he knew they’d all laugh at him especially after how he treated you. Yet there was another much larger part of Luke that didn’t want to admit it because one he admitted that he did indeed like you, it meant that it would really be real. At least for now he could act like you were all just simply a figment his dreams and hopes for in the future. He told himself that all he needed as a simply protein shake and his usual pregame playlist blasting through his headphones at a volume that was enough to make his mother cringe as she reminded her son that she didn’t want him going deaf.

Jack noticed the way that his younger brother had gone quiet since he stepped on the bus, the whole team did. As bad as they all knew it sounded none of them bothered checking in on the boy as they all just put it down to him not wanting to see you again.

If only they knew, right?

The youngest Hughes boy knew your routine on game days from your time with the Devils. It was something that he made an effort to learn early on in his attempts to avoid you.

He hoped that you had the same routes mapped out here because Luke knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he caught sight of you.

Now more than ever though it was because he knew he’d start crying on the spot.

Luke wasn’t a crier naturally but he had no clue how he was going to say his apology to you. All of the emotions that you made him feel just made him want to cry due to the sheer panic that was going through his mind.

As the team walked out of the away locker room he heard it.

The sound he had grown to miss.

The sound that brought him this warm sense of comfort in his stomach that he could only describe as funny.

It was the sound of your laugh.

Mat had been telling you a story as you two made your way over to the home dressing room as you had forgotten your folder in there when you took some guests around earlier.

As Luke saw the sight of you it was enough to knock him off of his feet as Jack walked into the back of him “dude,” the middle Hughes boy groaned as he lifted his brother off of the ground totally unaware of the fact that you were stood there.

It was like time stopped for the youngest Hughes boy.

He watched as your eyes locked with his and your lips formed a smile as you sent him a nod.

Mat had seen how you had stopped listening to his story were just simply looking in front of you.

It made the Canadian angry as in that moment he wanted to throw out all of those stupid meditation lessons.

He knew his next move was childish but he didn’t care he sent Luke a harsh glare as Mat threw his arm around your shoulders.

That moment dropped Luke back into reality as he felt like he had just hit a cement wall.

“Luke c’mon!”

There was a game to be played but it seemed that it was quickly coming off of the ice as well.

And you were right in the center of it,

But you didn’t even know it.

#luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey oneshot #imagines #oneshots #better off series

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benedictscanvas · 10 months

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be still, my foolish heart [5] - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k

series warnings: lots of language throughout, some allusions to smut but nothing explicit, a LOT of fucking fluff mostly ngl

a/n: finally! sorry it's a couple days late, but the busy week is over and we are back at it. i really enjoyed writing this one. did a poll to find out how people feel about reader pov, so there may be a few reader pov bits coming your way soon, just so we can see whether she's smitten too... <3

series summary: when jamie gets called up to the england team for the first time, he’s terrified. enter you, all smiles and swearing, and suddenly his only fear is falling head over boots for you.

previous chapter | series masterlist

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chapter five - if you got love to get done

The crowd is roaring as he walks out of the tunnel, squinting a little in the sudden wash of sunlight that hits him. The music is loud and he feels himself rising taller, pushing his shoulders back, chest forward as he realises the moment he’s having. It doesn’t matter one bit that he’s got a bib on, that he’s taking a sharp right turn and heading straight for the bench.

He’ll be subbed on at 60, he’s sure. Confident, even. The last few days in training, he’d played some of the best football he could remember playing. His phone was filled with encouraging messages that morning, from the team, from the coaches, from practically everyone that knew him. The only one he’d replied to so far was his mum, but he was looking forward to going through them properly later.

Earlier, he’d found himself disappointed not to see you at breakfast, but now here you were as he headed towards his seat on the bench, just one row behind him with a camera in your hand. You grin when you see him, and hold up your camera questioningly. He plays along as he stares off into the distance pensively, pouting and sharpening his jawline. You giggle as you take a few snaps and he's eager to sit down in front of you.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Jamie said, swivelling in his seat to chat to you despite the funny look from Gondo beside him, “I mean, not at the match but, y’ know…”

“Sat on the bench?” you asked and he nodded, “Yeah, I had to fight to be here, honestly. But there’s nowhere else I can get the right angles for the socials. At least, that’s what I told them.”

He grinned right back, turning even further in his seat so the two of you were face to face, but then the first notes of the national anthem started playing and you whacked his shoulder frantically as the two of you tried to stand up quickly. Even during the anthem, he risked a glance back at you and you glared at him until he turned back around, but he couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he sang.

“You’ll get me fucking fired!” you hiss from behind your hand when the two of you are able to sit back down again, “They’ve already asked me why you’ve been in so much of the content recently.”

“What did y’ say?”

“That you’re the only idiot who says yes to all my stupid ideas.”

His shoulders slump at that description, but he’s quick to bounce back when you start laughing at him. You rest a hand on your shoulder as you lean in, still keeping a hand over your mouth to stop any pesky press doing any lip reading.

“I couldn’t tell them you’re just my favourite, could I?” and he could swear his heart stops, because that almost sounds like flirting. He stares up at you, wide-eyed and helpless until you continue, “Not supposed to tell anyone I’m Richmond, remember?”

Right. Richmond. That was why he was your favourite, because he’s the only Richmond player who’s fucking here. What if Roy was here? Or Isaac, or Colin, or Bumbercatch? It suddenly occurred to him that even if he was your favourite here, you might have a very long list of Richmond players you liked more than him. The thought settles and he can feel his uneasiness in his stomach.

He doesn’t respond before he turns back around to watch kick off, just smiles at you instead and hopes that his lack of reply isn’t too rude. Your hand lets go of his shoulder after a moment or two, and he’s absolutely kicking himself but then the match starts and he can’t think about it anymore.

It’s an easy opener, even if Gareth insisted that they couldn’t become complacent. England were 2-0 up within around 10 minutes with a tap-in and a penalty from King, and from there seemed content to coast to half time with the majority of the possession. Jamie cheered for both goals wildly on the sidelines with the rest of his teammates and then jogged down into the tunnel quickly when the halftime whistle blew.

The team talk was nothing he hadn’t heard before. Gareth was hardly going to change tactics now, so once he’d got past the main parts, he turned his mind to you, just for a few minutes. He probably wasn’t your favourite player at Richmond. And it shouldn’t matter to him, he knows that, but it does. The pit in his stomach that the thought has caused just won’t go away.

He could ask you, but that would be ridiculous. Would make him seem ridiculous. This was definitely getting out of hand, because he had been so sure he could just be friends with you and be happy about it but- you were just so great. The two of you had spent the last four days in Italy practically joined at the hip. Filming and laughing and crying-while-laughing.

All the while he’d been promising himself not to think about you in any way that wasn’t friendly. All the while he’d been lying to himself. You smile at him, and he feels like he’s spinning around on a fucking hill like in that movie Roy had made him watch about a month ago.

The team is all clapping, so he snaps himself out of it and claps too as everyone files out of the room. He’s so frustrated with himself for thinking about this now - it isn’t the time. So he decides - after the match, he can think about it as much as he likes. Come up with a proper plan to rid himself of this once and for all, so you can get on as well as you do without him worrying about silly things like being your favourite Richmond player.

When he arrives back to his seat on the bench and flops down into it, he feels a delicate tap on his shoulder and turns to see you, still smiling that infuriating smile.

“Hey, you’re very tense,” you say teasingly with a light poke to his shoulder, “Whole first half without talking isn’t very Jamie Tartt of you. Something I said?”

He likes to think he can read you pretty well sometimes, and he’s positive he can see your smile falter as you ask. So he did come off rude when he turned around and stopped talking to you. Again, he’s kicking himself.

“No! No, love, ‘course not,” he tries to reassure you, “I’m just nervous, honestly. Y’ mentioned Richmond and I know that I’m…y’ know. I’m good there. Jus’ wonderin’ if I’ll be any good here.”

He wasn’t wondering. He’s been great in training and he’s fishing for compliments, he knows it. The thought makes him feel like a prick again.

“Come on. You’re joking, right?”

He doesn’t expect that particular response, especially not the thinly veiled amusement on your face.

“Uh- no? Don’t think so.”

“I’ve watched you in training. You’re feeling it, I know it. I know you a bit by now. So why are you lying?”

It was the most straightforward you’d ever been and he had no idea what to do with it. But Gareth was calling his name, and Gondo elbowed him in the ribs hard.

“You’re up, bro. Go and warm up!”

Jamie was quick to react, glancing back at you a few times but soon getting his head in the game. He pushes your conversation, your words, right to the back of his mind as he sidesteps along the side of the pitch, then moves through the exercises he usually did on autopilot.

He hadn’t even noticed it was 60 minutes through the game. At least he’d been right about one thing - he was getting subbed on.

He ran to grab his shirt as one of the assistant coaches told the fourth official that England would be making a change. You were nearby again and you grinned at him when he was close enough.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said loudly, and he knew what you were talking about, “Just go and fucking smash it, Jamie!”

He nods. Yeah, he’s gonna fucking smash it.

He tears off his bib and stands ready on the touch line, proud to be wearing Sam’s number on his back. He knows that Sam should be here in Italy playing for his country as he deserved, and it was only a small tribute, but he hoped it would make some kind of statement. King runs over to him, slaps his hands against Jamie’s and that’s it - he’s running onto the pitch with a new spring in his step.

He’s an England player. He’s done it. Lifelong dream achieved.

Around ten minutes into his debut, he sees Rife making a delicious run down the right side and he hooks his foot around the ball to send a pass forward, soaring over the heads of the defenders and landing right on Rife’s foot. He holds his breath as Rife shoots, but the net bulges soon after and now he’s got an assist too.

It’s overwhelming.

Still, Rife is running over to jump on him and he lets him, then Wire, then practically the whole team. At the bottom of the pile, Jamie spares a thought for the Jamie of a few years ago, the Jamie for whom goals were everything and assists meant nothing. How sad it would have been to miss out on this feeling of helping his team, his country, towards an emphatic win.

And it was a fucking excellent assist, too.

The last ten minutes are uneventful. Jamie knows he’s playing well and remembers your words - you’re feeling it. You’ve summed it up perfectly. His feel of the ball, his feel for his teammates and their positions, its all coming together. At the final whistle, he lets out a roar, full of all the anxious anticipation that went into this moment then takes the nearest player to him in a huge bear hug.

The coaches and rest of the team walk out onto the pitch, shaking hands and clapping each other on the back. Jamie makes a point to shake as many opposition players’ hands as he can before he moves on to celebrating with his teammates. Almost as soon as he’s ready to jog over to Rife to pick him up, however, he spots you, filming Rife on your phone.

Maybe he isn’t your favourite Richmond player. But you said he was your favourite around here and he’s going to take that and run with it.

“Y/N! Hey!”

You look round as soon as he calls and put your phone away instantly. He’s not sure you’ve even finished with Rife. Either way, you’re sprinting up to him and you’ve got him locked in the tightest of hugs before he knows it. Despite how unexpected it is, it doesn’t take him long to wind his arms around you in return because it’s the easiest thing in the world.

You pull back, positively beaming.

“That assist, Jamie! I fucking knew you were feeling it, that was insane!”

“It were pretty good, weren’t it?” he says proudly, pulling you back into his arms for one hug while he still can, grateful when you let him. He leans back this time, watching you with a quirked eyebrow, “You know me quite well, huh?”

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you looked flustered.

“Didn’t know you were going to do that, though, did I? Magic, that was,” you’re still heaping praise on him, and there’s a part of him that wants to tell you to go on, but he doesn’t want to push it. He also doesn’t want any awkwardness between the two of you, but right now he thinks he could do anything, so he takes a chance.

“Earlier, you said I was your favourite because I’m Richmond and it jus’ felt shit,” he admits, all in a rush, “That’s not your fault, I know. I never thought about you likin’ Richmond in general before. Instead of-“

Instead of just me. Instead of just liking me, for who I am and not what team I play for. Tell me I’m your favourite Richmond player and I’ll stop being a fucking prick.

He keeps most of what he’s thinking to himself, because he feels like he’s probably already said too much. In his sessions with Doctor Sharon so far, she’s been so encouraging of his newfound honesty, both with others and with himself. She’d want him to ‘communicate his feelings’ with you, and he wasn’t sure if this was the best way of doing that, but it had happened now. He’d already said it.

You still had your hands on his arms, having pulled them back from their tight squeeze around his neck and shoulders. You were looking at him thoughtfully, and he was struck by how stupid he was when he thought he could read you earlier - you were impossible to read sometimes.

After what feels like years, you press your lips together like you’re suppressing a grin and squeeze his biceps.

“Jamie…” you begin, voice as soft as it’s ever been, despite the still deafening roar of the crowd. He’d practically forgotten he’s still stood on a football pitch, “Come on. You’re joking, right?”

Same words as earlier. His heart sinks.

“I swear, Y/N, I’m not lying this time, that’s actually why I got all mardy-”

“You have to be joking,” you repeat, interrupting him slowly, “Because you must know you’re my favourite player everywhere.”

He isn’t sure whether to sigh in pure relief or start panting for breath. You’re looking at him so softly, there’s almost shyness there. He’s never seen you shy, ever. Certainly not around anyone else.

“You’ve admitted something, so I will too. Just to be fair,” you smile easily, still holding him by the arms. He wonders if he could put his hands back on your waist, but he can’t move a muscle in case you move away from him, “I’ve never been nervous around football players. I work with them everyday, you know? And then you walk up to training that first day, and you don’t hear me when I ask my question, and I felt nervous. Stupid nervous.”

“…because you’re a Richmond fan?”

“No, Jamie,” you say, but you don’t say why you were nervous, you just fucking stare at him. His heart is begging him to lean in and kiss you silly, “Maybe it was the hair.”

You reach up to gently tug on one of the strands that falls in front of his face from his headband. He’s struggling to find his voice.

“I-” he has to cough to get his words back, “I do have good hair.”

“Great hair, even,” you smirk, and he can see you biting your lip, “The rest of you isn’t too bad either, I guess. If you’re into that kinda thing.”

Oh. Oh.

You’re flirting with him.

This is new. He’s oblivious and his processing time might be longer than others, but you’ve never blatantly flirted with him before. He’d know, because he’s been desperate for you to flirt with him for a few weeks now. Basically since he met you. Whether it’s playful or not, it’s a new development that has him floating.

This, he can do. Flirting. He’s good at this.

“And what kinda thing would that be?” he says, tilting his head and smirking right back at you. All his terror at your previous sincerity falls away and is replaced by a need to match you quip for quip. He can think about the fact that he’s your favourite player everywhere when he sits in his hotel room grinning in the mirror later.

“You know,” you rock back and forth on your heels, “The whole fit footballer thing. Abs and shit. It’s a very particular type.”

So you had looked at him at the pool party. It shouldn’t have made him so giddy. You just called him fit. He could melt into a puddle at your feet if he wasn’t so determined to make you giddy in return.

“And is it your type?”

You make a show of thinking about it in a way that shoots sparks all the way down Jamie’s spine. He’s so glad you can’t hear his heartbeat like he can, roaring in his ears.

“Dunno. I like my guys with enough hair gel to set their head alight, you know?”

A dig at his look from a few years ago. Of course you’d find a way to mention that without stopping that tone you’d taken on out of nowhere. The tone that was disarming and charming and downright hot.

“You know, I think I know a guy like that,” he said, pretending to search for someone over your head, “You don’t happen to know any mad pretty PR women I could point him to?”

The grin that took over you, bloomed across your whole face, was exactly what he’d been hoping for, finally finding the opening in the conversation to compliment you right back. You move closer to him and he feels himself let out a tiny gasp, but all you do is tuck yourself into his side, winding an arm around his waist. He lets his own wrap around your shoulders as the two of you start walking over to clap the England fans in the corner.

“I’ll keep you posted,” you say, looking up at him, all sweetness. He knows you aren’t, though, because your free hand comes to rest on his stomach as you look up at him. He feels every ab tighten under your touch despite his best efforts, “Guess we’ll just have to keep looking, hm?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, grinning down at you as he tugs you further into him, “If your mate Tiff ever joins us out here, she could be a good option for him, right?”

You push yourself away from him, and its the last thing he wanted. You walk backwards away from him for a few seconds, then shake your head at him with a smile and run to catch up with the rest of the team.

He’s left a little bit awestruck in your wake. He jumps when someone claps him on the back, then turns to see a very smug Rife.

“That bad?”

Jamie huffs out a half-laugh as his eyes go back to following you, watching you congratulate some of the coaches. There’s a little bit of jealousy in his chest even watching you talk with them, and he hates it.

“That bad,” he confirms, still staring at you from afar, “That fucking bad.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #ted lasso #ted lasso x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt series #be still my foolish heart #as someone who watches a lot of football can i just say this gif is the hottest thing in existence

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moni-logues · 1 year

Text

Kintsugi 1

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 5.5k

Content: no real warnings for this chapter, reader makes a couple of jokes about killing herself/dying

A/N: ahhhhh it's finally here!!!!!! This story has been going around and around in my head since last summer and I am so excited (and nervous lol) to finally be posting it! Unlike with AFL, I am posting this one as I write, so I've only got this first chapter written. I have no planned schedule for updates right now; we're just going to see how it goes.

Enormous thanks to @here2bbtstrash and @btsgotjams27 for beta-ing this one for me and, honestly, turning it from something that was like, fine, to something actually good, that works how I want it to etc.

Masterlist | Chapter Two

Chapter One - Peaches

You wiped your wrist on the tea towel hanging from your waist. The juice from the nectarines and peaches you were peeling was all over: your hands, the counter, threatening to drip onto the floor, to run the length of your arm. You were sticky-sweet and anxious. You tried to focus only on the task at hand, taking it one step at a time. Peel the fruit. Chop the fruit. Place the fruit on the pastry base.

You grabbed the knife with still sticky hands and cut the flesh from the stones. You tried to do this neatly, elegantly, so the resulting slice of fruit would look pretty in the finished pie. Your knife skills were still not really up to it.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you whispered, resigning yourself to the fact that this would be a very ‘home-made’-looking dessert – as was everything you baked.

Peach and nectarine pie. When you first made this as a crumble, almost a year ago, Yoongi tried to call it ‘peachtarine’, but you were not convinced the name worked. It was also nearly a year ago that you and he first met. You would never have imagined that a chance meeting would have given you one of the most important people in your life. There were so many little things that had to happen to put you both in that room on that night. You were grateful that the universe got it together to make it work. You were extremely nervous that you were about to fuck it up.

As you placed the fruit on the pastry in the pie dish, you stared, unseeing, out of the window. The late afternoon sun, dying in the sky, shone bright into your apartment; it highlighted the swirling dust motes in the air, sparkling almost like glitter. The cherry blossoms were falling from the trees as if time were running out. The air was still today so they floated and settled like snowflakes; on windier days, they looked like a blizzard.

It had always felt like such a transitional time. Winter was cold and hard and barren. Not without beauty, but it was dark and difficult and so much easier to hole up in your apartment, hide from the world, forget about sunlight and joy. Then cherry blossoms burst upon the scene, a bright reminder that life still goes on. The trees that had looked desolate and empty now embowered with new life. There were two weeks of blossoms everywhere, inescapable. They swept into doorways, fell into your hair, collected beneath the trees like matching rugs. An enormous burst of life after the bareness of winter. Then they all fell and were gone and the weather swept you up in its warm arms as summer arrived again. You liked the cushion, the ushering in, the fortnight in which you could adjust to the world being beautiful again. It was your favourite time of year.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the beeping of the oven. It had reached its required temperature. You finished placing the fruit and carefully slid the pastry lattice over the top. You brushed everything with egg wash and awkwardly elbowed the oven door open, trying not to get your sticky hands everywhere. You slid it in and set a timer. You washed your hands. You washed the dishes. Now all you had to do was wait.

You stood outside Yoongi’s front door, pie held carefully in your hands, breathing deeply, taking a moment to try to soothe your nerves. It was outrageous, you thought, that you could be this nervous. It was Yoongi. On the other hand, it was Yoongi. It was not every day that you confessed to harbouring romantic feelings for one of your best friends. It was not every day that you ripped yourself open and placed your fluttering heart before them, hoping, praying that they felt the same.

It was not every day, but it was today.

You squared your shoulders, shuffled the pie so it rested on the palm of one hand, and used the other to key in the entry code.

“I’m here!” you called as you strode in and shut the door behind you.

You tidied away your cooking stuff, creating as much space as you could. You stacked the drying dishes and equipment on the rack and your tupperware tubs on top of one another, full of still-steaming food. You looked around the room to see how many people were doing as you were: taking both classes. Home-cooking for beginners and baking for beginners. Just one cog in your wheel of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement.

A good handful of people left, their own tupperware clutched in hands or safely tucked into bags; a few new faces arrived. The last of these entered late, after the teacher had begun. You could see him scanning the room and you wondered for a moment if he was lost, the way he was frowning as if confused, looking almost shifty. But he continued on, walking slowly further back into the room, his eyes darting across the counters, looking for a space.

You waved in his direction to get his attention; the only space left was next to you (and you were doing your damnedest not to take that personally). You made sure all of your things were gathered on your side, not encroaching on his. He flicked his eyes to you and then immediately looked away but did eventually take his place beside you with a small nod.

You guessed he was about your age, maybe a little older, and you wondered what he was doing there. You wondered who he was, who he’d be baking for. His dark hair fell like a curtain across his face, blocking him from view. He tapped one slender finger silently against the countertop.

As you peeled the skins from your nectarines, you could feel him looking at you—not just looking at you, but watching you. You turned your head to look back.

“Are you alright?” you ventured, when it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything.

“Those aren’t peaches,” he said simply.

“Oh, no. No, nectarines.”

“But we’re supposed to be making a peach crumble.”

You shrugged.

“Yeah, but they’re almost the same, aren’t they? Except nectarines are nicer, so I chose them instead.”

His eyebrows drew together in a small frown as he continued to watch you disrobe your fruit.

“Gonna tell on me to teacher or something?” you asked with a laugh and he huffed an exhale in response, the corners of his mouth flickering up for a second in something that might almost have been a smile.

“No. I’m just not sure I agree.”

“Oh, well, in that case...”

You took your knife and cut a slice of nectarine, the blade gliding through as if it were butter. You held the fruit sliver up between you and he took it with his mouth, his lips just grazing over your thumb and finger. You swallowed your tiny gasp and watched his face as he chewed and swallowed. He said nothing, but cut a slice from his own peach and popped that into his mouth. Then he sighed.

“Yeah ok, you’re right. Nectarines are better.”

He turned back to his own station, head straight, looking down at his peaches, doing nothing. He tapped his finger again. You took your two remaining nectarines sitting in their bowl of iced water and placed them in front of him.

“You can use them, if you want.”

He looked at you with another frown.

“But you won’t have enough. You need these.”

You stretched across him and took two of his peaches with a shrug.

“It’s a trade. We can make peach and nectarine crumble.”

He grunted but said no more; he simply picked up his peach from the counter and carried on. After a moment, he grunted again: a small thank you. You turned back to your own fruit and continued peeling.

As you began to cut the flesh from the stones, you became aware that he was mumbling something; you glanced at him to see his head cocked on the side, looking upwards, thinking.

“Peachtarine?” he asked, turning to look at you.

“Huh?”

“Peach and nectarine... Peachtarine. It’s not great but I can’t think of anything better.”

You hummed and thought about it yourself.

“I think you’re right that it is the best option but I’m not sure it’s any better than saying peach and nectarine.”

He chuckled and shrugged.

“I’m sticking with it.”

It was all the encouragement you needed. He started talking to you first, technically. If he didn’t want to talk to you, if he didn’t want to be friends, well, too late, he started it.

“I was a little offended, you know, when I found out the first class was going to be crumble,” you began. “And next week is brownies, did you see? I get that this is a beginners’ class, but is it even possible to get this wrong? No one is going to be impressed by something this simple, are they? And what’s the point of going to so much effort if no one will be impressed?”

He didn’t reply but this did nothing to put you off. He had broken the seal and you were absolutely going to flood him with conversation. It was a relief to finally be talking; you didn’t do well in silence.

“I did the class before this one, too: that’s home-cooking for beginners. I’m useless in the kitchen; my bo- ex-boyfriend would gripe about it all the time. And now he’s my ex so I’m spiteful and bitter and learning to cook so I can show him that I actually do know how to take care of myself, y’know? Not that he’s going to know or care. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since I moved the last of my stuff out of our apartment. He’s really washed his hands of me. Which is fine. I get it. I would have done the same. But anyway, that’s why I’m here. Running on bitterness and spite but it’s better than being dead, I guess, right?”

“Are they the only two options?”

Your head span to him in surprise; you hadn’t been sure was even listening to you.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “Sometimes it does feel like spite is the only thing keeping me alive, yeah.” You laughed, harder than you really wanted to, trying to ward off any tension, to make sure he knew you were just joking. “That and now I’ve paid for these classes so I have to stick around until they’ve finished so I get my money’s worth.”

He nodded as he finished sprinkling the top of his dessert with brown sugar and put it in the oven.

“What about you?” you asked as you did the same. “Why are you here?”

You thought he wasn’t going to answer because he was quiet for some time.

“The women my girlfriend works with apparently all have husbands who bake them things to take into the office. I was asked why I didn’t.” He shrugged. “I don’t bake. Never learnt. Until now I suppose.”

“Why do you have to be the one to bake things? If she wants to take stuff to the office, can’t she make it?”

He laughed lightly, a little exhale of disbelief.

“No, that’s not the point. The point is that she wants to go into the office and show off that I’ve made her something. I never do anything for her apparently.”

If you had said it, the bitterness would have been strong enough for him to taste in his own mouth, but he didn’t sound bitter. You thought he sounded resigned. Maybe even sad.

“Yeah, but she could just make them and lie, tell them that you did it.”

“Oh, no, she would never do that. I’m not sure she’s ever picked up a spatula in her life.”

You bit your tongue because, until a couple of hours ago, the same could have been said of you. You were aware that you had been spoilt and were embarrassed that you were a grown adult who didn’t know how to cook even the simplest dishes, but, hey, at least now you were trying. And you never made your ex bake things for you or even cook if he didn’t want to. You could at least manage instant ramen and frequently did (which somehow seemed to annoy him more than having to cook for you). You wouldn’t have starved without him—you hadn’t starved without him. The bitterness you felt about your break-up leaked through and you felt unreasonably annoyed by this woman you didn’t know. You were broken up with for being an incompetent adult and here she was, with a boyfriend who was learning to bake so she could what? Keep up with the Joneses?

“So, neither of you can bake but you’re the only one here even though she’s the one who wants the baked goods. Hmm... Make it make sense.”

He huffed and you couldn’t tell if it was amusement or annoyance, then he ducked down to peer pointlessly into the oven. You took that as a sign to change the subject, so you thrust your hand out to him and introduced yourself. He looked at your hand warily and then took it.

“Yoongi.”

“Nice to meet you, Yoongi. Sorry your girlfriend is a dick.”

You knew you shouldn’t have said it. It was rude, for one thing. And you weren’t 100% sure it was true, for another. But your tolerance for romantic partners – even ones you didn’t know, had never met – was at an all-time low and, really, who gives a shit what people at work think? Who makes their boyfriend commit to twelve weeks of classes just so you can take a cookie to the office? You didn’t expect a response – a grunt; maybe he would turn his back on you; there was even a chance he might argue and defend his girlfriend’s honour.

He laughed.

“Yeah, me too.”

You weren’t able to stop the bark of laughter that rushed out and you felt a sudden rush of warmth for this stranger, this new friend.

“Well, hey, if you do want to break up with her anytime soon, there is plenty of spite to go around. Misery loves company; you know that, right? And I am fucking miserable.” You kept your expression bright to try to counter-balance the admission and chuckled lightly when he just looked at you.

His mouth was a flat line, expression serious, then it softened and his mouth twitched up at the corners. You were struck by how pretty he was when he let his face open, even a little.

“Here she is! Michelin star chef extraordinaire!”

“Shut the fuck up, Teddy.”

“Ouch, someone’s crabby this morning. Did it not go well?”

You plopped heavily into your seat and shook the mouse to wake your computer.

“No, it went fine. It went well, actually. I’ve made a friend.”

“Oh, have you now? A real friend or is this like every woman you ever meet on a night out where you sa-”

“Yes, a real friend and he’ll be a better one than you, I’m sure.”

“You are crabby! Are you going to fuck this guy or what? Sounds like you need it!”

“Kim Taehyung!”

“What? I haven’t said it for ages! So, let me tell you again: you just need a good rebound-fuck. Is he not attractive?”

You pretended to ignore him as you logged in and pulled up your emails.

“Not attractive, bummer.”

“I didn’t say that.” Your defence was quick, too quick.

“So you do want to fuck him! This is progress; I like it.”

“Will you stop? I don’t need to fuck anyone, ok? I don’t want to.”

“Are you sure? Because if you need it, if you really want me to-” Taehyung scooted closer to you and turned you around, resting his hands on the armrests of your chair, looking at you with his sweetest, most earnest and angelic face. “-I will fuck you.”

You cried out and pushed him away as he cackled.

“I would literally rather kill myself than sleep with you.”

He clutched at his heart as if you had stabbed him and replied in song.

“Don’t go breaking my heart!”

You wanted to resist. You wanted not to sing back to him. You wanted, for once, to not be one of the two most annoying people in the office. But you can’t always get what you want.

“I couldn’t if I tried!” you trilled back.

“Oh, honey, if I get restless-”

“Baby, you’re not that kind.”

You grinned at each other, knowing exactly what was coming next.

“Oooh ooh! Nobody knows it!” you belted together.

“When I was down-”

“I was your clown!”

“Wow, someone’s got that Friday feeling!” your director called as she walked from her office at the end of the room. She clocked you with a raised brow. “Might have known it would be you two.”

“Oooh ooh! Nobody knows it!” you cried after her before collapsing into giggles and, eventually, turning back to your work.

“I’m serious, though,” you said. “I’d rather kill myself than sleep with you.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual, darling, as you already know. My point is that you should-”

“Sleep with someone, anyone, yeah I know.”

“I’m not trying to push you to do something you don’t wan-”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing!”

“No! Alright, maybe a little, but I think it would be good for you. We’ve talked about this and I dropped the subject but now you’ve met someone new, someone who might be a good... distraction, rehab, palate cleanser.”

“That’s a gross way to talk about a person, Teddy.”

“Not if they’re on the same page. Not if it’s mutually beneficial. I know you feel like you aren’t ready for it but, honestly, I think you’re going to feel that way until you do it and, once you have, you’ll realise you were worrying over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. I have slept with one person in the last four years. It’s not nothing to... to open yourself up and... display yourself in front of someone, some stranger.”

“You’re taking it too seriously; you don’t have to open up. You don’t even have to take your clothes off: go out in a short skirt, pull your underwear down, and away you go!”

“That is so crass. I have more class than that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

You sighed. A part of you knew Taehyung was right. You just had to get back on the horse. Like riding a bike. Maybe. But your bike had changed since the last time someone new saw you naked. And you didn’t really want to just fuck someone, anyone. You wanted someone to love you. And that felt about as distant a possibility as going to the moon.

It was Friday and you did not want to be made miserable before 10am.

“Besides,” you said, hoping it would put a stop to the conversation. “He has a girlfriend.”

“Ah, alas.”

“Though I don’t think he’s happy with her.”

“Oh dear. I think I see where this is going. Please do not interfere in this man’s private life.”

“I’m not going to! I’m just saying! I called her a dick and he laughed.”

“I’m sorry, you called this stranger’s girlfriend a dick? And you expect me to believe you’re not about to interfere? Just because you are bitter and alone does not mean everyone else has to be.”

“Hey!”

“I’m just saying: you’ve met this guy and you’ve known him for all of two hours and you’ve already decided his relationship is trash and his girlfriend is a dick and you would love for them to break up so that you aren’t the only one who got dumped, so that you know other people are also miserable and bitter and you can lean into those feelings rather than facing the fact that you are heartbroken and lonely.”

You dropped your head into your hands and groaned.

“Didn’t fancy giving me some sugar with that pill? It’s Friday.”

“So come out with me tonight and I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Buy me three.”

“Two.”

“Deal.”

Yoongi was late to the second class, too. You had deliberately saved the space next to you and you waved him over as before. As before, he barely glanced at you before taking his place. As soon as the teacher had finished talking, you started. You were not trying to interfere in his personal life; you were not trying to fuck him. You were just trying to be his friend.

“Did your girlfriend like the crumble?” was your opening gambit. “Not exactly something she could take into the office to share out, but still.”

There was a pause before he answered, just long enough that you thought he wasn’t going to.

“She didn’t eat any.”

You immediately dropped your sieve and turned to him.

“What do you mean she didn’t eat any?”

He shrugged.

“She said she didn’t want any.”

You blinked, buffering, trying to understand.

“I don’t understand; I thought she wanted you to take this class?”

He shrugged again.

“Well, she’ll have something to take to the office this week, if she wants it... Everyone loves brownies,” you offered, conciliatory, sensitive to Taehyung’s accusation that you might be interfering, trying to find the benefit of the doubt to give this woman.

There was no response from Yoongi, so you dropped the subject. It wasn’t often that you were lost for words, that you didn’t know what to say, but your mind was blank.

Well, it wasn’t blank, but you were not going to actually say any of the things that you were thinking. That his girlfriend was taking advantage of what was clearly a loving nature; that she was ungrateful; that he should stop trying so hard to please someone who didn’t seem to care about him; that their relationship seemed unequal and he was on the losing side. All sorts of things that you didn’t really know, that were clearly products of your own situation, things you were projecting onto this stranger and his girlfriend when you had no right to do so. You might have been right, but you might have been wrong and, even if you were right, there’s a time and a place for telling people the truth they might not want to hear. This was not it.

Yoongi cleared his throat as he gently tapped his sieve.

“So, what illicit ingredient have you brought this time?”

His smile was small and unsure; yours in return was wide, bright, all teeth.

“I simply do not know what you are talking about.”

“You don’t expect me to believe you’re just going to... follow the recipe?”

“You can believe whatever you like, sir. I’m just here to learn.”

As you spoke, you dipped your hand into your bag and retrieved a box of toasted walnuts. Not in the recipe. But, as far as you were concerned, a brownie without nuts was an inferior brownie and you were not about to make inferior brownies.

Yoongi chuckled.

“If you will look here,” you instructed, gesturing to the box, “you will note that this is really, far too many for just one person to use...”

Yes, you had bought extra walnuts just in case Yoongi showed up again, just in case he took the space next to you, just in case he wanted them. You had told yourself that it made sense to buy the bigger box; it was better value; you would have plenty left over to make the brownies again sometime... But you couldn’t deny that you were thrilled; he was here and talking to you and making jokes as if you really were real friends. You could already imagine yourself telling Taehyung tomorrow, smug and obnoxious because you had made a real friend like you said.

Yoongi grimaced.

“My girlfriend’s allergic to nuts.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

An awkward silence arrived and you did your best to shrug it off.

“Maybe next time, then. I’ll make a note.”

You noticed that he looked apologetic and you tried to take it in your stride. It wasn’t personal; it was biological. You weren’t trying to interfere in his personal life and that included not poisoning his girlfriend. It was fine.

You moved the box back onto your side and returned your attention to sifting flour and cocoa powder.

“So how did you like the crumble? I assume you at least tried it.”

“Yeah, it was nice.”

“I thought it was pretty good,” you replied. “The first portion anyway. The second was pretty good, too, but by the time I finished it, I honestly never wanted to see a peach or nectarine ever again!”

“You ate all of it?” His eyebrows raised on his forehead in disbelief, an incredulous grin on his face.

You blushed.

“I mean... not all at once. It took me a couple of days... You might say I could have invited friends over to share it out and you would be right, but I simply did not do that.”

He laughed.

“I did do that. They liked it, too.”

“Oh wow, look at you, Mr I’ve Got Friends Who Eat My Desserts. Some of us accidentally choose to eat an entire dessert by ourselves, ok? No need to rub it in.”

He laughed again and you felt the glow of his approbation like the warmth of sun on your skin. This wasn’t why you were taking the classes—you really did want to learn to cook, to self-improve, to become a fully competent adult—but you knew that, even if you dropped out tomorrow, if you had one more friend to show for it, it would all have been worthwhile.

You chatted as you baked; you tried hard to curb your impulse to steamroll over the conversation, to motormouth your way out of this new friendship. Yoongi was sweet and a little shy and you didn’t want to scare him off, didn’t want to annoy him, didn’t want your desperation to seep out of your pores and cling to him like smoke. No one likes stinking of smoke.

At the end of the class, you carefully scooped a still-warm brownie from your pan and wrapped it in tin foil; you put it to the side while you cleaned and tidied everything away, then you handed it to Yoongi.

“Your girlfriend might have to suffer inferior brownies, but you don’t.”

He blinked in surprise, his eyebrows slightly raised, his mouth slightly open, and looked down at your offering.

A sudden panic hit you.

“Unless she’s like, freakishly, deathly allergic to them and will die if you kiss her having eaten nuts or something.”

You shifted your arm back slightly and looked at him questioningly.

“Or, obviously, if you just don’t want it, you don’t have to take it. I just thought- since-...”

He reached out for the brownie, almost tentative, as if he was expecting you to whip it out of his reach at the last second. You didn’t. He took it. He placed it on top of his things and his mouth twisted as he looked at it.

“Thank you,” he said, his face more of a frown than a smile. Then he nodded, took his things, and left.

You weren’t sure what to make of the exchange. You felt like you had got something wrong, but you didn’t know what. It had all been going so well; you couldn’t possibly have ruined it, could you?

You did not gloat to Taehyung the next day. You kept it to yourself, a small needle of anxiety pricking you whenever you thought of that stupid brownie. A bigger needle pricking you when you thought about your next class.

Your anxiety was proven right. Yoongi was late again – as, apparently, he always was – and you began talking again as soon as your teacher had stopped but, this time, Yoongi didn’t talk back.

“How did the brownies go down? Did she take them into the office?”

Silence.

“Obviously, I can only speak to my own, superior, nut-filled brownies, but I was very happy with them. So happy, in fact, that—can you guess what I’m about to say? Yes, I absolutely ate them all myself!”

You laughed, a little too loud, heat prickling up the back of your neck and onto your cheeks as he still said nothing. You swallowed hard and tried to suppress the anxiety which was bubbling in your stomach.

“I tell a lie,” you continued, self-conscious but not yet defeated. “I did take one in to work on Friday for my best friend. He pretended they were disgusting but that’s just what he’s like; he ate the whole thing so it can’t have been that bad! He actually a- oh, wait, hold on...”

You had been operating on autopilot which for someone with almost no baking know-how or experience was very dangerous. You grabbed the recipe to double-check what you were doing and the silence felt stifling around you. You wished he would say something, anything, even if it was telling you to shut the fuck up. A better person might have given up. A better person might have understood his signal that he didn’t want to talk and listened to it. You were not a better person. The sick need for his approval crawled its way into your throat and spoke for you, made a ventriloquist dummy out of you. Even as you wished, yourself, that you would be quiet, even as you heard yourself, the cheer in your voice more and more forced as his resolute silence strengthened, thickened, grew around him like briars, warding you off, threatening, you carried on.

“He asked me to make them again, actually. I told him where to go because I originally asked him if he’d take this class with me, y’know, for moral support, after my break-up and everything—he is supposed to be my best friend, after all—but he refused, point blank. So, naturally, I told him he would not be getting to sample any of the delicacies I would be making. Then I went and gave him a brownie! Because, of course, I’d forgotten that I’d sworn not to...”

You managed to monologue your way through half the class, but once the fairy cakes were in the oven and the utensils and bowls washed and dried and you had nothing left to do with your hands, you gave up. You sat on your stool and leant on the counter, counting the seconds, trying to will the shame and embarrassment away. You were sticky with nervous sweat, hot and flushed, flustered. You were embarrassed and, in turn, embarrassed by your embarrassment; he clearly didn’t care, so why did you? You couldn’t answer the question except to say that you just did.

The silence was thick and crushing around you until the end of class. Yoongi packed his things with lightning speed and was the very first to leave the room. You took your time, fussing and dawdling, and were the last. It shouldn’t have crushed you. It shouldn’t have mattered at all. You didn’t know each other. You could just as easily have gone the rest of your life never meeting him.

But it did matter to you. It did hurt. Especially because last week had been so nice, so promising; last week, he had felt like your friend. And then you’d gone and spoilt it all, but you didn’t even know how. You had wracked your brain all week, but you couldn’t think of a single reason that that brownie should have ruined everything. It didn’t make sense; it made you feel lost and stupid and exposed and embarrassed and a thousand feelings that you had shoved aside in the months since your break-up.

You reminded yourself every day of all the things your therapist was trying to teach you: it’s ok if people don’t like you; you can’t please everyone; please for the love of god stop catastrophising your entire life (that one you paraphrased). But it didn’t really help. You were taking this one very personally and nothing was going to stop you.

[21:17] Teddy 🐻: Not everyone wants more friends. Some people just want to get through the day and make it home.

[21:18] You: Maybe.

Your phone buzzed again and Taehyung was calling you. You rolled your eyes; that man was incapable of having one single conversation over text.

“Besides which,” he began, not even pausing to say hello. “You said he might be having relationship problems. Maybe he’s having problems at work. Or family issues. Or personal issues! Or all of the above! You don’t know what’s going on in someone else’s life. Maybe he doesn’t want to spill his guts to a total stranger.”

“He doesn’t have to spill his guts!” you protested and you could hear the whine in your voice. “I just want to be friends.”

“And he doesn’t.”

Chapter Two

#yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi fic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fic #yoongi #bts

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mountttmase · 1 year

Text

A Mountain To Climb - Chapter Eleven

Note - this was my favourite chapter to write so I hope you love it 🥰 I’d love to know you thoughts so please do let me know and thank you all so much for all your support on this series it’s honestly blown my mind 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 4.6k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut & angst

Masterlist

You were on the hunt for a specific lip liner and you were pretty sure you knew where it was. The bag Mason had dropped off all those weeks ago still sat by your door as you were unable to bring yourself to unpack it. You were meeting Sophia for a quick coffee as you’d taken Thursday and Friday off of work so you could treat yourself to a long weekend and she’d been messaging you about meeting up all week as she was going back to Germany for a few days.

In the end you told yourself to get over it, taking the bag into your room and unpacking it quickly as your makeup bag was on the bottom. You were almost there when your hand grabbed a plastic package and you took it out with a confused expression on your face. Your name was printed in the front with nothing else so you ripped into it quickly, curiosity getting the better of you as you couldn’t face going out and not knowing what it was.

You knew exactly what it was before you’d even got it out of the bag, the blue colour familiar to you instantly and you let out a small laugh as you held it up to reveal Masons name and number on the back of the Chelsea shirt he’d promised you. A small piece of paper was attached to the front by some tape and you carefully removed it before reading it.

Sorry it’s late, I tried getting you one with Kepa’s name on the back but was told it’s impossible so you’ll unfortunately have to put up with mine. I can’t wait to see you wear it next time you’re at the Bridge.

Lots of love

Mason xxx

You let out a short sharp breath after you’d finished reading before reading it again and then a third time. He’d clearly snuck this in the night you went to Bens and your eyes stung when you held it up again.

‘Stop crying’ you whispered to yourself with a laugh, placing the shirt down on your bed before hunting for the thing you went into your bag for in the first place. You knew you’d be late now but you rushed as quickly as you could to meet Sophia. You found her inside her favourite cafe with a small suitcase next to her and you quickly ordered before joining her.

She thankfully kept the conversation Mason free and even though you’d never discussed it with her you gathered she knew something had happed as her and Kai told each other everything and the more she avoided the topic the more you wanted to talk about him until you finally cave and asked.

‘If you don’t know then it’s fine, but do you know how Mason is?’ You asked quietly and she gave you a small smile to let you know it was okay. ‘I’ve tried to not look into anything but I just wanted to check he’s doing alright’

‘Honestly? He not been fantastic. I haven’t really heard from him but Kai said he seemed a bit brighter yesterday. In fact a loads of them are having a boys night tonight so I’m kinda glad I’ll be out of the country so I won’t have to deal with Kai’ she laughed as she rolled her eyes before her phone started ringing. It turned out to be the taxi she’d ordered for the airport and after a quick goodbye she was gone.

Rather than head straight home, you went to the park nearby and sat with your thoughts for the first time in a long time. You knew you wanted to speak to Mason but you had no idea how to go about it. In the end you pulled out your phone and typed up a message for him but you couldn’t seem to get the words right. Finally giving up and going home after about half an hour of trying.

Friday morning you’d set aside for a lie in. You didn’t get them very often but you’d been looking forward to it for weeks. Waking up on your own without the sound of your alarm felt like heaven and when you checked to see the time it was coming up to half nine which made you smile.

The five missed calls and a few texts from an unknown number made you curious though and you quickly read over the texts to see what was happening.

Your heart sunk as you read over what Ben had said, an uncomfortable churning in your tummy at the thought of him wanting you around in his drunken state and you just wanted to wrap him up and tell him he’s alright. You contemplated calling Ben but you knew you’d probably talk yourself out of it so you sent him a quick text and got yourself ready to go as fast as you could.

It was just over an hour later when you text Ben to let him know you were outside and he was soon pulling the door open, giving you a small smile at the sight of you.

‘Thank you for coming’ he whispered, holding the door open for you and you were shocked at the scene in front of you. Cups and rubbish strewn across the floor, different bits of furniture moved about and the whole place just felt like a giant mess. ‘Don’t worry about all this, Masons gonna call a cleaner when he gets up’ he told you and you gave him a curious look. ‘You can go wake him up if you want’

‘It’s fine I’ll wait. You can head off Ben, thanks for getting a hold of me’

‘It’s fine. Thanks for being here, I know he’ll appreciate it’ he nodded before he was out the door.

You couldn’t face sitting here in all this junk so you made your way to his kitchen and rummaged around to find some bin bags so you could make a start on tidying up. Once the hallway was put to rights you made a start on the living room and soon enough you were five bags deep and at the end of the roll. Figuring he must have some more in the cupboard you stood on a chair to so you could look higher up but they were just out of reach still, casing you to reach up onto you tiptoes and just as you placed a finger on them you lost your balance and tumbled to the floor, landing awkwardly on your wrist as you yelped out in pain.

‘Shit shit shit’ you whispered and ten seconds after you heard someone running down the stairs. You didn’t have time to think about seeing Mason properly for the first time in a month before he was standing in his kitchen doorway, dressed only in his boxers as he tried to fathom what was going on in-front of him.

‘Y/n? What are you doing here? Are you alright, what happened?’

‘I was trying to clean up’ you told him as he crouched down next to you. ‘I couldn’t reach the bags and I fell off the chair’

‘Are you hurt?’

‘My wrist is a bit’ you whispered as he placed your good arm around his shoulder and scooped you up before carrying you to his sofa. ‘I said my wrist, Mason. That doesn’t stop me from walking’ you squealed but he didn’t listen to you, just carefully placed you on the seat before running back off to the kitchen.

He came back moments later with a bag of frozen peas that he’d wrapped in a towel and after placing a cushion on your lap he popped your wrist onto it gently before laying the peas on top.

‘Just keep this here a sec yeah? I won’t be long’ he told you before going upstairs. You laid you head back and shut your eyes, taking some deep breaths as the pain eased ever so slightly. You were so in your own head you didn’t realise he was back until he was sitting next to you, now dressed in shorts and a hoodie as he placed some bandages on the coffee table. ‘Can I see?’ he whispered and you nodded as he gently removed the bag away from your hand.

Your wrist was a little swollen but you could wriggle your fingers without any pain which seemed to satisfy him but he insisted on wrapping it up for you, gently apologising every time you hissed or yelped in pain.

‘Are you sure nothing else hurts?’ He asked, securing the bandage at the end but you could only nod your head as you knew your voice would wobble. Once he was happy with his handy work he placed your hand back onto the cushion and looked up into your eyes. You knew they were glassy and he’d be able to read you straight away so you moved towards him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug you knew the pair of you so desperately needed.

He was shocked at first, but it didn’t take long for him to pull you closer and slot his head into your neck. The pair of you didn’t utter a word to each other as you sat there in a tight embrace, your good hand reaching up into his hair so you could scratch over his scalp lightly and you felt him melt into you even more. The only noise in the room was the sound of each others breathing until you built up the courage to pull back and look at him, his own eyes now full of tears making your heart break even more. You took a big gulp before speaking, your voice quite and wobbly.

‘I think we should talk’ you whispered and he nodded sadly. ‘There’s some stuff I need to tell you that I want you to know. You know I said It’ll explain a lot’ you you him with a little laugh and he gave you a sad smile.

‘Only if you’re sure’

‘I’m sure’ you told him and he shuffled down on the seat, placing a cushion down flat so it looked like a pillow.

‘Will you lay down with me? My heads thumping’ He told you nervously and you gave him a small smile before nodding. The pair of you laid down with your heads on the cushion, your hands automatically resting on his chest and as much as he tried to hide a smile, you could tell he was happy that you’d initiated some physical contact and he tentatively placed his arm around you waist. Even though you had a sweatshirt on you could feel him lightly tracing shapes on your back which settled you instantly. You wanted to tell him you missed him but you were trying to hold it together so you could talk to him.

‘I only ever speak to Freya about this stuff, I’ve never really got it all out in one go’ you muttered, warning him just in case you muddled your words but you could tell by his eyes that you were in safe hands.

‘It’s okay. Just take your time and if you don’t wanna tell me then you don’t have to’ he whispered and it took everything inside of you not to lean over and kiss him.

‘Do you remember that day we went for a walk?’

‘The day where you wore a red jumper and I accidentally insulted you?’ He joked and you let out a little laugh.

‘That’s the one’ you chuckled ‘you told me about your family and stuff and I felt so embarrassed about mine that I lied. My life was nothing like yours growing up’

‘That’s okay, I never want you to feel embarrassed about anything like that. I know not everyone grew up like I did’ he reassured you and you gave him a thankful smile before your hand moved up to his jaw, stroking over his stubble lightly out of habit and you watched him give you and adoring look. Even though you were comfortable as you were, you didn’t feel close enough to him so you shuffled forward, tangling your legs in between his as if the touch if his body on yours would give you the courage to speak.

‘Well it was just the three of us growing up. I never had any siblings or loads of extended family like it was literally just my parents and me. That’s all I ever knew. Then, when I was 12 I came home from school one day and my dad was gone. I didn’t think anything of it at first cause he was always the last one in but when it got to bed time and he still wasn’t there I asked what was going on and my mum told me he didn’t live with us anymore. She didn’t tell me why for a while but in the end I found out he’d been having an affair and he left us to start a new life with his other family’ you told him calmly and you felt him sigh next to you.

‘I’m so sorry, that sounds awful’ he whispered and you gave him a sad smile.

‘Yeah it wasn’t great, when you’re that old stuff like that sticks you know? Things were never the same after that. My mum didn’t help, I think I reminded her too much of him and she didn’t like being around me that much’

‘Well that’s her loss’ he mumbled before placing a quick kiss on your forehead which made you shiver.

‘Then, when I was 14 I got my first boyfriend. His name was Max and he was a boy in my class I’d had a crush on for ages. We were together all the time and I think it really pissed Freya and Maddie off at first’

‘Who’s Maddie?’ He asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

‘My other best friend’

‘I didn’t know you had another one’

‘You’ll find out why’ you laughed and this time he laughed along with you. ‘Me and Max we’re together for seven years in total, his family was basically like mine and when I turned 17 they let me move in for a while so we could save up and get our own place. We had all these plans for our future…’ you trailed off and he pulled you in even tighter is that was possible.

‘Y/n please don’t get upset, you don’t have to do this’

‘No I’m fine. Honestly’ you told him, and with one final deep breath you finished your story. ‘It was my birthday and we’d all gone out to this club in London, I came out from the loo and could hear Millie giggling from behind the door that lead outside. I was curious so I followed the sound thinking I could tease her about whoever she was with but that’s when I heard Max’s voice. She was asking when he was gonna finally break up with me so they could be together properly and he told her soon. I didn’t give him the chance and ended it there and then. Turns out it had been going on for a year and I haven’t spoken to the two of them since’

‘Come here’ he whispered, and you didn’t realise you were crying until your head hit his neck and you felt the warm tears press onto your skin. The arm that you were laying on reached up so he could stroke your head whilst his other hand traveled under your top, stroking the bare skin of your back as he tried to offer you some comfort. ‘That sucks y/n I’m so fucking sorry’ he whispered into your hair and you nodded into his neck before pulling back ever so slightly.

‘I know it’s not an excuse, but when stuff like that happens to you twice you start to think it was your fault. Like everything I touch I seem to ruin’

‘None of that was your fault. People are shit sometimes and I’m so sorry that’s happened to you but please don’t blame yourself’

‘It’s why I didn’t want to let anyone else in, I didn’t want to feel like that again’ you hiccuped as he stroked up and down your back gently.

‘I know sweetheart’ he whispered, kissing your forehead and you felt yourself relax at his touch again. ‘I get it okay. I really do. Thank you for telling me’

‘Feels kinda nice to get it off my chest’ you whispered, already feeling lighter about not having to hide any part of yourself from him anymore and he smiled at you warmly. ‘I’m not done yet though’

‘Oh?’

‘That day you came over with my bag, and I shouted at you? Well I was on the phone to Freya when you knocked. She called me to ask if I was okay since she’d figured I’d seen something’

‘Seen what?’ He asked, his face scrunched up with confusion and all you wanted was to kiss his worry lines away.

‘Max and Millie got engaged. I saw it on instagram just before I answered the door’ you told him and you felt him sigh under your fingers. ‘I was so angry. Angry at them, angry about what I’d done to you and I just lost it. I know it’s not right but-‘

‘You don’t have to explain, y/n. I completely get it. I should of knocked a bit earlier I was standing outside your door for about ten minutes, I’m surprised no one complained about me’ he laughed and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

‘I’m not angry about it anymore. Why should I be? They both did a horrible thing and they’re welcome to each other. I guess I’m just annoyed they got their happy ending and I haven’t got mine’ you told him and he was smiling at you almost softly. ‘But I am sorry for what I did to you, and I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you at my house. You didn’t deserve any of that and you were right. Just because they were shit to me doesn’t mean I get to do it to you. I really am so sorry Mase’

‘I mean I shouted at you too’ he admitted and you watched the guilt wash over his face. ‘Im really sorry, I can’t believe I said all that’

‘I understand. I know I’m frustrating and I was awful to you. I only said all that stuff cause I knew it would hurt you and then maybe you could move on from me. I don’t want you to just brush it away like it’s fine cause I know it’s not’

‘I’m not, I just don’t want you to beat yourself up about it. I know you’ve felt bad about things but I’ve been feeling pretty awful about what I said too. We can’t change it but I’d love it if we could move on from it’

‘Yeah? I’d really like that’ you smiled and he gave you a sad smile back.

‘I’m sorry you saw me the other night and thought I was on a date too. I’ve been a bit of a grump for weeks and Bens sister was in town so a few of us went out but I get how you got to that conclusion and it wasn’t nice to see but I’d never do that to you’

‘I know’ you smiled, caressing his cheek to let it know everything was fine and by the way he settled into your touch he looked like he believed it.

‘I didn’t mean any of it at all, I just thought we were finally there you know? That i’d worn you down’ he laughed.

‘That we’d finally climbed the mountain?’ You whispered and he looked at you in confusion . ‘That day after Bens when we came back here and I napped on your sofa? I heard you on the phone saying you felt like you had a mountain to climb with me’ you told him with a smile and he laughed as he tried to hide his face.

‘I mean yeah, It did feel a bit like that. It knew it was going to be hard work, and I needed to be patient and keep going but once I got to the top I knew the view would be worth it and I’d get to see things that no one else would see’ he whispered and your whole body erupted in goosebumps at his sweet words

‘And how’s it looking from up there’ you joked as he tickled your back lightly.

‘Beautiful. So fucking beautiful you have no idea’ he breathed, his eyes flickering all over your face and you felt your chest grow warm as he looked at you with loving eyes.

‘I think I might’ you whispered, as the tears that were threatening to fall overflowed from your eyes and before you knew it your lips were on his.

You were both needy for each other, but you kept your kisses soft, knowing full well you’d have ample time to make up for the lost weeks. His tongue invaded your mouth almost instantly as it brushed up against your own and you could feel his heart hammering in his chest under your fingertips which made you smile knowing he was just as nervous as you.

You’d never had a kiss like this before and when he eventually pulled away the pair of you laid there out of breath and looking at each other full of shock.

‘Can I just check? You did come here to tell me that you want this right? Cause if you’re about to end everything after you just kissed me like that then I will go absolutely crazy’ he told you and you burst out laughing at his serious face.

‘I want this, I promise. I’m not gonna lie and say it’ll all be easy from here like I know I’ve still got stuff to work on but I don’t wanna do it on my own anymore. I like you, a lot more than I’ve ever really liked anyone and I just really don’t wanna loose you’

‘You’ve got me’ he whispered, a tiny smile flickering over his face to match yours. ‘You’ve had me from the second I walked out of my hotel room and found you outside’ he laughed and you cringed at the memory. ‘I thought you were a deranged fan at first’

‘Who says I wasn’t? Maybe this whole thing was just a ploy to make you mine’ you laughed and he tickled your back gently as you both laughed.

‘Well I’ll happily be yours’ he whispered and you felt your heart thud in your chest as he looked at you. ‘I want us to stick together and work through this, yeah? That doesn’t mean we have to put labels on anything just yet but I want you to know I’m here for you and when you’re ready to take the next step I’ll be ready too’

‘Why?’ You laughed, almost astounded at the way he spoke about you and cared for you. ‘I’ve been awful to you when you think about it’

‘Maybe I like a challenge’ he winked and you laughed whilst rolling your eyes. ‘I guess I thought we’d come so far from where we first started that I wasn’t willing to give up without a little bit of a fight and if that means giving you time then so be it. Yeah, I won’t lie it was a rocky start and I did wonder what’s the point sometimes but I’ve felt this pull to you from day one. Remember that first night we stayed at Bens? I couldn’t sleep for ages I just laid there and watched you and thought about how lucky I was that you’d come into my life. You’re smart, and cheeky and you’re kind when you want to be’ he winked and you rolled your eyes as he kissed your cheek ‘you’re also the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen’

‘I think you’re pretty too’ you giggled and he laughed as a deep blush crept over his cheeks.

‘If you’d let me, I’d like to be your happy ending’ he whispered almost shyly and you lent over to kiss his nose.

‘I’d like that a lot’ you whispered back, gripping onto him and you both giggled like little kids.

‘You got plans for the rest of the day?’ He asked, fingers still dancing over your back.

‘No, I was planning on sitting around and doing nothing’ you laughed. ‘Would you care to join me?’

‘The thought of doing nothing with you sounds better than doing anything with someone else’ he winked and you fake gagged as he tapped you on the bum in fake annoyance. ‘How did you get in by the way?’

‘Chilly text me, said you kept asking for me last night and asked if I could come over’

‘Of course he did’ Mason blushed as he tried to remember what he’d said last night.

‘You look like shit by the way, how much did you drink?’ You asked, gently stroking the bags under his eyes before you placed a soft kiss on the end of his nose.

‘Enough’ he laughed as you stroked his cheek, closing his eyes as he was enjoying the gentle feel of your fingers on his skin.

‘Why don’t I make you something to eat? Then we can have a nap?’ you asked and he nodded up at you shyly.

‘You’re the best’ he sighed pulling you into him even tighter as he pressed a few kisses against your neck. ‘But we can order something, I don’t want you hurting your hand anymore than it already is’ he told you leaning down to leave a gentle kiss over the bandage.

‘You’re lucky I don’t sue’ you winked before he pulled you up so he could grab his phone to see what he could order.

‘Oh yeah? What do you want? I’ll give it to you right now’ he laughed and you pointed to you cheek in hopes he would kiss it. It didn’t take much for him to lean over and place a delicate kiss to your cheek before gently gripping your chin so you were facing him. You watched his eyes flicker all over your face before they landed on your lips and he bought you in for a kiss just as soft. ‘That one’s free’ he winked before opening up his phone, leaving you looking down at him with a smile. Thankful that today had gone the way you’d hoped.

Tagged: @alwaysclassyeagle @ricsaigaslec @cinderellawithashoe @vip-access @majx00 @chelseagirl98 @mountpulisic @chaotic-taco-collector-blog

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fan fiction #mason mount series #mason mount concept #mason mount blurb #mason mount fluff #mason mount imagine #mason mount story #mason mount smut #mason mount angst #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #a mountain to climb series

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tgmsunmontue · 6 months

Text

Another Time (Chapter 1/14)

Summary: Jake wakes up in Rooster's body about ~30 or so hours post-Mission and they have to deal with it. They're adults. Apparently.

A/N: There seems to be a lack of body-swap in this fandom, so I thought I’d give it a crack. It’s one of my favourite tropes. I am from New Zealand but I write with lots of ‘z’s and remove a lot of my ‘u’s. However I don’t in my author’s note. Hopefully I caught them all – apologies for slip-ups. (I also type with wrist braces on so my finger mobility can be a bit screwy – that said I’m also a fandom old (but not an elder) so while this isn’t my first fic, it is my first in the fandom and after I’ve taken a break.

Jake’s POV for odd chapters, and Bradley’s POV for even chapters.

Also, obligatory note that I have no knowledge of the US Navy (and that whole ‘girl, what were you doing at the devil’s sacrament?’ thing applies here as well in terms of military propaganda).

(Posting on Tumblr, chapter a day until it's complete (currently 12 chapters in), after which I will post it on AO3 once a day until it's complete).

CHAPTER ONE

Jake wakes up in the sick bay, his breath coming in gasps as his dream fades into mist. Why is he in the sickbay? He doesn’t remember getting here and that’s never a good sign. There’s only half-light, the room has no portholes just some lights left on the dimmest possible setting; he can tell he’s still on the ship. The last thing he remembers though is falling into exhausted slumber in his rack, Javy below him and Payback and Fanboy opposite. He doesn’t feel right though, body aching all over, skin tight in places it shouldn’t be. He holds his hand up in front of his face and squints. Blinks.

That is not his fucking hand.

Okay.

Deep breath.

In.

…

And out.

…

Again.

…

He tries to sit up and needs to slow down the movement, body stiff and he’s not in his own body. Or there’s something very wrong with his head. Or both. He’s staring at mostly bare feet that don’t belong to him (one is wrapped in a bandage and is slowly throbbing in time with his heart – it doesn’t feel like a good idea to test bearing weight on it) when the door to the sickbay opens abruptly and he just stares. He guesses he knows where his body got to.

“Thank fuck! You okay?”

“I… Rooster?” He’s hazarding a guess, but it’s the only one that makes sense. He has no idea where Mav is, the other bed is empty. And he’s somehow in Rooster’s body, and not in a way he previously imagined was ever possible.

“Yeah. Fuck this is weird. You’re in my body.”

“Yeah, no shit. You’re in mine. What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know! I woke up in your rack and promptly whacked my head because I thought I was here…” Rooster says, putting his hand to his (Jake’s) forehead where a bump is already forming.

“Be a little more careful with the goods there…” Jake says, and he feels like throwing up a little, although honestly he’s not sure if that’s in response to seeing himself through someone else’s eyes or if he’s feeling Rooster’s concussion. This is already a colossal mindfuck and he’s only been awake for a few minutes.

“Yeah, you too. Are you feeling okay? I was feeling pretty shit yesterday.”

“I can confirm this body still feels like shit.”

“Okay, here, drink some water. I’m allowed to take some ibuprofen. That’ll help.”

“We need to report this?”

“No! Fuck. No… I mean, maybe it’s just a short 24 hour thing?”

“You think it’s like a stomach bug? You think people just change bodies with someone and it goes away overnight?”

“You have any smarter ideas? I want on the next transport off, and if they think I’m not stable enough to travel… or if something is wrong –”

“There is something wrong!” Jake hisses, because he is not okay with this. Maybe if he wasn’t feeling like he’d ejected and then crash landed he’d be more… relaxed. Fuck if he knows. He can’t argue with wanting to get back to shore though.

“Okay, there is. But let’s get back to shore, RTB and then… figure out a plan of attack.”

“Oh, I cannot wait to hear what you think might work.”

“Shut up.”

The door to the sickbay opens again and they both turn to look at the corpsman entering the room.

“Morning lieutenants. Any reason you’re here Lieutenant Seresin? Not bothering my patient I hope?”

“Not at all, I just needed, uh, wanted to check on him…”

Jake watches his own neck flush in embarrassment, and hmm, that’s interesting.

“He can, uh, stay, while you check me over,” Jake says, because he has no clue what Rooster was like last night, over than alive. He’d been fine on deck right after Mav had (crash) landed, but he suspects adrenaline had been carrying them both forward for the most part. Now it’s been over 24 hours and he’s pretty sure Rooster’s ankle might be broken, given the sharp increase in pain as it dangles freely. He has no idea where Mav has fucking disappeared to, but he’d been here yesterday when he’d popped in for a quick check-in with some of the others.

“Well, okay. Let’s look at your ankle first. I hope you weren’t seriously considering walking on it after what I told you last night.”

“Sorry, forgot. Really need to piss,” he states, which is partial truth and lie. He couldn’t forget something he didn’t know.

“Hmm. Here then.”

Jake takes the container and chances a quick glance at Bradley who is fucking smirking at him with his own damn face. Unbelievable.

“Nothing I ain’t seen before sailor…”

Jake feels heat flood his face for no good reason and that’s mortifying, he’d take his own neck flush of embarrassment over this any day. Of course Bradshaw means it because it’s his fucking body, but the look the medic is giving them is amused, clearly having drawn their own conclusions and Bradshaw is looking completely unrepentant. Asshole.

TWO

#Hangster #Sereshaw #rooster x hangman #hangman x rooster #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfic

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pink-sparkly-witch · 1 year

Text

The Widow - Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Summary: Sam and Y/N are happily married, but everything changes after a fatal car accident leaves her a widow. The Winchester motto: "Family Don't End with Blood," takes on a whole new meaning for Y/N as she navigates her new normal with the help of her brother-in-law, Dean. But what no one can tell her, is what happens when she falls in love again?

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F!Reader (past) | Dean Winchester x F!Reader (eventual)

Warnings: grief, angst, fluff

Words: 2,450

A/N: I am so sorry for making so many of you cry or get emotional from the last chapter. Although I made myself cry writing it, but I never thought it would have the same impact on the readers *hugs*. This one shouldn’t be so bad 🫣💖

You can catch up here!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

One Month Later

Grief is a funny thing; on the good days, you can function like a normal adult by eating and sleeping quite well. But on the bad days, you stay on the sofa just staring at the wall, wearing pyjamas that – like your hair – haven’t been washed in days, and you can’t remember the last time you ate because everything tastes like ash.

Today though, is a good day. You’ve eaten, showered, done the laundry, and now you’re washing the dishes from the lunch you had with John and Dean. One of those things on its own is a huge achievement, and the fact you did them all feels like it should be worth celebrating, but your sense of accomplishment is whipped away just as quickly as it had appeared.

“Have you thought any more about clearing out Sam’s things?” John speaks softly and carefully, like he’s dealing with a caged animal. But when he’s met with silence from you, he lets out a sigh. “Darlin’, it’s not healthy staying cooped up in the house all day surrounded by his things.”

“Dad…” Dean attempts to shut down the conversation.

“Look,” John continues, ignoring his eldest son’s plea. “I know you’re hurting, believe me, I do. And honestly, it’s gonna be like that for a long time. Maybe even always. I’m just trying to make it easier for you. All these things you’re doing,” John gestures around the open-plan living area of the home you shared with your late husband, “aren’t healthy.”

You don’t need this right now. This is a good day. So, you do what you always do when John brings it up; you walk away.

Dropping the plate back into the soapy water, you quickly dry your hands, pick up the basket filled with clean laundry from the kitchen table, and walk away. You know it’s childish, but his argument is one you don’t want to hear because you know he’s right. You know seeing Sam’s things everywhere doesn’t help. You know wearing clothes that still hold a little bit of his scent will only prolong your grief. And you know that calling his number to hear his voicemail message several times a day isn’t healthy. You’re just not ready to let go yet. And that’s something neither he nor Jody seems to understand.

“Dad, you need to drop this. She’s grieving,” you hear Dean say as you step into the hallway. “Do you want to push her away? Because that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t leave her be!”

“I’m only trying to help, son,” John sounds defeated, and you pause to listen to what else they have to say about you. “She’s a good girl, Dean, and she’s choosing to waste away by locking herself in this damn house day after day!”

“Sam only died last month! Her husband has only been dead for six weeks,” Dean yells. “He’s barely cold in the ground, just let her grieve!”

You smile softly at the way Dean always has your back. That’s why the days he comes to check in on you are your favourite. He listens and understands you – or at the very least, pretends to. He gets why you’re still holding on. He gets that it’s not as easy as putting your big girl panties on and getting back on the horse. You lost your husband. The love of your life. You don’t just get up, dust yourself off and walk away from that. And Dean seems to be the only one who understands, which surprises you because John lost Mary when he was around your age and you thought that might make him understand what you’re going through a little more.

You hear John sigh, and from the scratching sound, run his hand over his stubbled face. “I just hate seeing her hurting. In all the time I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her do anything other than smile, and now, I never see that smile. Some days, like today, that hurts more than the loss of my son.”

“I know, dad. I miss her smile too, but she’s going through a process, and she’ll take her own time to do it. What she needs is for us to be supportive and stop pushing her to move on before she’s ready.”

You smile again, grateful beyond words that Dean gets it. Gets you. He’s always been good at reading people and emotions. He knows you better than you know yourself. Better sometimes, than even Sam did.

You’ve heard enough and make your way upstairs to put the laundry away, taking the time to stop, breathe, and reset because today is a good day.

Deciding you’ve hidden away upstairs long enough, you make your way back down to your guests, but stop short when you see John standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“I gotta get going, darlin’. I’m sorry if I upset you, it wasn’t my intention. I’m worried about you and trying to help.” he steps towards you and places a kiss on your forehead.

“I know,” you smile softly. “And I appreciate it… Sometimes.” You smirk, and John chuckles.

“I’ll see you in a few days, alright? I’ve been putting this hunting trip with Bobby off for a couple of weeks and I’ve run out of excuses!” he chuckles again.

“It’ll do you good to get away. You work too hard, and you’ve been taking care of me too, you deserve a break.” John’s been getting the family business ready for Dean to take over for the past few weeks, and you have the suspicion he isn’t quite as ready for retirement from Winchester Auto Repair as he says he is.

“Alright, I’m going. Dean, take care of our girl. Y/N, take care of Dean,” he jokes, and you let out a bleat of laughter, the sound now so foreign to the men in your hallway that they grin like little kids on Christmas morning. With a hug and another kiss on your forehead, John heads out.

“I’m sorry about dad, sweetheart. When mom passed, he didn’t have a choice and had to keep going because of me and Sammy, you know? I think he thinks everyone should be able to do the same.”

“I get it, I really do. But I don’t have anything to fight for, and I feel like I’m barely treading water most days,” you chuckle sadly. “Jody says the same kinda things, you know?” You glance up at Dean and see he’s got his whole attention on you.

“Her latest is: ‘Honey, when are you gonna stop wearing his clothes? Surrounding yourself in his scent constantly is tricking your brain into thinking he’s coming home…’” You mimic Jody’s voice perfectly, albeit a little whinier than she really is, causing Dean to chuckle. “I know she’s right… and so is your dad, just don’t tell them I said that!” you point at Dean in warning, and he holds up his hands.

“Your secrets are safe with me, sweetheart. No one needs John Winchester knowing he’s right about anything,” Dean chuckles before asking the question you know is coming. “So, if you know they’re right, what’s holding you back?”

“Because some days it comforts me. Wearing his clothes, smelling him, seeing his stuff exactly where he left it, makes me feel like he’s still here. Like literally here, watching me,” you sweep your arms around you, “and that makes me feel safe and comforted and loved. And I’m not ready to give that up yet.”

“You said some days,” Dean brings up. And of course, he picks up on that.

“What?” You ask, in a bid to delay the inevitable.

“You said, ‘some days it comforts me’. Are there days it doesn’t?”

“Me wearing his clothes, leaving his stuff around… it’s my choice. But sometimes I catch his scent when I’m not expecting it or find something in a drawer, and it hits me so hard, and I feel like I’m drowning in anger and grief and I–” your voice catches and you stop to take a deep, shaky breath. “Those are the days that kill me. The days I don’t move from the couch or even get out of bed. It’s like if I do these things – even though I know it’s not healthy – it feels better when it’s a choice I have and not forced on me.”

“So, it’s about controlling your grief?” Dean questions and it makes you stand a little straighter and give him your full attention. “They say the last stage of grief is acceptance, right?” He looks at you with a raised brow and you nod your head. “Sweetheart, I think you’re almost there, standing right at the line, but you’re not ready to cross it.”

“What are you, my therapist?” Your attempt at joking falls flat because you know he’s hitting the nail on the head.

“Hey, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it. I’m just trying to understand where you’re at and what’s stopping you from getting to the other side.” He stares at you intensely, and you can feel the heat rise from your neck. “Come on, sweetheart, help me out here. I just wanna figure out what’s going on in that pretty head of yours to see if I can help.”

“What if crossing that line means I’m forgetting him?” You mumble meekly.

“Y/N/N–” Dean starts but you cut him off, realising the need to say it out loud.

“If I clear out Sam’s things, get rid of all his clothes, put the photographs away, I’m removing every trace of him from this house. Our house. What if by doing that, and without seeing those reminders of him every day, it makes me forget him?”

“That’s never gonna happen, Y/N. Your relationship with Sam, your love for him and his for you, will always be a part of you,” Dean takes your hand and pulls you with him to the sofa and sits you down. Rather than take the seat next to you, he sits on the coffee table facing you. “I can tell by the look on your face you don’t believe me, so let me ask you a question.”

“Okay.” You’re dubious but agree anyway.

“Who was your first love? And I don’t mean Sam,” Dean states before you can try that argument. “I mean your first, first love. I’m talking like middle school and the first guy you thought you couldn’t live without.”

“Billy Richie.” It comes out of your mouth before your brain fully registers his question.

“What was Billy like?” Dean smirks, and you grin back at him, understanding where he’s going with this.

“He had blond hair, blue eyes, and a really cute smile. Oh! And he wore a leather jacket all the time, whatever the weather,” you giggled. “He sat next to me in Math class, he was always chewing gum and would wink at me every time he sat down.”

“Oh, Billy was a bit of a bad boy, huh?” Dean chuckles.

“Nah, he was a big teddy bear. He just looked the part.” You smile at the memories Billy Richie is stirring up. “He was my date to prom, and my first kiss.”

“And with that smile on your face, sweetheart, I’d say you remember him just as well now as you did fifteen years ago,” Dean holds your gaze, even gently pulling your chin towards him when you try to look away. “My point is that if you can remember bad boy Billy Richie so clearly after fifteen years, you’re gonna remember Sam even clearer in fifteen years because he was your husband.” Dean leans forward, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I get that you’re not ready to take that final step, and trust me, I have your back against anyone who tries to push you over that hurdle before you’re ready to make the jump. And when you do jump, I’ll be right here with you.” Dean smiles softly as he takes your hands in his. “But I do want you to think about doing one thing for me,” Dean’s voice is kind and gentle, and you know whatever he’s going to say to you is a suggestion rather than an order.

“I would really like you to think about going back to work. Seeing people, getting out of the house and having a distraction for a few hours a day will do you the world of good, sweetheart.”

Dean stares at you with such intensity and all you can see is how much he cares about you. It’s clear that he thinks this is the best thing for you, and the more you think about it, the more you agree with him.

“You know what? I’ll think on it a little more, but I think you might be right,” your answer is not what Dean expects by the way he looks like he’s just won the lottery.

“Awesome,” Dean declares. “Now we’ve got that out of the way, The Lost Boys is on tonight. Wanna order pizza and watch it?” He grins at you, and you can’t help but smile at how boyish he looks when he does that.

“Dean, it’s Friday. Don’t cancel your plans with whichever girl is your flavour of the week to spend the night in with me,” you tease.

“I, uhm,” he rubs his hand over the back of his neck, “haven’t had those kinda plans since the night Sammy…” he doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t need to. “Even if I did,” he continues, “One: you are much more important than some girl in a bar, and two: I’d much rather spend the night watching movies with you.”

“Dean–”

“I mean it,” he insists. “You’re not a burden or an inconvenience – I know that’s what’s running through your head, don’t even try to argue with me! So, are we watching this damn movie together or are you gonna make me go home and watch it by myself? All alone. On a Friday night.” Dean’s feigned grumpiness makes you laugh.

“Fine! I’ll order the pizza! But I don’t have any beer, so if you want some, you’ll have to go to the store.”

“On it!” Dean stands and leans over to press another kiss on your forehead, something that was second nature to all the Winchester men where you’re concerned, but you aren’t going to complain about the sweet gesture. “You need anything else?” he asks as he picks up his car keys.

“No, all good. Just… please promise me you’ll drive safe,” you beg, worrying at your bottom lip.

“Always, sweetheart. I promise.”

Next Chapter>>

@deans-spinster-witch @muchamusedaboutnothing @kazsrm67 @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @leigh70 @waynes-multiverse @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @chriszgirl92 @stoneyggirl2 @marilynnlew @ilovedean-spn2

#the widow #dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #angst

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kozachenko · 1 month

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Finished reading Forbidden Scrollery! As I mentioned in my little post about it before, I would make a full review on it once I finished it, so here we are now!

(Also, sorry I haven't been posting as much art recently, life's gotten busy for me and I haven't really had the time to work on anything big, but I hope to get back into drawing soon)

And honestly? Best Touhou manga I have read so far. Full review under the keep reading tag. Also, spoilers if you want to read it.

The writing first of all, was really good, the pacing is perfect (only helped by the actual paneling and layouts being top notch), the character writing was my favourite part of the manga, and the actual story was actually pretty smart.

So, something I love about this manga is that it all revolves around a core idea, that being, the relationship between Humans and Youkai. While each chapter is episodic in nature, it still feels like those little episodes actually have a purpose, it isn't just filler. There's not one major problem they have to resolve like in CDS, but at the same time the events aren't disjointed from one another like in Lotus Eaters. The way that we see Kosuzu slowly get more and more involved with the Youkai of the human village. I also really like how we learn more about the human village and how it operates, as well as learning more about how the Youkai play a part in it. In each chapter we see a different way that this core theme is expressed, like in chapters 20 and 21 where we see how outsiders like the residents of Eientei contribute to the human village, and in chapters 30 and 31 where we see how humans help Youkai out via their fear of the unknown. And of course, you have the infamous chapter 25, where the most memorable moment from there also happens to be the most flanderized (I'll get to that in my paragraph about Reimu, because her character writing in this manga is the best that I've seen in the Touhou mangas so far). The best chapters that demonstrate this theme are probably all in volumes 6 and 7, where things start to get more intense.

Now onto the writing, and boy while this may be whiplash from reading CDS, the writing in this manga was amazing. Each character has their own unique voice, which ends up making the events in chapter 38 even funnier. Since Mamizou has a very distinct way of speaking, it makes it even funnier watching her be disguised as Reimu and accidentally slipping into her own way of talking.

Of course, this scene is visually aided by Moe Harukawa giving "Reimu" the little cat mouth she gives Mamizou, and also the very obvious signifier of the leaf, but establishing Mamizou's way of speaking early on in the manga helps emphasize the comedy of this scene (that being, a sassy old woman trying to impersonate someone in their early 20s with a very different personality to them).

What's even funnier about this scene is that as soon as Mamizou gets what she wants, she just gives up on trying to speak like Reimu and dips (which is the punchline to the setup of Mamizou almost calling Kosuszu "Little Missy" and then correcting herself)

Also, credit to the English translators for finding words and phrases like, "The real Mccoy" and "Reckon," with how different the Japanese and English languages are (and how tricky it can be to translate between the two) they ended up hitting the nail on the head with the localization and translation.

The actual narrative itself is really well paced, with all the events actually feeling like they happen consecutively to one another, only helped by the little bits in the dialogue where the characters mention previous events in the story. For a manga in a series where upholding status quo is the norm, a lot of changes happen in this manga, like Akyuu starting to write novels under a penname, Kosuzu starting to attract the attention of more and more important people in Gensokyo, and Kosuzu eventually being added into Reimu's friend group. The manga also does an excellent job of tying the events of the games at the time into the story, like we're seeing the behind the scenes or aftermath of a particular incident, especially so with the Urban Legend Incident, where we see Reimu and Marisa get more and more concerned about rumors like "The Story of the Bull Head" and the end of the world speading too far before they can do actual damage. I also like the tone that this manga has, it's inviting at first with how cute and lighthearted it is, but it slowly gets more and more serious we begin to see the truth of the human village, and by proxy, Gensokyo as a whole. Also, the set up and payoff with the parade scroll was really well excecuted, with it acting as like a ticking time bomb in the background as the series goes on. I also really like how each chapter feels different from each other in terms of plot beats, it's not really formulaic like Lotus Eaters was, which helps make the manga a lot more exciting to read, despite it not having a grandiose overarching plot.

Now onto the character writing. As you can probably see, I am turning into a bit of a Mamizou fan. She's one of the most well written characters in the manga and perfectly strikes the balance of being hilarious, yet intimidating at the same time. She's a pretty smart character despite her goofiness, and she's always such a joy to watch (or.. well... read, but that doesn't roll off the tongue as nicely (well actually fingers since I'm typing this, but again, doesn't roll off the fingers as nicely (yipeeee I used a phrase correctly). Also, I really like seeing her relationship with Nue as that of a grandma and her grandaughter who's a chaotic scene kid, but despite these differences they get along perfectly. Aya is also one of my favourite characters to read about in the manga, and I was so excited to see her again. She's always such a delight to see, and also captures that sense of goofiness + coolness. In a way, it's kinda the embodiment of Youkai in Touhou itself. Fun and charming yet supernatural and menacing at the same time. In your usual manga/anime series, it's more likely that characters will lean one way or the other (and anytime they step out of their ascribed personality, it's for a gag and is considered an oddity, wheras with Touhou it's commonplace), so it's a really unique writing thing in Touhou that I don't really see other things, which is really cool. Marisa is also written really well in this, she's really funny and plays off of Reimu really well. Kosuzu herself is also fun to read about, as her childlike view of Gensokyo slowly begins to crack as more and more influential youkai begin to interact with her. I also like how the manga doesn't tell you in the beginning that she's a young, naive kid, instead, it shows you little details like her having a curfew, her parents calling her for dinner, her general outlook on life in general. All of that is contrasted with Akyuu, who, while bit pretentious, was also very fun to read. She plays off of Akyuu's naivete well with her wisdom from her past lives and her knowledge on Gensokyo. She acts like how you would expect a teenager with memories of their past lives to act, with maybe a slight dash of maturity in there.

And now for Reimu, who I think is at her best in this manga. There were times when I legit went, "HOLY SHIT REIMU'S SO FUCKING COOL OH MY GOD-" instead of just going, "Ha ha, Reimu's such a dork." Like, she actually knows her shit in this manga, and it explores the "shrine maiden" side of her character in far more detail than we have ever really seen it before (except in arguably Silent Sinner in Blue, which I still need to re-read, yes I will also be making a full review for that as well once I do get around to it). I use this panel from chapter 27 as my example because she genuinely looks so cool here.

Reimu very frequently uses her skills as a shrine maiden to get to find the answers she needs, and she's not afraid to get her job done. As seen in the now iconic panel of Chapter 25...

This is probably what the manga is most well known for, and when I mentioned how this moment is flanderized, I'm more so talking about how people tend to look at this moment in isolation, and to be honest, Reimu isn't helping herself by saying this a moment before she does this guy in.

Which is then sort of contradicted when Reimu says this after she does the guy in.

So if she has a legit reason for why she did this, why the heck did she call it needless then? I feel like the best way of answering this would be that yes, she didn't need to do it, but from her perspective she had to. It's her job to do so, as she says so herself. Another thing to mention that contradicts the initial reading of that earlier line is just how seriously she takes this whole ordeal. During the pages leading up to this moment, we see Reimu as being uncharacteristically serious about this,

And when she finally arrives at Suzunaan, we get this really good reaction shot of her eyes, and it really says a lot about her mental state at the moment,

and she also gets very serious during her initial confrontation with this fortune teller guy.

Another thing that contradicts the "needless killing" part is how she handeled that one rich guy becoming a Youkai in chapter 37

Reimu is just ruthless when she needs to get her job done in general. Sure, she didn't need to kill the rich guy, she could have just let him go and not do anything about it, but she it's not about what she needs, it's what Gensokyo needs.

In the same chapter where she kills the fortune teller, we get this bit of narration.

Honestly, I feel like this is a kind of "Reimu knows more about Gensokyo than she lets on" kind of situation, because we never really learn exactly how having a human become a Youkai would screw up Gensokyo, but I have heard theories where if a human-who-became-a-youkai were to still try to be human, then it would be cause for concern because then it's like putting a radioactive rock in the middle of a small elevator with a lot of people (ok I know that doesn't make any sense whatsoever but I can't think of another way to put it). .

Putting that can of worms aside, I really like this manga's version of Reimu. Sure she has her dorky moments, but that's not the entirety of who she is, and I really like that. I really like it when characters have vastly contradicting sides to their personality, it makes them more interesting and also more fun to think about. There is so much more that I can say about Reimu in this manga, but I'll just end off this segment by saying that Reimu is now one of my favourite Touhou characters now and she is in my top 5 list of favourite Touhou characters.

Ok now it's time to finally talk about the artstyle and OH MY GOD THE ART FOR THIS MANGA IS GORGEOUS I WANNA EAT IT SHKGAGSLHSKGSAKJDGHKSLDJGHLAHDGLJH;SLGHKDJAH;GKGHDJK;HFGKADHG;J-

Seriously though, I really want to do a style study for this manga because I love it so much. It's expressive, the cross-hatching gives it this really nice and tactile feeling, and the designs the artist came up with for each character are really good. My only critique would be to maybe give Mamizou more wrinkles, or something more to communicate her age, (and I still like the way Mamizou is drawn in this manga). In my previous post on FS I brought up how good the layouts are, and that still holds up to when I finished this manga. Good manga paneling takes advantage of the fact that it's a manga, and uses that medium to it's fullest. I won't go into any more detail here as I have already talked about how good it's paneling is in a previous post, so go read that if you're interested. I feel like we all know what makes Moe Harukawa's art so good, so I'll just leave this segment at that.

Now, I would normally end this segment here, but really, there's one surprise I haven't talked about

One character who steals the show in this manga

A character so good, I had to write an entirely new segment on him

That's right, it's a dude, and it isn't Rinnosuke.

I'M TALKING ABOUT THE MAN,

THE MYTH,

AND MOST OF ALL, THE LEGEND.

ANXIOUS

MUSTACHED

VILLAGER!

THIS MAN, RIGHT HERE, THE GOAT OF ALL MANGA AND ANIME! BEST CHARACTER IN ALL OF EXISTENCE! ABSOLUTELY INSPIRING STORY THAT DROVE ME TO TEARS! BEST CHARACTER ARC IN THE ENTIRE MANGA! GET THIS MAN TO NUMBER ONE IN THE 2024 TOUHOU POPULARITY POLL LIKE HE DESERVES!

Ok in all seriousness, this manga is amazing, (I mean, it has anxious mustached villager in it) I see why people regard it so highly in relation to the other Touhou mangas. It was a blast to read, and it's my favourite Touhou manga now, and is also one of my new favourite mangas in general.

Ok I'm gonna end the post here now, bye byeeeeeee.

#touhou project #anxious mustached villager #reimu hakurei #I tag her mainly because I talk about her so much in this review #forbidden scrollery #forbidden scrollery spoilers #touhou spoilers

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ecoamerica · 24 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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falderaletcetera · 10 months

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because I'm partway through a reread and queueing up a bunch of reblogs about it, and it seems only fair to recommend it first:

Jack Farris doesn’t want to save the world, just every person he knows, encounters, or hears of. It’s a bit of an issue. S. Grey doesn’t want to save anyone but himself. He wants to know everything and majoring in sagework at the Academy is the best way to do that. Laney Jones left her home to avoid the constraints there, only to find different barriers holding her back at the Academy. Eager to learn, to excel, to escape, she has far from given up. Rupert Willington Jons Hammerfeld the Seventh would just like everything to be orderly, thank you very much, but it seems the only way to make monsters and myths (and malicious but mundane men) stop rampaging through his world is to go out and do some hero-ing himself. They are put together as an unwilling study group, but they become something more.

this is Beanstalk. It's first in a trilogy, all self-published, all free on the author's website, and the series is one of my favourites. It has:

– found family, with platonic relationships front and centre

– an adventurer's academy with a complicated legacy, where "hero" means a coloured armband and a diploma

– worldbuilding (appreciative), featuring an interesting magic system and monsters of all kinds, many of them people

– a red-headed boy named Jack, seventh son of a seventh son, who left the forest and grew like a beanstalk. You may recognise parts of his story. You may recognise others down the line.

– there's a whole cast I don't want to spoil except to say I'm currently rereading the first book and really looking forward to reaching the rest.

– there's definitely casual queer rep though. what do you take me for.

– honestly the writer (hi @ink-splotch!) writes all these characters with a complexity and love that I really admire. Some of the chapters that affected me most aren't even about the main cast.

— you may know the writer from her fics, the interactive games Stay? and More a Haunting than a History, or the podcast Second Star to the Left which she co-created with Aysha Farah. I can highly recommend most of the above and will get around to MaHtaH eventually.

If anyone's interested, I'd advise you don't go looking for spoilers. There most definitely is angst, but less so in the first book - hit me up if you want content warnings!

#I'm also queueing up someone else's rec for this but I wanted to put the platonic relationships bit right at the top #for ''I'm aro and I'm feral about it'' reasons #beanstalk #leagues and legends #that second tag is the useful one but every now and then I forget the series name but still remember the first book so I try to use both #falderal speaks #when I say I admire inky's writing I mean i have done for years #it's probably influenced my writing style a fair bit and honestly I hope it has

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mickittotheman · 25 days

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hello new friend! ✨️

saw that post about random questions for your stories, i am yet to read much of your works besides the most recent galladrabble!

so help me get started, what's your favourite fic you've written? maybe your favourite line even? what inspired it?

New friend❗️❗️❗️❗️ 💫✨️ Thank you so much for the ask, I've been waiting to get home from work ALL DAY so I can answer this lol.

So, I do have some (very old) works floating around from past fandoms, but so far the only gallavich fics I've posted have been my drabbles.

But! I have been working on a gallavich fic since like a few weeks before I even made this sideblog, and by "working on", I mean "like over 100k into it so far and not even close to done"

Posting full chapters before I'm done with the entire fic always makes me nervous because what if i have a new idea and need to go back and change something, but I'm always happy to share scenes in the meantime!

Basic premise is it's a vaguely canon-compliant-ish au except they never met growing up. Ian is in his EMT post- Caleb era, and Mickey is newly escaped from the Milkovich House of Horrors and working as a bartender. Inspiration wise, I got this idea for one specific line (from IGGY of all people. like don't get me wrong Iggy is cool and all, but I honestly never thought about him that much until my need to write a stupid pun overcame me) and it somehow snowballed into an Entire Plot.

Anyways, long ramble aside, I have included one of the earlier scenes below if you are interested but if not of course that's fine okay byyyyeeeee 🫣 🤐 😶

__________________

“Third drink of the night, Red,” Mickey says, sliding the newly filled glass of sprite back over to him. “Gonna hafta cut you off soon.”

“Ha fucking ha,” Red grumbles. Glares. Doesn't even try to hide the amused sparkle in his eyes.

He’s been acting weird today, though. Weirder than he usually is, and he’s already usually pretty fucking weird, so that's saying something.

He keeps shooting Mickey these little looks. Scrunching his brows together. Fiddling with his glass.

Mickey braces himself when Red suddenly takes a deep breath and opens his mouth, dreading what the guy might say. Might ask.

“Why do you call me Red?”

Mickey blinks. Out of all the questions he’d been steeling himself for, that hadn't been one of them. He’s not expecting it. Not expecting the serious look on Red’s face as he asks it. “Uh. Your hair. It’s red,” Mickey says like an idiot, as if the guy isn’t fucking aware of that fact.

Red huffs and rolls his eyes. Squints at Mickey suspiciously. Fiddles with his drink again. “Kinda starting to feel like you just don’t know what my name is.”

“Yeah, I don’t,” Mickey snorts.

Red falters. Nearly tips his glass over. “Seriously?” he asks. Looks a bit put out, a bit annoyed, a bit hurt, and over all really fucking ridiculous. “You don’t remember my name?”

Mickey cocks his brows. “You never fucking told me it, man.”

“I did! I–” Red’s eyes dart around, and Mickey assumes he’s flitting through his memories, trying and failing to find the moment he introduced himself. His skin goes all flushed (and Mickey doesn't think its adorable, because it’s fucking not) and he buries his face in his hands dramatically. “Oh my god. I am such an idiot.”

Mickey bites at his lower lip to reign in the smile threatening to pop up. Raps a fist on the bartop. “You good? You’re looking kinda red there, Red.”

Red splays out his fingers and aims a glare at Mickey from behind them. “Ian. My name’s Ian.”

Ian.

Mickey rolls it around in his head, on his tongue, getting used to the flavor of it. Ian. It’s good. Short and sweet, just like ‘Red’. Same amount of letters and everything. Flows better, though, the kind of name that sounds good when it's drawn out long and slow in a groan.

Holy fuck does Mickey need to get it together, this shit is getting fucking ridiculous.

Red– Ian– has regrouped himself while Mickey’s brain was falling to shambles. His pouty glare is back to full strength as he crosses his fucking treetrunk arms across his wide chest and fucking focus, Milkovich. “You didn’t think to fucking ask me what it was? This whole time?”

Mickey shrugs. Rubs at his lip. “Figured if you wanted me to know you would’ve told me.”

Ian uncrosses his arms to flail his hands around. Nearly knocks over his drink again. Mickey sagely reaches over and pushes it out of the danger zone. “Of course I wanted you to know! You think I wanted you to refer to me in your head by the color of my hair every time you think about me?”

“Who the fuck says I spend anytime thinking about your sorry ass?” Mickey shoots out, immediately on the defensive, because yeah, maybe he does spend too much fucking time thinking of Ian, but he’s not just gonna fucking admit to that.

Ian perks up at that. Grins that fucking grin that Mickey knows by now means trouble. “Didn’t say they had to be thoughts about my ass, specifically, but–”

“Shut the fuck up, Red–”

“Ian.”

“Ian,” Mickey mocks. He doesn't think he’s entirely imagining the way something sparks in Ian at the sound of his name in Mickey’s mouth, but he could just be confusing it with the way something in his own body gets set ablaze.

They both swallow. Mickey can see Ian’s adam's apple bob with it. He forces himself to tear his gaze away from Ian’s throat.

He thinks maybe Ian might be flirting with him sometimes. Maybe. But he’s not sure. Isn’t used to this.

Before, he’d always scope out his options, settle on a guy who seemed safe enough. Wouldn't have to say a word. Would just catch their eye, cock his brow, and jerk his head towards an exit. If they followed, great. If not, whatever. No skin off Mickey’s back.

He’s never done whatever this shit is. If this shit even is anything. Which, again, it could be.

Probably isn’t. He’s probably just gone too long without getting his dick wet. Is probably just pining like some fucking school girl after the unattainable quarterback, seeing signs that aren’t there. Fucking pathetic.

It ain't right. Mickey’s not fucking pathetic. He’s just not.

+++

That’s what he tells himself, at least, when he’s leaning his back against his front door hours later. Breath still panting, hand still shoved down his now sticky boxers, tongue still tasting Ian’s name, not even having made it to his fucking bed in his rush to get in and get off.

+++

#mechy answers #my scribblings #also YAY first ask on this blog whoop whoop 🎉#i can be bribed into sharing more scenes #and by “bribed” i mean “given the tiniest crumb of encouragement” lol #also NEW FRIEND YAY

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