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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

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It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 8 ] || [ Chapter 10 ]

Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: i think Ghost always steals Soap's hygiene products bc he cannot be arsed to buy some for himself.

Chapter 9: Drinks?

The moment the helo touched down, the soldiers descended, each of them parting ways as they went about their regular business, returning their gear to the armory, debriefing, showering, eating…

Almost a whole hour after their arrival, Simon threw himself down onto his bed, his skin dewy from the shower, his hair combed to the front and dripping over his face.

He popped open the top drawer of his nightstand and fished out his phone and charger. He set the charger up and turned on the phone as it charged up.

Simon didn’t often use his iPhone. Sometimes he forgot he even had it. The only times he did was to check Soap’s and Gaz’s insta/snap stories (because he liked being up to date on what they were doing) and when they were all on leave and had parted ways, so he could check the groupchat.

Once the phone turned on, he immediately beelined for Tinder and opened the app. The app lagged a bit at first but, open loading up, he saw it.

99+ likes, 99+ messages.

The big majority of them were girls, too young for him, thirsting for him, even with his face being hidden. He always knew he could attract people, so it didn’t exactly surprise him.

Rolling his eyes, he flicked his finger over the screen until he found your chat and clicked on it.

Simon: I’m back and in one piece. Simon: I think you need to wish me luck more often.

He didn’t expect you to answer him immediately, even if it was only 6 P.M. on a Tuesday and you’d likely be at home and free, considering the job you listed on your profile.

However, the Read notification popped up under his text almost immediately and your dm came right after without the app even announcing you were typing.

you: omg i was literally JUST checking to see if you had said anything you: welcome back!

The text made a smirk take over his scarred lips before he bit the bottom one and typed out a reply.

Simon: Have you been waiting to hear from me for 3 weeks? you: noooo Simon: That’s frankly adorable. Simon: Didn’t think I’d have gotten in your head that strongly. you: oh piss off simon. you: ur not that great. Simon: You’re still texting me. you: sooo???? Simon: So, I can’t be that terrible. Simon: Got your attention, didn’t I? you: oh piss off you: ur so cocky and for what Simon: Not cocky. Just sure of myself. you: no Simon. No? you: no 😤 Simon: Okay then. Simon: Suddenly not sure of myself because you deemed it so. Simon: I’m very insecure now. Simon: Is that better? you: stop being such a bloody smartass 🙄🙄🙄 Simon: You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart. Simon: I can’t take this. Simon: Going to go hug my pillow and cry some more. you: oh no you: i’m making the giant cry? 😱 Simon: Is that a dig at my height? you: YES Simon: My God, I’m going to cry even more. Simon: I’m being bullied. you: good!!! 😤 Simon: I’m making you pay for my therapy. you: pay for it yourself!!!! 🙄 Simon: How about I pay for dinner for the two of us one of these days instead?

You didn’t answer immediately after that. You always did that whenever he flirted with you and spoke about taking you out.

Simon had a shit-eating grin on his face, imagining that you were all annoyed at him behind the screen. He was right in guessing you were shy about going out, he assumed.

you: no. you: but you can buy me a drink tonight.

His jaw dropped and his eyebrows raised just a bit.

Simon: It’s a Tuesday night, are you sure? Simon: You know going out for drinks on a Tuesday is usually a sign of alcoholism? you: ur backing out now? you: wheres all that bravado of yours? Simon: Oh no, sweetheart. I’m not backing out, I’m asking if you’re sure. you: if i wasnt i wouldnt have invited you. Simon: Fair enough. Simon: Where? you: the same pub i met up with john at maybe? Simon: Rog. Simon: 30 minutes. you: i need longer to get ready. Simon: That’s fine. I’ll still be there in 30. you: are you going to be wearing the mask? Simon: 🤷‍♂️ you: SIMON you: YOU CAN’T BE PULLING OUT THE EMOJIS LIKE THIS you: YOU STARTLE ME EVERY TIME. Simon: Good. Simon: See you soon.

Setting the phone down on the mattress, Simon got up from bed and took off his towel, tossing it over the back of his desk chair before opening the top drawer of his tall dresser, grabbing a pair of black boxer briefs and putting them on.

Then, he rummaged through the other drawers looking for his one ‘going out shirt’™️ (which was actually a black long-sleeve compression shirt) which he put on along with a pair of dark jeans. It was a simple outfit.

Then he slipped on some black boots. He threw on a leather jacket over that and tucked a black neck gaiter into the neckline of the t-shirt, hiking it up to cover his mouth and nose.

Barely a minute later, he was making his way into Soap’s room and across the small space that separated him from the bathroom.

“Going somewhere, L.T.?” Soap probed from his spot at his desk, eyebrows raised and his eyes locked on the older man’s with intrigue. He rarely saw Ghost in civvies and even more rarely did he see him without a hoodie.

Unlike Ghost, Soap had made his officer’s quarters into his own living space, having brought in a gaming computer and chair, a small beanbag, and had plenty of knick-knacks around.

“Going out.” Ghost said simply as he grabbed Soap’s hair gel and squirted a glob of it into his hand before lathering them and using them to run through his blond locks which were exposed without the hoodie or signature balaclava.

“Out? On a date?” Soap asked Ghost as he quickly jogged up to the bathroom door, watching as Ghost fiddled with his hair.

“No. Just drinks.” Ghost replied as he tugged a bit as his hair to make it stand up straight.

“Is this someone you found on Tinder…?” Soap probed as he leaned his shoulder on the bathroom door, a boyish grin on his lips.

Ghost looked over at Soap out of the corner of his eye as he finished fiddling with his hair and rinsed his hands under ice cold water in the sink.

Soap took Ghost’s silence as an affirmative response. “Pro’lly a shag too, hm?” He joked, earning him another glance out of the corner of his eye. “Bloody hell, L.T. tell me all about it later, yea?” He laughed.

“Fuck no.” Ghost added as he grabbed one of Soap’s cologne bottles and raised it up for a sniff before scowling at the scent and setting it down again.

“Aw, c’mon L.T.!” He pleaded.

“Get your own date, MacTavish.” Then, he just made his way right out the door, forcing Soap to move out of the way, looking a bit like a wounded puppy.

“I’m not getting anything interesting on there!” Soap lamented with a sigh.

“No? Well, I’m sorry for you, then, Johnny.” Ghost quipped as he opened the door again and stepped out into the hall, leaving Soap behind.

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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur

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#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod smut #simon ghost riley x reader

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bellswlw · 8 months

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modern!ellie williams headcanons

i’ve literally been SITTING on these since april so… i might make a pt 2 who knows but i need to get something out. also cw for fem presenting reader, kindaaaa smut mentions but no full scenes. i think that’s all enjoy<33

ellie definitely talks in her sleep. most of the time is basically incoherent slurring, but sometimes if you get lucky enough to wake up to it, you can hear her having full blown conversations, hand gestures and all. “here. take it, here.” she says, her voice coated thickly with a rasp and her hand held out in front of her. she’s pretending to hold something in her hand, shaking it when whoever doesn’t take what she’s offering. you clasp a hand over your mouth to stop the laugher from bubbling over. but she catches you then, her hand immediately forming into a straight point and saying, “don’t laugh.” and your eyes widen in shock only for ellie to slouch against the mattress with a small huff. she’s fallen asleep again.

i like to imagine ellie cutting off her skinny jeans into shorts in the summer. like taking her knife and just fucking cutting them clean off while she’s still wearing them. and after she’s done she finally looks up at you asking, “they even?” and you have to laugh because… no. her right pant leg was significantly shorter than the left, resulting in her having to slowly, bit by bit trim off more fabric until she had accidentally went from wearing shorts that fell below her knee to ones that rode up the middle of her thigh. she scoffed, trying to tug at the phantom fabric “shit, they’re too short,” and she adjusted them on her, trying to get comfortable in her new clothes and waiting for a response. she looks up at you, and you can’t even draw your eyes away from her thighs. you’d never ever seen ellie i’m something like this, so it was a treat for you. eventually you speak, “i like ’em” and ellie smirks at you before taking a step closer, whispering under her breath, “course you do.”

ellie would do anything for you. including, going with you to your nail appointments and getting her nails done to match yours. although, she kept hers short, with a clear base and small black flames curling under the top coat. she sits patient and quietly for you to be done, watching you scrunch your nose at her and saying “can you itch, please?” and you’d tip your head toward her before a gentle finger swiped away the small tingle. driving home after lunch, she would grip the steering wheel lightly, her fingers still slightly spread apart not being used to the feeling of polish. “you sure it’s dry? it feels heavy.” and she looks over at you before you ask for her hand to check. “ellie, it’s been two hours. i think you’re good.” and you ran the pad of your finger over each finger, she was set. (let’s also not forget how her cheeks flush as she slips her thumb into your mouth and seeing the design disappear and send a flood of wetness straight through her when you release it with a moan)

ellie kissing your thighs before going down on you. that’s it. it’s canon i know it.

she also definitelyyy would have absolutely no self control seeing how good your ass looks in your best jeans, watching as you’re doing something super domestic like loading the dishwasher or switching the laundry… or even simply bending over to grab something you dropped before she slides a finger under the thin strap of your thong and snaps it against your skin. you’d straighten up immediately, letting a gasp fill your lungs before your mouth falls in a hard line. and of course she’d look away, pretending she didn’t do anything with a smirk glued to her face.

i totally headcanon ellie having a red iphone. and she definitely doesn't have a case on it but yet still gets upset every time she drops it and a new crack chips away at her screen somehow dodging her camera

oh and she is a fucking nerd when it comes to comic-con, like in the best way possible. you tag along with her as she walks from booth to booth, nearly dragging you behind her with a single hand. like she wears a lanyard (not around her neck, but strung through one of her jean loops beside her karabiner with her car keys) and everything, collecting new pins with nearly every stop. you stand silent beside her as she talks to someone on the other side of the booth, seeing her grinning from ear to ear when she finds out that one of her favorite characters has an entire spin off series. she turns to look at you for a moment like she couldn’t believe it, and you smile at her before she scrambles to look up the series title on her phone. and as much as it might not be your thing, you just cant deny you don’t get some enjoyment out of it when you see how happy she is when the two of you are finally back in the car. “that, was fucking awesome.” and she sighs in her seat before asking you what you want to eat.

if she’s sitting next to you and not really paying that much attention, your hand will squeeze lovingly on her thigh and it makes her jolt a little, her eyes finding yours to see your smirking at the sudden twitch of her leg. “jeez, be gentle yeah?” and then she’s focusing her attention back to what was before, trying not to think about how later on she’d be wanting to feel the back of yours against hers when she’s drilling her strap into you ass up.

she’s always going “oh yeah?” or “that so, huh?” always egging you on, trying to find your eyes when you look away and feel the heat flood your skin. such a casual dominance about it. wanting to challenge her and be put back in your place with a simple question… one you can’t even answer without lying.

ellie loves tv girl and deftones like… don’t tell me she doesn’t bc your a liar and a fraud— give me money. she loves them. end of story.

#the last of us #ellie tlou2 #bellswlw #inbox !#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #modern!ellie williams #ellie headcanons #ellie williams x reader

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butchkelev · 1 month

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Hello, I bounce between two names but typically go by Will online! I post lewds, code on neocities, take other photographs, and read often. I am using this post to talk about attempts at raising funds for long-needed top surgery, and the gfm I use to host it. I’m a trans stone butch, and I have been publicly iding as a trans man since 2018. Since puberty (2015?) however, I have been desperate to get rid of two glaring, physically heavy boulders on my chest. I am a full-time blue-collar worker at a commercial paint store, and since we lift hundreds to thousands of five gallon buckets (60-100 pounds each) every day, I cannot safely bind on or off the job as I need to rest. Even sports bras bind too harshly due to my size, and when wearing one I cannot take in a full breath. Sizing up is not an option, as my breasts are severely saggy and inhibit my mobility at work (and mental power out of dysphoria) as they move. I work an eight and a half hour shift every weekday and drive half an hour to and from my job- that’s at least 9.5 hours of (light?) binding every weekday, and every weekend usually adds 4-6. I have been binding (properly, I swear, as this 9.5/5 in wage labor thing started seven months ago) from such a young age that my breasts are abnormally saggy for their size and have already lost most sensation. There is no way to get that back (I do not want it back), but there is a way to give me strength and confidence and tame dysphoria, and that’s of course a double mastectomy, or top surgery. All the money I earn at my full-time job needs to be saved for my run from southern Florida, and as such I cannot afford to save for gender-affirming surgery whatsoever. I have a gofundme here, which is the only place I currently take donations.

If any of my photo sets have got you going, I seriously urge you to tip me (and, while you’re at it, swers on this site that you dig) the only way I have set up and help me live a fuller life. I have not hidden my work behind a paywall, as I doubt it would’ve worked anyway, but this funding is the top motivator of why I post at all while I still have breasts. So, if you’re into any of it, let’s keep this shit going!

If you want a gift, I have NSFW offerings below the cut.

Thank you dearly for considering helping, and sincerest biggest most insane thank you to anybody who has pitched any amount to me—it lights up my world, really, and I cannot thank y’all enough. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Alright, you want more… fair enough!

I cannot do videos or self penetration in any hole. I can, however, show hole in photo sets tailored to your descriptions and desires. Each “set” is three photos each, and may include extras for no charge; only three are guaranteed per concept. Any donation at or above 8$ and proof of an email receipt gets you a slot (equals three photos or one “concept”). You can talk to me about details before or after one is placed, though I suggest before if you know ahead of time that you want this, because if you make a donation but I cannot fulfill your request, I cannot refund you. What I need to know is:

-vibe, concept, other synonyms? you can even be abstract, though I’ll likely ask more clarifying questions -what am I wearing? glasses, nothing, nothing but a collar, full clothes, etc., go nuts (browse existing photos to get an idea of what I have; I cannot afford to buy new objects or clothes) -are there any parts of my body* you want me to focus on? -subby or dom(ish)? pup-oriented? -any camera, only Nikon (denim sets on my profile were shot with such), only iphone?

These photos will be yours and yours alone, and thus will not ever be posted to butchkelev for other eyes, unless you would like me to do so** with direct credit for concept and funding.

*I know a lot of you really, really get off on the exact breasts I have been so long hellbent on ditching. If you want to see a photo, one photo, of my boobs without them being pinned down or hidden, I charge 30$. Any additional photo is also 30$. I will not take these photos lazily, and they will be quality, but my breasts, big as they are, are not picturesque (sagged to the point of mutilation), so proceed with caution and seriously curb your fantasies. If I send you a nude including my uncovered chest, you are NOT allowed to respond with any positive comment on them. I keep take the cash and block you. I know bodies are neutral, but from strangers or mutuals or partners, I refuse to take any “compliment” on what I desperately need to destroy. It is extremely disrespectful and not at all gentle or kind to me. **I will not share any photos of me with an uncovered chest on my account no matter what.

Anyway :,) Thank you for anything and everything!

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kinopio-writes · 1 month

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Hi!!!! I’d like to request Vox and a reader who just refuses to get like new technology at all because they’re like “I don’t wanna waste money when it still works!” Like their phone case could literally be hanging on by a thread and they’d still refuse to get a new one

You don’t have to do this request if you don’t want to, take care of yourself and drink water❤️

A/N: Thank you. I keep forgetting to drink water every day. The only time I remember to drink is whenever I eat. Take care of yourself, too. And I’m the same as the reader you’re describing, lol. I still have an iPhone 6 and it’s still working. The battery drains so fucking fast though.

Warnings: None

———

Vox x Reader who’s a minimalist

• while Vox is someone who owns (I think is) a multi-billionaire company and never had to think of not buying things he needed or wanted, he might agree with you about the money part

• he’s like Grunkle Stan from Gravity Falls or Scrooge McDuck (rich as hell but doesn’t like wasting money)

• but the thing is, he owned technology

• if it were any other stuff, he would be okay with it (it’s your money, after all. You do you)

• but it’s literally what his brand is built around

• he could just…give you a new one

• “No! I don’t want a new one.”

• he’d take offense to that

• because he already put all of your personal information in, from the apps you downloaded to your photos and, heck, your passwords, too

• and he did all of that without syncing it with your old phone (yeah, he knows everything—it’s not creepy at all)

• he knew you were complaining about the darn thing and decided to give you one

• so…why didn’t you want it???

• “Because it still works.”

• he’d just give you the deadest pan (not a word) ever

• your phone was old as hell, so the battery is pretty chemically fucked up

• it was also a device that he no longer puts any new updates in (because everyone else already moved on from it), so your phone was pretty outdated

• like, extremely outdated

• all of which meant that there would be some slight difficulty with communication

• and this man thrives from Facetiming you (he’s a busy guy)

• there would probably be more times you Facetime him than actually seeing him in person (assuming you don’t live with him. He probably has cameras there regardless)

• you’d keep complaining about how he keeps bugging out after a certain time has passed in the call or how it’s already gone down to 5% or how your phone is overheating because you’re charging it while calling him or how it’s just searing hot in general every time you use it—speaking from personal experience, lol

• it’s the reason why he decided to give you a new phone (he wanted longer calls without you having to hang up every 20 minutes because you needed to charge it)

• but noooo—your stubborn ass still insisted on using it because ‘it’s still working’

• ...yeah, no, he’s not taking any of that shit

• he’s still going to give it to you whether you like it or not

• his proposition is that, okay, you can use your old phone, but you have to use the new one for calls

• that’s all he’s asking for, really

#hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #kinopiowrites

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dark-fics-4-you · 8 months

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okay first off, i love you and your works so so much, seriously i wait for you to post new stuff😭 second off id loveee to see some dark rafe as a boyfriend headcanons; i know you'd do an incredible job<3

thank you so much for the kind words!! <33 love youuu 🥰

dark!bf!Rafe Cameron Headcanons

warnings: smut, coercion, dubcon, manipulation, location tracking, jealousy, violence, drinking and drug use, overstimulation

dark!bf!Rafe would spoil the everloving hell out of you at the start of your relationship. When you were with him, he refused to let you pay for anything "i just want to treat you like the princess you are, baby." This included food, clothes, lingerie, jewelry, and even a brand new iphone when you accidentally shattered the screen of your old one.

little did you know, your boyfriend had set up your phone before he gifted it to you, making sure that your location would be visible to him at all times, and that he would be able to see anything that you texted to anyone.

Rafe always wanted you to spend all of your free time with him. he would constantly show up at your house to pick you up for surprise dates, taking you out shopping or to an expensive restaurant of your choosing.

Anytime you questioned how he always knew that you were free when he came by, he always had an answer, accompanied by a sheepish grin, “i guess i just know you that well, y/n/n.”

Rafe hated the fact that you had guy friends, mood instantly souring anytime you mentioned wanting to hang out with them. It was hard enough for him to tolerate you hanging out with your girl friends, but Rafe felt especially protective of you around your male friends.

After seeing you talking with one of them at a party, much too enthusiastically for Rafe's taste, your boyfriend waited till he could talk to your friend alone before he threatened to break his nose if he ever saw him talking to you again.

The next day, when you sat on the couch gazing at the hurtful text from your friend that said he wanted nothing to do with you anymore, your boyfriend rubbed circles in your back as you cried into his chest, hiding the triumphant grin that tugged at the corner of his lips. "it'll be okay baby, I'm here to support you, and I'm not going anywhere."

You and Rafe didn’t get into arguments a lot, but when you did they were ugly screaming matches, baseless allegations of cheating berated at you as you sobbed, trying to calm your boyfriend down.

The arguments always ended the same way though. With you laying face down, ass in the air, head pushed into the pillow as your boyfriend took out his frustrations on you, not stopping until you had came around him five times

Afterwards, he held you in bed, kissing you tenderly and whispering into your skin, “i’m sorry y/n, you know how jealous i get, it’s only because i love you so much” and like the trusting, naive girl you were, you believed him wholeheartedly

Rafe was always super handsy in public, even if you voiced discomfort, never one to shy away from public sex as a way to tell every guy in the Outer Banks that you were his girl

Fingers wandering under your short skirts at house parties, a smack on your ass when you bent over at the golf course in front of his friends, fucking in his truck with the windows open before picking up weed and blow from Barry

You didn’t particularly like Rafe’s coke use, and had tried to bring it up to him many times, but he always knew what to say to turn the sympathy back towards him, “you know i’ve been having a hard time with my dad, princess. i feel like you and coke are the only thing that can calm me down. i just need it a little longer and then i’ll quit, i promise.”

Every party the two of you went to was an opportunity for him to show you off, and he had a habit of never letting you leave his side, arm firm around your waist, always stealing kisses and nipping at your neck to remind everyone who you belonged to, glaring at any guy who looked at you funny.

Rafe would pour you drink after drink, offering you hits off his blunts and pressuring you to do lines of blow in between. He loved how you always got more touchy with him when you were drunk. Not only that, but you allowed him to get more handsy in public than if you had been sober, “relax, it’s a crowded party, y/n/n, everyone’s hooking up.”

Rafe always loved to push your boundaries, testing the waters of what he could get away with

He would wrap an arm around you, supporting you as you drunkenly stumbled into the nearest unoccupied bedroom, before gently helping peel off your clothes as he kissed you, silencing your worries about leaving your friends behind, “i can’t think about anything else but you right now y/n. you don’t get what you do to me.”

Desire clouded your mind with his every caress, and before you could think it over, your ‘no’ had turned into ‘just the tip’ at his suggestion

And yet, every time, you found yourself in the same position, thighs shaking as you came around his cock, moans muffled by the ringed hand at your throat, “mm there’s my girl. felt like you needed that.”

His favorite punishment for you whenever you pissed him off by getting too close with his friends or acting like a brat was overstimulation.

Rafe caught you off guard every time, delving between your thighs with a playful smirk. He kissed and nipped at the tender flesh of your inner thighs before he would eat you out, slowly pushing his fingers into your dripping pussy.

After the first orgasm, you were already a panting mess. But you were surprised when he didn’t stop, quickly pushing you over the edge again, large hands firmly clamped around your quaking legs.

By the third, you realized what he was doing, already so overstimulated that you were begging him to stop, tears streaming down your face as he lapped at your sensitive clit. The pleasure building inside you at every thrust of his fingers had you coming again and again

No amount of tears or apologies could ever stop him, “you wanted to act like a slut, so don’t be surprised when i treat you like one, sweetheart.”

Rafe was only satisfied after you sagged against the bed after your seventh orgasm, finally allowing you to catch your breath as he peppered gentle kisses all over your body and face, whispering praises and telling you how much he adored you. “my perfect y/n. i never want to let you go.”

#rafe cameron #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron headcanons #dark!rafe cameron headcanons #dark!bf!rafe #obx

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thatsdemko · 9 months

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good riddance - m.verstappen

part one (the story of us)

masterlist

warnings: angst

a/n: oh I’m so sorry… but Taylor swift doesn’t always have happy endings!

—

the cameras, the microphones, the tape recorders, the iPhones, and many other devices were shoved in your face the second you stepped into the paddock. nobody seemed to care about Charles red pants or that Lewis was shirtless, everyone cared about you and max.

it’d been a week since your first win, and exactly two days since the article was released. you’d have a lot to talk about in your drivers meetings, and you dreaded that moment more than the cameras in your face.

an audible groan escapes your lips as fans and interviewers trip over your feet, you’re so lucky the Red Bull hospitality is just feet away from you. home sweet home, you could relax and watch them all flock around other drivers in the comfort of your inn.

however, you see those blond little hairs in the window. they seep out from under his hat, he’s throwing his head back most likely in laughter, and it pisses you off. how can he be laughing in such a serious time? why couldn’t he have just called instead of trying to turn your life into a nightmare.

walking up those steps you’re thankful the cameras don’t follow, because when you whip open that door a very noticeable silence falls to the room. suddenly, you don’t feel at home anymore.

you watch the eyes all fall on you, it’s like a slow motion scene from a movie. where the camera pans to the disgusted looks, and the new girl at school nervously looks around for a place to sit in the lunch room. that’s how it feels right now.

his eyes are the only ones that don’t move. they are glued to the Aussie in front of him who’s a good distraction.

you find an open table and take the seat throwing your things into the chair opposite of where you’re seated. the noise seems to pick up again, and your eyes search everywhere for a comforting face, maybe someone who will talk to you, but nobody budges. everyone must be on his side.

and it’s easy to figure why they are. he’s a two time world champion, and he’s a man. everyone you ever knew had turned against you in the matter of a week. well fuck that, you think to yourself, two can play this game.

you pick up your bags and storm out the hospitality going to a place you never thought you’d be.

“y/n?” he looks up from his computer, dark eyebrows furrowed with confusion, “darling, what can I do for you?”

“I want work with you,” you pause watching him cross his arms over his chest, he leans back into his chair nodding for you to continue, “I want to drive for Mercedes.”

—

no contracts were worked out just yet, things were still very under the radar with frequent texts and calls between Toto Wolff and others, but the head master of Red Bull, Christian Horner, had all of no clue. not until this morning.

“so can you confirm y/n is not staying with Red Bull?”

Christian’s face contorts, he laughs a little shaking his head, “no, we plan to keep y/n. we just told max he needs to get over himself and hopefully they will work things out. I know they will.”

Toto laughs into his microphone, “maybe if you had taken better care of y/n there wouldn’t be rumors of her departure.”

the room falls utterly silent. the other team principals are no longer of interest when the interviewer turns to the head hunch of Mercedes, “do you care to elaborate, Toto?”

“I think what I’m saying is obvious. we hope things work out, but if not? we’ll be waiting in the wings.”

—

the drivers conference is awfully uncomfortable. you’d found a seat in the corner of the room towards the back. yuki tsunoda is seated two seats away, his legs barely touching are an awful nice distraction to the world around you.

he’s seated with Charles and checo, his rumored new teammate. when he walked into the room, all the drivers congratulated him on his successful previous weekend, and not a soul even acknowledged your presence. this would be your falling out of formula one, all because max verstappen took everyone you ever loved and turned them against you.

why did he get to win? why did he force you into the corner? none of it was fair.

the room clears after the two hour long meeting. every inch of you is sore from the uncomfortable chairs as you stand up waiting to be the last one out.

“hey,” Charles moves from the line out of the building to where you stand, “congratulations on last weekend, you put a good fight.” he taps your arm gently and adds one more thing before he goes, “Mercedes is lucky to have you.”

the words perk his ears up. you can see the heat against the nape of his neck rise as he stops in his tracks and turns to face you, it’s the first time in two weeks since he’s looked you in the eyes.

you can feel all the words and air be lifted right out of you. his eyes are like title waves ready to meet land, and somehow it still makes your chest warm. he still makes your heart swell about ten sizes even if you haven’t spoken in what feels to be years.

“Mercedes?” he asks. the words feel so foreign and unfamiliar to his lips.

“well I’m not wanted at Red Bull anymore, so what’s the waste?”

he snorts out a laugh shaking his head. there you go again, he thinks to himself, trying to make him feel pitty towards you. well it certainly won’t work this time.

“well then go to Mercedes. I don’t want you as a teammate anymore if you’re just going to bail after one bad night.”

his bitterness was like a slap to the face. you can feel your heart ache, the pit of your stomach twisting as you swallow back the tears attempting to break through.

“then I don’t want you as a boyfriend anymore, because you can’t seem to apologize.”

“fine,” he says making his way to the door of the conference room, his hand rests on the handle just about to leave before he adds one more thing, “I never loved you in the first place, and I did want you gone so look at that, I guess I do win after all.”

523 notes · View notes

saintmuses · 3 months

Text

❝𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨❞

Pairing:

Neil Lewis x Best Friend!Reader

Summary:

Neil’s best friend picked up the phone to send one little risky photo to him thus having a night he would never forget.

Warning(s): Soft SMUT. Best friends to lovers. Sexting leading to FaceTiming. Neil touching himself. Mutual pining. Text conversations are in Italics. Minors, DNI! Note: In the movie they did not have iPhones yet, but pretend they did since I like the aesthetic of early 2000s in that movie!

Word Count: 1k

Neil was lying in bed, scrolling through his phone, when a text notification slid down from the top in a banner style. He opened the message, barely paying attention to the contact’s name in the notification banner while being curious about who might be reaching out to him this late at night. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Y/N’s name.

Attachment: 1 Image

His breathing hitched after he pressed on the name to reveal a photo of her in a white tank top that was tight across her breasts, showing erected nipples through the fabric. She had used a lighting setting to illuminate her breasts when taking a photo while it was dark surrounding her shoulders.

Neil paused for a moment as he stared at the photo of Y/N’s tight white tank top hugging her body beautifully. While still viewing the attachment, he could feel himself hardening underneath his pajamas.

He was now certain that she wanted his attention and was willing to cross a boundary and give him a sneak peek of what could be if she was with him.

He took a breath and decided that he should get her exactly what she wanted — his undivided attention.

Before responding he checked the time at the corner of the screen.

01:47

He typed a message into the box and sent it to her as fast as he could with his teeth biting down his bottom lip.

“So…you’re awake? I was just about to go to sleep, but something about that photo of you has me too excited to rest. Can I see more?”

Neil nearly dropped his phone when he received the second picture from her. The photo was such a tease, and it was the perfect amount of suggestive. She dragged her tank top slightly until the edge caught onto the sensitive peak, only showing him a sliver of her areola peeking out of tank top. She was giving him just a small taste of what she could give him.

Along with the message in blue chat bubble.

“Yeah…I couldn’t sleep.”

Fuck. He whined slightly at how delicious the photo was that he had to move one of his hands from his phone, sliding underneath the fabric of his pajamas and boxers to touch his dick to ease himself. His fingers rubbed against the hot flesh while his heart was practically pounding out of his chest as he responded with another text message with other hand.

“Can’t sleep…You’re just teasing me, aren’t you?”

Neil’s entire body was tingling when he received the third picture instead of a response which still is a confirmation, which made him feel like he was being driven crazy by Y/N. In the photo, she had removed her tank top and one of her bare breasts was exposed. Her other hand was grabbing the flesh, teasingly hiding her nipple from the camera. Inhaling sharply, he curled his fingers around and gripped his dick firmly before sliding up and down lazily.

Neil was breathing heavily as he typed up his next message in the box.

“Now I’m just desperate to see more.”

A bubble popped up momentarily before it disappeared, then a message appeared on the screen.

“I won’t send any more until you tell me how you feel about it, about me.”

Neil’s lips twitched nervously as he paused for a beat to breathe and focus on his thoughts. This was serious because she was playing with fire. She was asking to know what kind of thoughts Neil had for her, but this was no ordinary situation. This was something that Neil had kept hidden for a long time. They’ve known each other since they were teenagers, of course she was his long-time crush, his dream girl, and he had always wanted her, but he was…absolutely sure that she did not reciprocate the feelings.

Now it was happening in that little screen he had in his hand, the lines were already crossed since the moment she sent him a picture.

He tightened his fingers around himself, torturing himself as he groaned slightly before removing his hand since they were entering a serious subject which focused on their feelings.

“Before I continue, I want to make sure you understand that there’s no going back for either of us. I want this, and you want this.”

She responded back with a message instantly.

“Not going back is my goal.”

She was being cheeky, of that Neil could tell as he bit down his bottom lip, holding back a chuckle, but his lips curled into a soft smile before taking another deep breath and started typing.

“You make me crazy, Y/N. My hormones get the best of me whenever I see you. I’m extremely horny for you, trying so hard to hide it. I touch myself every night while dreaming of having you. I want you to be completely and utterly mine, and for that to never change. Do you understand? Do you see how crazy this is? Do you see how crazy I am for you?”

He read his message prior to sending it, sealing the fate of his own.

After a few minutes, a bubble popped up on the screen before it disappeared again leaving him in a state of anxiety, thinking he may have gone too far with what he had said because he felt like he did not hold back. However, he held his breath when the bubble popped up again before there was a message appearing on the screen.

“Do you want to FaceTime?”

Neil’s heart soared at her sudden request. He could tell it was such a tentative request, however, she clearly knew he was just as turned on as she was.

“Yes, please.” Neil typed rapidly.

Neil took another beat to compose himself when the screen reflected an upcoming FaceTime call with her contact’s name on top of it. He pressed the green icon to confirm the video call.

Neil had lost the ability to speak as the screen immediately revealed her sweet face to him, and her lips broke out into a breathtaking smile. She was gorgeous, completely, and utterly flawless. All he felt in this moment was that he needed her.

“Hi,” she giggled.

He swallowed thickly. “Hi,” Neil uttered softly, his voice breaking at the sight of her.

#neil lewis x you #neil lewis x y/n #neil lewis x reader #Neil Lewis #watching the detectives #cillian murphy x reader #neil lewis smut #cillian murphy

254 notes · View notes

jupitercomet · 7 months

Text

The Grow Apart

summary - Jake broke your heart when he left you behind. All that remained of him were the memories of when you were in love—and the phone number he never picks up. Now he's back, ready to claim his title. And you think that that's all he wants, that he's completely forgotten about everything you were together, until he tries to fight for you too. But, this time, will you finally be worth more to him than the glory?

warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, violence, language, mentions of drinking, mentions of suggestive themes, my limited knowledge of boxing, no use of y/n, Jake is 6'5" because I said so, I recommend that you read the orange butterfly before this chapter

this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 4.4k

one new voicemail masterlist

You’d never been the most tech savvy person, you know that.

You understand the basic functions of your laptop and definitely aren’t hopeless. No one would ever call you technology deficient. But your knowledge ends with the essentials.

So when you overheard one of your coworker’s talking about the way she learned to delete her voicemails, you didn’t exactly question it.

“You just have to press *67 as soon as you’re finished and it’ll delete it. It’ll make it look like you never called.”

It didn’t seem like vital information at the time, but nights later, as you were sitting on your couch slightly drunk, watching The Fox and the Hound, it suddenly became much more useful. Unable to stop yourself, you called Jake that night, leaving a brief and somewhat tearful voicemail before typing out *67 and hanging up.

Admittedly, you were a little weary of your coworker’s tip—maybe you’d watched too many TV episode plots that revolved around tracking down someone to delete a voicemail off their phone. But you woke up the next morning with no questioning text from Jake. When a week had gone by and he still hadn’t reached out, you testingly left another voicemail.

You don’t entirely know when they became such an integral part of your daily routine, almost a voice diary you found yourself using on every walk home after work. But it became a comfort, a way for you to talk through your grievances with someone you used to think cared about them. It got so lonely in San Diego, it was nice to have someone to talk to.

You could talk about whatever you needed to and then delete it, without ever having to worry about Jake answering his phone either. Back when you were still dating, you learned that Jake had two phones—only keeping his older one in case people too far back in his past to have his new number ever tried to reach him. In the entire year you’d been together, no one but a telemarketer had called it and it stayed untouched in a drawer.

So you could cling to the first man you’d ever loved, like you wanted, and Jake could forget you ever existed, like he wanted. It was a win win.

“Hi, Jake. It’s me again— I feel like I don’t have to keep introducing myself, sorry. Today was pretty good. I got a lot of tips, so I think I’m finally gonna get new shoes. Even customers started noticing, it was really embarrassing.

I see my therapist tomorrow. She wants to talk about you, which I’m kinda nervous for, but it’ll probably be good for me. She’s been really helpful actually and she’s really nice when we work though stuff… I don’t know, I like to think you’d be proud of me for that.

I’m pretty sure it’s, like, 8:30 in Texas, so you’re probably at the gym right now. Unless you’re not— Sorry, I shouldn’t assume. But, um, what else?

Oh! I saw a dog that looked like Harley today. It was walking past the window at the diner with a cute bandana and I got a little excited... I miss him. I miss—

Anyway, I’m rambling so I’ll probably hang up now, but, um, I hope you had a good day. Bye, Jake.”

Jake’s fingers tighten around his phone, his knuckles white as your voice cuts off in his headphones. He has to force himself to loosen his grip on his phone out of fear of breaking it, the old iPhone 6 was hardly durable as it is. Jake squeezes his eyes shut.

He can still hear you in his head, your quiet voice, your soft breaths. He hates it. When he goes home, he’ll screen record your message so he can keep his voicemail box empty for you.

In truth, Jake had discovered your voicemails entirely by accident. Moving back to Texas eradicated his need for his second phone since he was now close enough that any friend or family who didn’t have his new number could probably just walk to his condo if they needed something. He’d completely forgotten about the phone for months until Javy’s sister said she was looking for an older phone to give to her son as he started 8th grade.

It took him hours to find, but when he did, the last thing he was expecting was notifications for no less than 10 missed calls and voicemails. Jake was even more surprised when he realized they were all from you. He listened to every one of them, as you talked through the highlights of your day. And the lowlights. For a moment, Jake could almost pretend you were still together.

But you weren’t talking to him—you were talking to the idea of him. Because that’s all you had. That’s all he left you.

Jake must have stayed up all night playing your voicemails over and over again.

The logical part of him, the part he usually listened to, told him to forget about it. He should just put the phone back where he found it, and let you reach the voicemail limit, and never think about it again. The logical part of him told him that clearly even you didn’t want him to listen to them and why would he want to listen to him anyway? Jake Seresin doesn’t get hung up on his ex.

And Jake suddenly carrying his old phone everywhere with him and recording every voicemail so he could still listen to them while keeping his mailbox empty was Jake not being hung up on you.

He’s allowed to still think about you, to still care about you. And that didn’t mean he regretted breaking up with you. Just because he always felt lonely, and started letting Harley sleep on the bed with him which he had never allowed before, and found himself wanting to pick up your call if only just to hear your voice in real time, didn’t mean he regretted it. It didn’t mean he thought it was the stupidest decision he ever made. And it wasn’t the reason he was so ready to move back to California.

“Dude.” Javy’s voice breaks him from his reverie, and Jake turns to see his best friend giving him an unimpressed look. “You’re the one who said you wanted to go to the gym tonight.”

Jake tries to shake you from his head, sliding his old iPhone 6 discreetly into his gym bag. “Sorry. I was changing my music.”

He knows Javy doesn’t believe him, the other man just crossing his arms without a word. He has that look on his face, the one Jake sees quite frequently now, the look of wanting to step in but being hesitant to push him. Jake hates that look more than your voicemails.

“Dude… If you wanna talk about something—”

Jake rolls his eyes with a scoff.

“Don’t do that,” Javy points an accusing finger at him. “You’re doing that thing you do where you get mad at people for caring about you.”

“To get mad at you would require caring in the first place,” Jake walks away from his bag with a snippy tone.

Because Jake doesn’t care.

“I don’t know, I’d like to think you’d be proud of me for that.”

Jake doesn’t care that he is proud of you. He doesn’t care that it feels like a knife through the heart every time he realizes that he is now something you have to work through, that the pain he caused you is something you have to learn to let go of.

“I miss him. I miss—”

Jake doesn’t care that you miss him. It doesn’t rip him apart that maybe you don’t. It’s not like he has dreams where he’s with you, where he’s telling you that he’s sorry and that he loves you. He doesn’t wake up in a cold sweat, shaky fingers swiping through his phone before he plays one of your voicemails because your voice is the only thing that calms him down. He doesn’t do any of that because doing that would require him caring.

And Jake doesn’t care.

“Hey, Harley.” You give the dog a scratch behind his ears as he greets you excitedly, stubby tail thumping against your legs.

Harley prances after you as you walk further into the house, hanging up your jacket and dropping your purse on a chair like shedding those items will be enough to shake off the day. It’s not, you still feel drained, and you hope that Jake’s up for something from Charlotte’s tonight.

“Angel? That you?”

Jake’s voice drifts from the living room and you start heading in that direction. You’re mildly surprised he’s home at all, he spends most of his time at Maverick’s and you usually don’t see him until much later in the night. But it’s only 6:30 and he’s looking through his laptop as he sits on the couch.

“Sorry,” you move to sit next to him on the couch, the cushion in the middle feels like feet between you but you’re not quite courageous enough to move any closer. “I didn’t know you were home. I thought you’d be back later.”

Jake nods offhandedly, continuing to scroll through whatever is on his laptop. You hardly take offense to it, though no one would guess Jake is weirdly responsible and it’s a very real possibility he’s filing away things for your taxes or something. Instead, you pull out your phone, reveling in the quiet for a moment.

Though working at Knockouts paid the bills, it was by no means your dream job. It was loud and customers could be cruel and almost all your coworkers were looking for other work—or, at the very least, didn’t plan to stay there forever. Jake promised you that once his boxing career took off, you wouldn’t have to work there anymore. You could go back to school, and get your masters in English like you always wanted to.

That hasn’t happened yet though. And you can tell it frustrates Jake every time you come to his house exhausted or on the verge of tears that he’s still waiting for some big break to be able to provide for you. But you always try to assure him that it isn’t his job, that eventually he’ll find his footing and everything will be okay. You’ve gotten better at hiding the bad days from him.

In fairness, it seems like he has too. These past couple days he’s been scarce—more than usual—this is the first time in a long time that he’s been home before you’ve fallen asleep. You know he’s taking things more seriously at the gym, training more, winning more. He’s also going out partying with Javy a lot more too, it only stings a little that he doesn’t invite you.

It’s not like he hasn’t always been doing this, but something about this time around feels different. Like, this time, he knows something that you don’t.

“I think we should break up.”

Your phone falls from your hand and into your lap. “What?”

“I think we should break up,” Jake repeats, reaffirming that his words weren’t something you’d misheard. That they weren’t some nightmare you’re having while awake.

“I… I don’t— Why?” You swallow thickly, your chest feeling heavy as you try to understand what feels like a blindside on Jake’s part.

Jake sighs, looking up from his laptop. “Mav told me there’s a guy back in Texas that’s looking for fighters. The fighting scene isn’t as competitive there. This would be my shot.”

“You think we should break up because you want to move back to Texas?”

You don’t understand how Jake can be so nonchalant about this. Maybe he thinks you wouldn’t want to go with him? But you would. You would go with him. You weren’t loyal to San Diego. Hell, you weren’t even loyal to California. It would take you a bit of time of course, you’d have to put in your two week notice and figure out how to sell your apartment—

“It’s huge for me, you know?” Though he sounds excited, he’s looking at you with an unreadable expression. “And we really aren’t serious enough for long distance to make sense—”

Oh.

There was a part of you that was always a little wary of Jake. Of the guy you met at a bar, who called you “angel” before he called you your name. And maybe this was why. Because guys like that didn’t do serious relationships. But Jake had been loyal and yours for so long that you thought that, maybe, it was okay. Maybe it was okay to trust him. All squares are rectangles but not all rectangles are squares.

You clear your throat, biting down on your lip harshly. “Right, um, that makes sense…”

There’s a flash of something in Jake’s eyes—maybe hurt—but it’s gone before you can know for sure. “I’ve been thinking about this for a bit and I just think it makes the most sense.” He laughs suddenly, but you can’t seem to find the joy in it like you used to. “It’s not like you were planning to spend the rest of your life with some underground boxer.”

You were, but it feels childish to admit now. Like Jake was just some fantasy and you’ve reached the end to find no happily ever after. You swallow thickly.

“I mean, this is a really big opportunity for you.” You’re grateful Harley is playing in the backyard, because he’d have certainly called you out on your clear distress if he were here. “So, you should do what you think is best.”

It’s silent for a moment as Jake stares at you, and you wish he would just say something. Because you don’t know what he’s thinking and you don’t know what he wants you to say. You’ll say it, whatever it is. You don’t know what he wants from you.

Jake wets his lips. “And we— I mean… We can still be friends.”

You knew what that meant. He’d never talk to you again. You’d no longer be there for him when he just didn’t want to be alone. You’d no longer be the first person he thought of when he caught a trailer for a new movie that looked good. You wouldn’t speak to him for years and years and then suddenly, out of the blue, you’d get a pity invite to his wedding to some Russian super model and all he’d introduce you as is someone he knew from college. Because that’s the kind of “friends” exes became.

“Right,” you force a smile. This time, not even Jake could make you believe him. “I’m— I’m okay with that.”

It wasn’t until months later, when you were wine drunk watching The Fox and the Hound, that you finally admitted it out loud. “Hey, Jake. I, um, I lied. When I said I was okay with you leaving, I lied. I’m not okay. I’m really, really not okay…”

The soft scent of floral notes fill your lungs as light mist lands on your skin. You take a deep breath, looking up at the fluttering butterflies moving in the air above you. It calms you, how silent butterflies are, like they’re the only creatures that don’t intrude on your space. Silent, and soft, and beautiful.

Dr. Elsher’s words ring in your head as you walk your feet through the familiar turns of the butterfly pavilion. The two of you had been talking about Jake for the last couple sessions, working through what he meant to you and what he made you feel about yourself. It was painful, you won’t pretend that it wasn’t, but it helped. You’d even stopped leaving Jake voicemails every day.

It wasn’t a lot, you know that. But it was something. It wasn’t that you stopped loving Jake, or missing him, or wanting him, you just didn’t need him. You could live without him. Because you had other things—or, at least, you’re working on that. For now, you have butterflies.

For a moment, you think about leaving Jake a voicemail, but you shake it off. Not today. Today is about you and your happiness and the fact that you can live without Jake.

“And that’s important,” Dr. Elsher gives you a knowing look. “That you look at it as living. Up until now, you’ve been surviving. I want you to know that you can live whether or not you have Jake, or your parents, or anyone else.”

A blue butterfly flies in front of you and your shoes stop on the concrete to watch it for a moment. It lands on a peony growing near you, its wings spread to show off their iridescent shimmer. Your fingers brush against the edge of your phone case in your back pocket, but you stop yourself. Though you can’t explain it, you decide not to take a picture of the butterfly. Instead you just watch it until it flies away.

The bench you always sit at is just behind the flower bush in front of you and your shoes start moving against the concrete again. Dr. Elsher had recommended you try journaling for a bit and you figured this would be the nicest place to do it—sitting at your bench, in the quiet, surrounded by butterflies.

Your breath feels like it was ripped from your lungs when you finally move past the flower bush.

“Jake?”

The blond’s head turns at the sound of your voice, confirming his identity. He looks equally as shocked and he hops up from the bench quickly. “Hey…” He swallows.

You stare at him. He’s bigger now, muscles more toned and firm. He looks taller, if that were even possible, and you have to crane your neck a bit just to look at him. He’s still Jake though. He’s just a bigger Jake with slightly longer hair and… softer eyes. He’s Jake all the same.

“You’re, um, you’re back,” your voice is small and you wet your lips out of habit. “I thought you were in Texas.”

Jake scratches the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle. So unlike the Jake you know, he seems nervous and for a fleeting second panic fills you. Has he been getting your voicemails? “Yeah, I just moved back. It’s— It’s nice to see you though. It’s been a while, huh?”

A year and a half. That’s how long it’s been. One year, six months, and eleven days.

“Yeah.”

When you say nothing more, Jake clears his throat. “Well, I should go. I mean, I know this is your spot and— I was just—” He stops himself, his expression morphing into one that almost looks like he’s disappointed in himself. “You know what? Doesn’t matter. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.”

With a strained smile, Jake brushes past you, heading towards the exit as he runs a hand through his hair. He seems anxious, fidgeting with himself as he leaves. You can’t stop staring at him.

Jake doesn’t spare you another glance before he’s gone.

Jake feels like he’s going to get a headache from how loud the music is, the flashing lights making his eyes squint. California feels different compared to Texas, but not by much. Alcohol is still alcohol after all.

Not that Jake’s having that good of a time due to that fact. The amount of bodies packed into this club has him more irritated than anything and even the alarming amount of shots he’s been taking doesn’t seem to help. He’s just annoyed. Javy’s been pushing him in the gym, critiquing every mistake and making him practice punch combinations again, and again, and again. And there’s no reason for it either because, while Jake thought he was just competing with Rooster for good fights, he came to learn that some other up-and-comer has carved out his place in Mav’s lineup and now Jake has to sit back and watch the Grim Reaper take fights that should’ve been his.

It feels like the beginning of his career all over again, except this time he knows he deserves better fights. He’s stronger now, he knows how to put on a show, and if he just stayed in Texas he could be fighting whoever he wanted. If he just stayed in Texas a lot of things would be simpler.

Throwing back one final shot, Jake gets up. At this point, he might as well stop moping around and do something that’s actually going to make him feel better. There’s a buzz in his head that has the ability to take his mind off things if he focuses on it and what looks to be a bachelorette party has just made its way to the dance floor. Despite how in his own head he’s been, he isn’t stupid enough to remain oblivious to the redhead that’s been eyeing him since she got here.

With confident strides, he makes his way over to where she’s dancing with a few friends, gaze locked on the carefree swaying of her hips. She moves to make another glance at him, but she seems to have not realized that he’s already spotted her as her eyes widen slightly when she sees he’s coming closer. Whispering something quickly to her friends, she pulls herself away from the group.

Jake watches the way her chest rises and falls, taking in oxygen deeply with how much she’s been dancing. Sweat pools at the dips in her collarbones—something Jake can see because of her low cut top—making her skin look like it’s shimmering under the neon lights. She looks up at him through long, innocent lashes, biting her lip shyly.

Like it always is, the way he speaks to her is a blur. He says something to make her giggle and she steps closer to him under the guise of wanting to hear him better. She tells him her name and he forgets it and he pretends to be interested in what she’s doing in the city. One thing leads to another and then she’s grabbing his hand, leading him away with that same giggle, and then he’s pressing her against the wall in some dark hall before he inevitably takes her home like he always does.

Jake ignores the somewhat queasy feeling in his stomach, chalking it up to one too many shots, and lets his hands fall to her hips. Her head tilts up just slightly, an invitation to kiss her, and Jake can see the pink lip gloss that’s reflecting off her parted lips.

The lights from the club travel over them occasionally, illuminating the scene enough for Jake to catch details about this woman, like the freckles peppering her shoulders and the glitter she’s smeared on her eyelids. But Jake never usually takes the time to notice these things, not when they truly and utterly don’t matter, he hardly ever gets with these women just to look at them.

When he finally dips down to kiss her, the lights pass over them again, right before her eyes can fully flutter closed. Jake jerks his head back.

“What?”

Jake knows the woman is looking at him in confusion, but he can’t bring himself to care. Instead he shoves his palms into his eyes, trying to erase the clear effects of alcohol he’s experiencing like he’s trying to wake up from a dream. Because this woman doesn’t have your eyes.

He sucks in a shaky breath, letting his hands fall. The lights pass over them again. The woman looks heavy with concern. But she has your eyes and your perfect nose and Jake feels like he’s going crazy because she’s not you.

She’s not you.

And he was going to kiss her.

Jake feels sick. He takes a step back from the woman, eyes darting all over the club as he tries to collect his thoughts. He knows that running into you had thrown him, he hadn’t been expecting to see you, not so soon and not when he still didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t been expecting to be so grateful though, like seeing you suddenly made everything feel right again, like he didn’t know how much he needed it until it finally happened.

He saw you at the butterfly pavilion and had to stop his heart from skipping beats because he had never truly realized just how right he’d been when you were together. You are an angel.

And Jake always thought poetry was stupid, but now he wishes he paid more attention when excitedly you spoke to him about your literature classes in college because no words seem sufficient to describe what it felt like to lay eyes on you again. Beautiful didn’t even hold a candle—ethereal maybe? He felt like a lovesick idiot.

And here he is trying to kiss another girl that isn’t you.

“Are you okay?” A delicate hand weighs down on his shoulder but it feels like it’s 1000 pounds.

Jake flinches away from the woman’s grip, only able to shake his head. The alcohol is catching up to him now, as is the realization that this entire time he’s been doing everything he can to forget you and he’s finally reached his limit. He can’t forget you because he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to find women that only like the idea of him and who he only likes the idea of too. He only ever wanted them because he can’t have you.

“I have to go.” Jake says finally. He doesn’t want this. “I have to— I should go.”

He’s walking away before the woman can even say anything, shouldering his way past people to get out of the stuffy club. His ears are ringing and it feels like all he can see are flashes of you. Jake knows that he should go home, sleep off the alcohol and the memory of you so guarded at the butterfly pavilion. At the very least, he should call Javy so that he isn’t alone

Instead he stumbles his way to Mav’s with the plan to hit a punching bag until he physically can’t anymore.

join my Jake Seresin taglist here or follow my library @jupitercometgold

Jake taglist: @dempy @cottagecori @avengersgirllorianna @under-the-seas @auroraacrane @olivia21blunt @dreamlandcreations @blue-aconite @averyhotchner @sgt-barnesveins @lillunna @mayhemmanaged @appledressing @bradswolfe @lynnevanss @babyyy2020 @thekebs @deliriousfangirl61 @callsign-cacti @yoonbutterfly @liliana234567 @uniquedreamlandcheesecake @kmc1989 @redbarn1995 @wishingwell-2 @justenoughmadness @petemitchells @hookslove1592 @pietrothemovie @tiredqueen73

#jake seresin imagine #jake seresin imagines #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin au #hangman imagine #hangman imagines #hangman x reader #hangman fluff #hangman angst #hangman au #top gun maverick imagines #x reader #one new voicemail #under the hard deck #buggy's got a pen

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carrrrino · 6 months

Note

HELLO I am very excited for this project! I wanted to express a concern though…it’s rather hard to find the any info on the project aside from what’s on the blog (which isn’t…very much information wise) I’m not sure if that’s an intentional decision…

I know when I first found the info I….kind of didn’t believe this?? That sounds odd. I suppose what I mean is, it didn’t seem the most legit. I did digging through the blog, read all the links, searched for a Twitter and YouTube accounts and had a hard time doing that as well…Simply because there is very little information on it. Which there’s nothing wrong with…I was wanting to suggest (as an outsider) that you and your team put more announcements/ marketing into this…?

I REALLY hope to see this project grow, it’s absolutely deserved, and very few people seem to know about it. I’d hate that to be something people miss out on. I don’t really expect an answer on this but I thought I should share the concern as an outside perspective. 💛

I really hope this project is going well for you and that it gets the deserved recognition as it’s coming out!!! So excited!!!

I'm so happy that people share the same excitement and concern for the series. Also, the fact that you guys think it's worthy of success Is truly inspiring! I think it's time I SAY something though about my current situation.

TL;DR - Our team basically went inactive after the summer; everyone returned to their lives and I'm the only one who can keep up with the project unconditionally. I didn't mean to dishearten you guys! It's a pain in the ass to work alone - excluding voice actors and SFX producers. The OUTBREAK blog will change entirely, it will be used for info and marketing. This blog will just be general art created by me (&no-namestuff). I will continue to work on the series independently, but I'll definitely give out more info as requested and make things more legit whenever I can!

Over the summer, a group of us began working on the project together, but as most of my friends returned to school and their regular lives, it became almost impossible to keep going. Currently, only a few are available to help, but they're too busy.

I didn't want to worry anyone by saying that it's basically just me working on the project; it's tough to balance animating, scripting, marketing, planning, publishing, AND funding by myself. Over time it (advertising and insightful communication) just became indifferent to me, I even considered going silent for a while until I had a mother-load of progress, but that's really not fair.

The project was a bit of a mess when we started. We didn't plan on making it a big deal, my animations were half-assed and incomprehensible; I barely knew how to work Adobe and could barely even pay it off, the sound was going to be recorded via iPhone, the script wasn't even halfway done, and voice actors weren't thought of until the Prologue. After more than six months of work, Verse 1-4 (or 6?) was deleted because of issues with the file.. this really drew the line for everyone.

So here I am, despite everything; I revised the script, which is barely halfway done, redesigned the characters, read more into the multiversal conundrums of AUs and UNDERTALE, built a portfolio, studied poses for the action scenes — and there’s still a lot that I have to learn. I'm working on Q&As, asks, and the teaser / test / project animations. I don't want people to be confused or hesitant, so I appreciate you a lot for reminding me of this. As requested, I will provide additional details about the project too :) !

No-Name's theme is in progress (thanks to Synth Mints), I've invested heavily in software for good quality animations, talented voice actors from this fandom (some you might even know) have agreed to voice for me - I'm extremely grateful for their help. Even if it takes years to release an episode or pilot, I'm still excited about the outcome. Who knows, I might even have a genuine team by then! :D

aw geez sorry for the whole bit-life story, I'm just trying to shed some light on the situation for you all. I do care, I want everyone to know that, it's just hard work.

Until the next teaser animation, please have these lil' pieces of teasers / lore as an apology!

SD by @/galacii ERROR by @/loverofpiggies / CrayonQueen

LASTLY today is my birthday yayyy 🥳🎂

#wish me luck #next anim is way longer than 5 seconds #I hope this sums things up #outbreak #shattered dream sans #no name sans

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accio-victuuri · 7 months

Text

CPN : Why the Camera 📸 is driving us mad 🫶🏼

sometimes i forget that not everyone will get the reason why a certain number of cpfs are screaming about something. or if they do, is it because of only the present candy or is there a history behind it. this is something i find hard to gauge and i usually just post very quickly in hopes that people get it. most of the time i have a post about that “history” and link it but for this one i did share some bits but not enough to connect the dots.

that’s the purpose of this post, to hopefully connect events and make sense of the story.

Let’s start with the whole “LEICA” story and why we think it’s a gift to match ZZ’s. Back in April, there was a whole CPN about an alleged camera that was good for vlogging given by WYB to ZZ to take to Milan. It’s a Sony camera, but the point is, WYB gave ZZ a camera to take to his trip abroad in Europe. Now it’s ZZ who is allegedly giving him a camera ( Leica ) to take with him to Paris. Both are big events related to Fashion week and while they cannot be together, giving each other a proper camera is a way to to be connected. It’s an incentive for them to take photos and share with each other after. Apparently, taking photos from their iphones or their team’s camera ( take note, WYB was with someone holding a proper camera with a big ass lens too ) is not enough. They should have their own.

The reason why this made us all 👀 was we were already speculating that WYB had a new camera back in Mid Autumn Festival.

This is personally why I was screaming cause the clowning is correct. Even before we saw WYB in the streets of Paris using the actual Leica camera, turtles were already guessing he didn’t take the Moon photo with a camera phone. Based on the quality, dimensions and size of the file. All the more how accurate the kind of camera is.

( excuse the auto translate but you all get the point, it’s leica — a proper camera, not a phone. this was posted 9/29/2023. )

Also Yibo-official added fuel to this because instead of reposting and giving the same greeting like they usually do, they praised Photographer WYB. 📸

This was out of the ordinary, it’s like they know something. Turns out, they do. WYB has a new camera that he is playing with ^^

ZZ has a leica camera. This should not come as a surprise knowing part of his job before is being a photographer.

( for reference some of XZ’s known camera/s. the ones used in commercials tho, not sure if it’s his. )

ZZ is Leica Q2 ( spotted as early as 2019 ) and WYB is Leica M11. It’s so freakin expensive. WYB is many things but he is not exactly a photographer. Yes, he takes photos for his personal documentation and shares it to friends. Sometimes, he shares to the public, but I don’t think an amateur will buy something like this. He may be rich and the cost of this is virtually nothing to him, but I personally feel like if you’re starting out, you wouldn’t choose this. All the more buy it as “i-need-a-camera-cause-i’m-going-to-paris” purchase.

The CPN is, ZZ, who knows his way with cameras/photography and only wants what’s best for the love of his life —- gives him this, and what better time to play with it than a trip abroad. The Moon photo is him testing it out, and maybe he already has other photos that he just doesn’t share.

This is actually on brand for this couple. Matching Gucci lion head necklace? Check. Matching Shoes? Check. Matching clothes? Check. Matching phone case? Check. Matching Apple watch? Check. So this Couple Camera is part of a pattern and makes sense 🤍

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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tpwkwriter · 7 months

Note

i adore your writing could i request something pls? could you do the different calls h and reader have? lik sometimes harry will only call her bc he misses her voice all the calls they share pls

Too cute 😖 made this into a wee headcannon<3

Warnings: none!

——————————“oh honey”——————————

Anyone who knew the couple knew they couldn’t possibly go a day without contact or seeing each others faces.

If Harry was away on tour or press, or y/n was away with family or away on a girls weekend sometime between that time there would 100% be a FaceTime or phone call.

“I Miss you”

These kind of calls were normally during the late evening, where everyone’s jobs were done for the day but they were still separated and craves that togetherness feel.

“I miss you, miss you soooooo much” Harry sang into his iPhone.

“Miss you more H” she smiled.

These calls always contained questions and conversations about each others day, and even if y/n was too tired to talk she was never too tired to listen to H speak about his day.

“What are you up too?”

These calls were sometimes quiet random and unexpected and were often when one of them was at home and the other was on there way back, for some reason it worked like that.

“Babeee?” Harry hummed, placing his phone on the stand on the dashboard of one his cars.

“Mmhmm” y/n replied propping her phone against a candle on the coffee table.

“What ya doinggggg?” He said putting his car into ignition and getting ready to head home.

“M’finding a movie for us to watch later tonight” she answered glancing down to watch him.

Harry claimed these types of calls were because he was just ‘nosey’ but in reality he just liked hearing her voice and seeing what she was up to.

“Just checking up”

Harry’s protective and caring nature was always looking out for signs and symptoms of his girl, he could read her easy hence why his care intensified at times.

“Hello Harry” she said lowly bringing her phone to her ear.

“Hello beautiful, you okay?” He asked.

“Mmhmm just tired”

“M’kay, haven’t heard much from ya” he started.

“Which is fine love, but I’ll be home in about 15 minutes and I’ll get us dinner alright?” He reassured.

“Okay love, thank you I love you” she smiled, feeling relieved he couldn’t see her crimson cheeks.

“S’my job love, and I love you”

“Come get me!”

Being the designated driver was always a challenging journey from dropping them off, to waiting for there call in the early morning hours, both of the couple took there job seriously and always knew what to do.

The clock was reaching 2:30am and still no sign of Harry, it had been a gruelling couple of hours, y/n tried various things to distract herself from the fact her boyfriend is out surrounding by gos knows how many people.

It wasn’t him she didn’t trust it was others she didn’t, his status didn’t help, the idea of him being so vulnerable without her made y/n’s stomach turn.

A familiar ringtone filled her ears, finally.

It was Harry.

“Heeeey Beautifullllll, I wanna want to come home now, I wanna be in the warm with youuuu” he slurred over the phone.

“Oh Harry, I’m on my way, stay exactly where you are okay I’m on my way I love you”

——————————————————————————

Quite a shorty but I hope it’s still okay🩷

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles headers #harry styles headcannons #fluff #angst #smut #tpwkwriter #thanks anon #thank you 🩷

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superhero--imagines · 1 year

Text

A/N: I’m a simp, so here’s a whole series.

“Your dad finally cut you off, huh?” The bell sings its final note before the door thumps close behind you. Xavier’s mouth quirks up in a lopsided smile when his eyes meet yours. “It was those three new iPhones your ordered wasn’t it? He could justify one, but three?” Xavier huffs a dry chuckle, leaning forward on the counter to meet your gaze.

“Did you want a coffee or did you just come here to make jokes?”

Truthfully, you came to make sure he was doing okay at his assignment at the Weathervane for outreach day. Not that you would ever admit it though.

“I mostly came here to shoot the shit with you, but I’ll take a latte if you’re offering.” You pause for a second, head tilting. “You know how to make a latte right?”

“Screw you.” The words are said jovially with a hearty laugh as he retreats to the espresso machine. “Hot or iced?”

“Iced please.”

“Good, because I actually don’t know how to use the steamer on this thing.” You laugh.

“What have you been telling people when they order, like, macchiatos or something.”

He gives you the cheekiest smile. “I tell them the machine’s broken, and all we have is drip or iced.” You have to cover your mouth to muffle the sound of your giggles.

“And none of the other employees have thought to correct this behavior?” He shrugs, pouring ice into a mason jar.

“I’m the only one here.”

That’s a little fucked. It’s one thing to have to work all day with your assaulter, and an entirely other thing to be ostracized.

Your mouth opens, the words: ‘Do you have another apron?’ On the tip of your tongue. Because screw these people, the mayor’s office and their paper can get fucked, you’re not leaving him here alone.

“Do you want the Horchata milk?”

The words slide down your throat until they’re swallowed whole.

“What?” Now it’s his turn to look confused.

“Are you off of dairy? I think we have oat milk too but, it’s a little old—"

“No, they have horchata milk here?”

“You didn’t know?” You shake your head. “Do you want to try it?” You nod.

You take a tentative sip. Eyebrows shooting up as you flash you friend a knowing look. He grins back.

“It’s good right?” It’s the best thing you’ve ever had. Even if the whole milk is going to upset your stomach later. While you’re contemplating about how this has been here the entire time, the mason jar is presented to you—cinnamon and sugar dusted on top, and a straw lovingly placed in the corner.

“Wow.” You meet his proud gaze. “Coffee made by the Xavier Thorpe, I feel like I should take a picture to commemorate the moment or something.”

Maybe it’s enough to just stay with him like this.

You take a sip of your latte, swallowing hard.

“Hey Xavier, how much espresso did you put in this?” He’s cleaning up behind the counter.

“I don’t know like eight shots…that’s normal right?”

You know what, maybe Xavier Thorpe is perfectly capable of exacting his own revenge.

“Yup, tastes great.” Fingers lace around the jar, maybe you can dilute this when he’s not looking. “So do you give free samples to everyone, or am I a special case?”

“Only for you.” He promises, lips quirking up.

#Xavier Thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe x y/n #Xavier Thorpe imagine #wednesday imagine #Wednesday

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illiterateaffairs · 9 months

Text

behind the scenes chapter one | i enjoyed our meet cute

masterlist | next

pairing: jamie tartt x actress!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 4,722

summary: you’ve been in richmond one day and you’re already having chance encounters with famous british football players, what are the odds?

a/n: welcome to the first chapter of my new jamie series, behind the scenes! fake dating is a god tier trope and i’ve always wanted to write something for it. it will also be very rom-com-y, just like ted would like. i really hope you enjoy the first chapter, i’m so excited to kick off this new story and can’t wait to hear your thoughts. also wanted to shout out @buckychristwrites who wrote an incredible fake dating jamie series called could this be and you should totally check it out if you haven’t already ♡

Your alarm goes off at 8AM on the dot but you’re already wide awake. You’ve been in London for 48 hours and instead of taking in the sights, you’ve been trying to reset your sleep schedule. After landing at 10AM Friday morning, you pretty much passed right out as soon as you arrived at your rented, two story brownstone.

See, London was eight hours ahead of Los Angeles - your home base. While you were used to traveling for work, you’d never had a job in another country before. And jet lag was a bitch.

You’re an actor. You have been since you were 15, when you got a recurring role on a kids show after an opening casting call. Some called it luck, but you called it busting your ass in theater classes as soon as your mom could afford them. You’d been a “drama queen” since you were in diapers and you begged her to sign you up for every class, camp and play in your small town and she did everything she could to support your dream. She’s your biggest fan.

By the time you were 20, you’d had a sitcom and several supporting roles in films that made you an underrated fan favorite. Your biggest break came, though, when you were 22 and were given the opportunity to star opposite A-list actors in the superhero film of the summer. After that you blew up, you did a few more action movies and a couple other dramas.

Now, freshly 25, with a lot of credits filling your IMDb page, there was one genre you still hadn’t tackled: romance. And that’s what brought you to London. You were filming your first romantic comedy in the beautiful town of Richmond. Usually when your job brought you to a new place, the first thing you wanted to do was explore it. However, spending the last couple days in and out of sleep was preventing you from doing so. Today was Sunday, your last day before production kicked off tomorrow, and you’d be damned if you didn’t get the chance to get out and do something before you were swamped with work.

You get ready quickly, eager to not waste another second inside. However, just as you swing your front door open, you come face to face with your assistant, who’s hand is poised to knock.

“Oh, good, you’re already up,” she chirps, brushing past you and into your temporary home as she taps away on her iPhone.

“Margot, I thought we agreed on no work this weekend,” you sigh, reluctantly following her into your living room.

“I agreed and you agreed, but Harry on the other hand,” she frowns holding up her phone, “He didn’t agree.”

You groan. Harry was your publicist. You’ve worked with him since getting the role in one of the Spiderman movies. He always had some crazy idea how to boost your public image, most of which you’ve shot down, but his most recent pitch he hasn’t been able to let go of.

“He’s still bugging you about that shit?” you question, flopping down in an armchair.

Margot perches on the arm of the sofa, “He’s only bugging me because you keep ignoring him. He still thinks it's a good idea.”

The good idea in question was agreeing to a fake relationship with another celebrity - or anyone really. Usually the goal of a PR relationship was to gain attention for one or both parties, or their upcoming projects. While that wouldn’t hurt, your publicist thought the benefit of having a fake boyfriend was that you’d appear more desirable.

In your previous roles, you’d been typecast as the funny best friend or snarky sidekick. Not only was this movie you were about to film your first as the leading lady, it was the first where you were playing a romantic lead. You also haven’t been known to be seen with many suitors in your personal life as well. Not that you hadn’t had any significant others since entering the spotlight, but they’d been short lived and you tried to keep those relationships under the radar, not necessarily wanting the public’s opinion on your dating life.

Of course, that didn’t stop journalists and people with Twitter accounts from speaking on it anyway. Since you got cast in this Rom-Com - Hopeless Romantics was the working title - you’d been subjected to criticism over how you couldn’t possibly be seen as a realistic love interest when you’ve yet to be painted as such both on and off the screen. Though, you’d love to point out that just because you hadn’t played a romantically driven character before didn’t mean you couldn’t now. You’ve learned to just ignore trolls like that.

That didn’t mean from time to time the odd comment didn’t get under your skin.

Still, you didn’t see the point in faking a relationship just to get these people off your back. You had the best fans in the world, who’d watch you do anything no matter the genre. And your co-star was Charlie Knox, who’d been pegged as this generation's Hugh Grant, so plenty of people would be buying tickets regardless. You could hardly argue, feeling flushed after your chemistry reed with the actor even though he was doing just that; acting. Harry had even previously suggested faking a relationship with him, which would be the perfect scenario according to him, but Charlie was of course already taken.

“He’s going to have to give up eventually,” you shake your head, “Because I’m not doing it.” Margot makes a weird face and you tilt your head, “Don’t tell me you think I should do it.”

“No, of course not. You should have the autonomy to make your own decisions about your love life, real or fake,” she insists, “I just wish Harry didn’t make such a big deal about it.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry he’s bugging you about it. I can talk to him again.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Margot sighs, “You should be enjoying your day off. Were you on your way out before? What were you thinking of doing?”

You shrug, not really having had a game plan, “I was thinking breakfast or something to start, and then seeing where the day takes me.”

She nods, once again tapping on her phone, “That sounds nice. Don’t be out too late, though. A car will be here to get you at 6AM for the read through.” As she stands up and starts walking to your door, she glances at you, “And wear a hat please. Last thing we need is you to be stampeded by fans like in The Lion King.”

“Margot, I love you, but there is no need to bring Mufasa into this,” you tease, “I promise I will be discreet, but only if you promise me you will also take time for yourself today.”

“I promise,” she says with a small smile, but before you know it, she's already back on the phone and out your door.

You can’t be too hard on her. You were also known to prioritize your work over everything else most days. But she was not only the best assistant you could ask for, she was also one of your closest friends, and she deserved some time off. You’d have to talk to Harry at some point tomorrow to get him off her back. And yours.

But first, food.

It had been one month - one fucking month - since Keeley had gotten back together with Roy. And it was the worst month of Jamie’s life.

Yes, he still has feelings for Keeley. Yes, it hurt him to see her choose Roy, even if it had nothing to do with him. And it was twice as bad that Roy and him had finally started becoming actual friends after all these years. But that wasn’t really the problem.

It was the way everyone has been looking at him since it happened.

It started with the apologetic look on Keeley’s face that greeted him when he answered the door one summer morning. Before she could get a word out, he knew what she was going to say. In fact, he’d seen it coming. Despite Keeley insisting she wasn’t choosing between him and the grumpy old fart who was now his head coach, the two had been spending more and more time together. Keeley was around the club more and Roy was less grumpy. That morning, Keeley told him she wanted him to hear it from her that they were thinking of starting things again. His stomach twisted, disappointed that he’d practically lost her for the second time. But, God, the look of sympathy she was giving him felt even worse.

That was nothing compared to the way Roy looked at him when he walked into the locker room later that day. Roy wasn’t one to talk about or express his feelings, but he still managed to somehow convey his guilt and apology through a single look. Jamie just shook his head, eager to not speak a single word about the topic and move on. For the first time he wished Roy would just yell at him like he usually did.

Then a week later, Roy and Keeley were publicly a couple again. The rest of the team and staff were elated, but the few who’d known Jamie had been pining for the bubbly blonde again looked on at him sympathetically, patting him on the back and muttering affirmations on the way to training. In the grand scheme of things, they were just being nice, but he fucking hated it.

He was Jamie Fucking Tartt. He could be with anyone he wanted. Sure, the only girl who’s liked him for him and the only one he’s truly loved would rather be with someone else; someone else who was one of his best friends now. So what? The last thing he wanted was everyone around him treating him like a wounded puppy. He was fine.

It didn’t help that he saw Keeley and Roy all the time. At work. At team celebrations. At friendly gatherings. They were everywhere. In fact, they went the extra mile to include him in things to make him feel better, though it had the opposite effect. He felt like a charity case. He didn’t need them babysitting him, like he couldn’t spend a single night alone without collapsing into a full mental breakdown.

To be fair, the last time he’d had a night to himself, he’d made the mistake of turning on The Notebook for the first time out of morbid curiosity and he wept for an hour. But it was The Notebook for fuck’s sake, what else was he going to do?

Things improved little by little as the weeks had gone by. Sam and Colin stopped giving him glances everytime Keeley visited the locker room to drop something off for Roy. Keeley stopped looking at him with guilt riddled eyes, but there was still a weird energy between them when they hung out. And with Roy things felt mostly normal.

At least he thought so, but this morning Jamie’s been wandering around his house aimlessly waiting for Roy to show up for their regular early morning training. He’d been ready at promptly 4AM but there was no sign of his coach. He waited thirty minutes before calling but no answer. So, he plopped on the couch and watched some cooking show for another hour or so before trying again. It wasn’t until 8AM - four hours later - he got a call back from Roy.

“Hey, I thought old people were usually up early,” Jamie teased upon answering, “Did you oversleep, grandad?”

Instead of Roy’s gravelly voice responding, he hears another familiar voice in the background, “Is that Jamie? Tell him I’m sorry.”

Keeley.

Jamie’s stomach twists. Of course.

“Uh, yeah,” Roy’s voice eventually says, “Keeley was here and I forgot to set an alarm. We were going to get breakfast but then we can meet at the park if you still want?”

Roy grunts as Keeley speaks up again, voice distant, “Oi, ask if he wants to join us.”

Roy sighs into the phone, “Yeah, unless you want to come to breakfast with us?”

Jamie closes his eyes. Another pity invite. “Um, thanks mate. That’s alright, though. Think I’ll get some running in on my own and maybe we can meet up later tonight.”

“Yeah, that works…” Roy says before tacking on, “Sorry, Jamie.”

Jamie chuckles humorlessly, “Not a problem. Talk to ya later.”

He hangs up and tosses his phone across the couch. Not only did Jamie not like feeling like a third wheel, he didn’t like being one because the other two felt guilty. Especially when he was still getting over his feelings for one of them. He groans, forcing himself off the couch, eager to stay true to his word. He needed to run off these feelings.

You’d been leisurely walking through the streets of Richmond for a little while, enjoying the early fall breeze and the sights as the leaves started to change color. You’ve been trying to keep an eye out for a place to grab breakfast or a snack, but you’ve been distracted by the shops and the people walking around you. For your part, you were donned in sunglasses with a ball cap tilted low on your head. So far no one has stopped you, which was nice. Not that you minded meeting the occasional fan. Most were sweet and you adored connecting with people face to face, but there was always the risk of someone just in search of an autograph or selfie despite not caring about you or your work, not to mention nosy paparazzi who pop out of nowhere to get a photo. So, you’re enjoying the semblance of normalcy while you can. You sense that once filming starts, those in the area will be eager to catch a glimpse of you and your costars any chance they get.

You’re a little too comfortable with flying under the radar, when as you’re turning a street corner someone runs right smack into you. You both fall to the ground, your sunglasses flying clear off your face. Your heart hammers in your chest, wondering if someone had done this on purpose, but the stranger next to you also appears to be scrambling.

“Fuck, sorry,” they mutter, grabbing your discarded sunglasses for you before pulling you both up. As he places the glasses back in your hands, his eyes meet yours for the first time, “Oh shit, are you…”

You smile sheepishly, his eyes alight with recognition. You’re still a little anxious from the encounter, as you try to get your breathing to return to normal. You vaguely wonder if this guy is going to ask for a picture or something, when you actually hear the familiar click of a camera and your blood runs cold.

“Hey Jamie Tartt!” an accented man calls, “Who’s the girl, Jamie?

The man in front of you looks back at you with wide eyes and grabs your hand, “Shit, come with me.”

You can barely process what he’d said as he pulled you down the street, “What? Where are we going?”

“Somewhere private,” he explains as you continue jogging alongside him, “Where there’s one paparazzi, ten will follow. But I’m sure you know that.”

You can’t argue with him. But you do wonder who the hell this guy is that he’s so familiar with paparazzi. You also briefly consider if following a guy you’ve never met through alleyways is a smart decision, but you hardly have the time to dwell on it.

After a few minutes, this mystery guy, who you can only presume is named Jamie if the paparazzi was right, leads you through an unassuming storefront that ends up being a charming and quaint little café. You look around curiously. It’s not completely vacant, but the patrons don’t bat an eye when the two of you enter. The middle aged barista behind the counter looks at your companion with a warm smile and greets him, once again, by Jamie.

After your heart rate returns to normal, you turn to the man beside you. He gives you a tiny shrug, “I come here when I don’t want to be bothered. Not many people know about this place but it has the best scones in Richmond.”

You squint at him in curiosity, “So, I’m guessing you’re…someone of note then, too? If that paparazzi was taking your picture and you have a secret hideout.”

He chuckles, looking a little bashful, which you have a feeling is out of character for this guy, “Uh, yeah, I’m Jamie Tartt? Premier League footballer for AFC Richmond?”

Your cheeks heat up, “Oh, uh, sorry, I’m not really familiar with…”

He cuts you off, “No need to apologize. Wouldn’t expect an actress from the states to know anything about English football.”

You chuckle, despite yourself, “Well, if it helps I don’t know much about American football either. Or any sport for that matter.”

Jamie’s lips quirk up again, “I know you, though. From that thing.”

You snort, “Well, I’ve done a couple of things.”

He shakes his head, “No, no, no, you’re in that one movie, what’s it called,” he snaps his fingers, “Meet Me in Melrose, that's the one!”

“Wow, that’s a deep cut,” you comment, the film being an indie you worked on years ago; one of your first bigger roles despite the lower budget project.

“Yeah, my old coach? It was one of his favorites, so the whole team became obsessed. We’ve watched a bunch of your stuff,” he explains.

“That’s cool,” you nod with a small smile.

He nods along with you before suddenly becoming very aware of his situation, “Uh, can I order you something? Or, shit, you probably had somewhere to be. I usually try to wait things out for a while here, but if you have to go…”

You once again consider the oddity of casually hanging out in a cafe with a man you just met, but he seems trustworthy enough. And even a bit intriguing.

So you respond, “No, I don’t. I was just out exploring before. I was actually looking for a place to eat so this is perfect. I’m happy to hang out here for a bit.”

“Okay, cool,” Jamie nods again, still feeling a bit unsure of what to do when a Hollywood movie star is suddenly in your midst, “Uh, do you like coffee? Tea?”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to buy anything for me.”

“Well, I was the one who crashed into you and abducted you here so it’s the least I can do.”

You giggle, “Okay fine, I’ll take a hot chocolate. Coffee makes me anxious and tea tastes like a worse version of water. No offense.”

Jamie laughs to himself before walking up to the counter to order for you both. He returns moments later with a hot chocolate for you and coffee for him, as well as two of those scones he mentioned, before leading you over to a small booth in the back of the cafe.

“So, uh, you must come here often if the staff knows your name,” you say as you blow on your drink for it to cool, “Unless they’re all soccer - sorry - football fans?”

“Actually, Olive, the owner of the café doesn’t know shit about football. It's part of the appeal,” he tells you, “I manage to avoid photographers most of the time, but even if they’re not hounding me, I still like to come here to get away from things.”

“That makes sense. I feel like it's hard to do that in LA. Even the small businesses are overrun with influencers trying to find the trendiest spot nowadays,” you muse.

“Is that where you live? LA?” he asks.

“Mhm. Have you been?”

“Nah. Been to New York before, but spent most of my time in some clubs,” he tells you, “Have you been to London before?”

“No, actually,” you admit, “I’ve always wanted to come but never got around to it. I’m actually here for a film.”

“Oh, yeah, a Rom-Com, right?” he asks and you nod, “It’s all anyone can talk about around the club these days. We’ve never had a big movie shoot in Richmond before.”

“Hmm, wait til everyone hears how you kidnapped one of the stars,” you joke, finally braving a sip of your drink.

Jamie laughs, “I think I’ll keep that one to myself. Plus, I don’t think they’d even believe me.”

You laugh along with him, thoroughly enjoying his company as well as the delicious cocoa. You also finally try the scone Jamie placed in front of you. Your eyes light up after the first bite.

“Is that blueberry?”

Jamie’s eyes widened, “Sorry, I should have asked…”

You furiously shake your head, “No, no, don’t apologize. I love blueberry.”

Jamie’s lips quirk up, “Me, too. It’s my favorite.”

You smile back, but it drops when you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. Pulling it out, you see that you had a missed call from Harry along with a few text messages. Instead of responding, you roll your eyes and put it away, eager to forget that the man exists until tomorrow.

“Uh, everything okay?” Jamie asks tentatively.

“Oh, yeah,” you reassure, plastering another smile on your face. Then you find a part of yourself that desperately wants to vent about your situation to an unbiased party, “Actually, uh, I’m not sure how much pressure football players are under for their image, but have you ever been asked or been in a fake relationship for PR?”

Jamie leans back, processing the question, “Uh, no. I haven’t really had a problem finding my own girlfriends.”

You snort, “Of course.”

“But I’ve heard of it happening with other footballers,” Jamie adds, “And there was this whole reality dating show I did and none of that was real.”

You gasp, “You were on a dating show?”

Jamie nods reluctantly, “Yeah. It was called Lust Conquers All. It was a low point.”

You can’t help but laugh, “Wow, I’ll have to check it out.”

“Please don’t,” Jamie groans, rubbing a hand over his face, wondering what possessed him to even bring it up.

After your laughter quells, Jamie eyes you curiously, “Why do you ask? About PR relationships, I mean.”

You sigh, looking down at your hands in your lap as you answer, “My publicist wants me to do the whole fake relationship thing.”

Jamie’s eyebrows furrow, “Why?”

You shrug, not eager to admit but still wanting to know his take nonetheless, “Apparently, I don’t seem like a romantic person, because I haven’t done a romantic role or publicly dated someone before.”

Jamie continues to look confused, “So? Isn’t that what actors do? Play new roles even if they haven’t done it before?”

“Yes, thank you,” you agree, nodding furiously, “But since I’ve only played cynical or sarcastic characters, that’s how people see me. Apparently, I don’t seem like a good choice for a movie called Hopeless Romantics.”

“But you’re not like your other characters in real life right?” he asks, “You’re not completely cynical about romance.”

You falter, your eyes flitting away from his. Jamie scoffs.

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’re anti-romance.”

“I’m not,” you sputter, “I just think dating is a little more complicated than the movies make it seem.”

Jamie doesn’t listen, “Wow, I can see why your publicist thinks you need a fake boyfriend for this to be a little more realistic. You can’t be against love and in a movie about love.”

You gasp, lightly shoving him, “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m not against love. It’s just…hard to come by for me.” You sigh, trying to figure out what exactly you’re willing to admit, “The last few guys I’ve dated weren't so great. They either only wanted to date me for the exposure or connections or money.”

Jamie’s expression sobers, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “My last relationship, if you could even call it that, was so short lived. It ended because he stole this fancy vase thing from my house.”

“Wow,” Jamie whispers.

“And jokes on him, it was from pottery barn,” you huff, “But yeah, basically its not love I don’t believe in. It’s other people. So I’ve been pretty content to be on my own these days.”

“I get that,” Jamie says softly after a beat, “I’ve dated plenty of girls who only wanted me cause I’m a footballer. Or cause I’m great at sex,” you snort, shaking your head, but he continues, “Not that I really wanted a real relationship, but it still hurts when someone doesn’t want you for you.”

“Exactly,” you nod, picking off pieces of your scone, “I’ve never been with someone who felt genuine. Have you?”

Jamie sighs and you sense there’s a story there, “Once, but I fucked it up. Didn’t realize what I had until it was gone. Classic right?”

You huff lightly.

“The worst part is she was kind enough to stay my friend even after the way I treated her,” he continues, “So not only does she treat me with kindness that I definitely don’t deserve, but I have to sit by and watch her be with someone else.”

You frown, “That must make it hard to move on.”

“You have no idea,” he chuckles humorlessly.

“And you haven’t been with anyone else since?”

“A couple girls, but nothing serious. And no one recently. Haven’t really seen the point.”

“So I guess I’m not the only one who might be a little cynical then, huh?” you ask with a teasing smile.

He gives you a half smile. “Yeah, I guess I can’t be one to judge.”

You study him for a few more moments. After your introductions, you would have guessed Jamie Tartt was another classic playboy athlete, and after conversing with him that seemed to be his reputation. But now you weren’t so sure. He was…peculiar.

You continue chatting for a while longer. He tells you more about his football team and you tell him a few spoiler-free details about the movie you’re shooting. Before you know it, you’d been camped out in this cafe with Jamie for a full hour. Time flies when you’re enjoying yourself. You had to imagine the paparazzi had to have left the area by now. And while you weren’t in a hurry to cut your conversation short, your hot chocolate was no longer hot and your scone was long gone.

“Hey, this place is really nice by the way,” you comment, as you gather your trash, “I might have to come back here. That is, if you don’t mind sharing your secret hide away with me for the next three months?”

Jamie chuckles, following you back to the front of the café. “Feel free.”

You smile at him softly, as you walk out the door, “Maybe, I’ll uh, see you around?”

He shrugs his shoulder, “Yeah, I’ll be around. Maybe you could catch a football match while you’re in town.”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” you nod, “Well, thank you again for the rescue. I owe you one.”

“Nah, it was nothing. Get home safe, yeah?”

“You, too. Bye Jamie.”

He bids you farewell, before you two reluctantly turn and head in different directions. You wrinkle your nose, recapping your encounter in your head. What a random coincidence to run into an apparent famed football star on your first day in town. You wonder if you ever will run into him again, but you assume the odds of that are low.

Meanwhile, on his walk home, Jamie is questioning whether or not he should have asked for your number. In a strictly platonic sense, just to keep in touch or to be available in case you needed a friend while you were in town. But he brushes the thought away. Like a famous actress would want to willingly hang out with him if she wasn’t hiding from paparazzi. Yeah right. Odds are this was all a dream and the boys would laugh in his face if he brought it up tomorrow.

Real or not real, he’d remember your morning together fondly.

a/n: please let me know any and all those! again, so excited for this story and brand new journey for jamie x reader. also! i will be starting a fresh taglist for this story, so let me know if you’d like to be tagged. the distractions taglist will stay the same for any one shots i may continue to post in that universe. <3

taglist: @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @royalestrellas

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #mine #behind the scenes series

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sturn777 · 16 days

Text

ᴛᴏᴜʀ

chris sturniolo x angelina hamilton

chapter two

ALL OTHER PARTS

After flying out to Alanta, Angelina and Skye had walked around the town and went shopping, had a nice fancy dinner before coming back to their hotel room.

The sisters ran in with giggles, dropped their bags on the floor and jumped onto the bed. Letting out a big sigh before laughing with each other.

“Are you having fun so far?” Angelina asked with a wiggle of her eyebrows, sitting up on her elbows. Skye smiled and pretending too do a thoughtful face, earning a scoff from her sister and pillow to the face.

“Hey! Of course I’m having fun!” she smiled. “Just wish I didn’t have to wash the dishes…” she dragged, earning a pointed look from Angelina. Sky laughed, hiding her face in the bed before looking at her elder sister. “But really, thank you. I mean it.”

Angelina nodded before making a fuss. “Awwwe! Sky you’re so sweet! Aren’t you glad you have a big sister!” she coo’d, tickling the girls neck before being pushed away.

As Angelina fell off the bed Sky barked out a laugh, “Truce!”

——

The morning came and so did the day of the tour. Skylar has woken up early to get ready, waking up Angelina due to the loud blare of the iPhone alarm. They both showered and did their make-up before it was time to chose their outfits.

“Okay, I’m team Nick so I need to wear purple! We can’t be the same team because… well we aren’t. You have to wear either blue or orange!”

“Well I don’t know! What do the colours even mean!” Angelina exclaimed, searching through the small suitcase she had brought along - pulling out blue bell bottom jeans.

Skylar rolled her eyes, throwing the purple jersey she had made herself over her neck. “They’re the different teams dummy!”

“Well which one is the good side!”

“There is no good side!”

“Well I don’t wanna be the bad side!”

“There is no bad side!” Skylar sassed, squatting down to ruffle through her sister’s suitcase, due to her sister now pouting on the bed. “Look! This is a nice orange top wear this!”

Angelina looked up as Skylar fished out the bright colour. Only nodded as she stood up, grabbing the top and jeans before walking into the bathroom.

Soon both the girls were outside the hotel. They were both having a mini photoshoot for their instagrams as they waited for their taxi to the tour.

“Wait pose like this!” Skylar exclaimed, showing Angelina how to pose before going back to taking photos. Soon the girl got bored, so she decided to use up Angelinas storage and vlog like she promised her friends she would.

“Sky! Hurry the taxi!”

tags: @st7rnioioss @its-jennarose @timmyscomputer @kriissy4gov @liz-stxrn @sunrisemill @mattssluttywaist @riasturns @mx0qin @junnniiieee07 @sturnzsblog @mattslolita @ariieeesworld @alorsxsturn @annasturn0lo

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newtkive · 3 months

Text

pixels [ newt x reader - modern text au ]

ch. 2 - drama queen core

summary: minho's drama finally catches up with him, but newt becomes a hero.

warnings: strong language, mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

THE GLADE

[ 12:08 PM ]

y/n: gm pookies

newt: it’s the afternoon.

y/n: yeah well

ur east coast

newt: so are you y/n

y/n: FINE BAD MORNING THEN ARE U HAPPY?

minho: drama queen is awake

newt: you’re the drama queen min let’s be fr

minho: u want me to die be honest

newt: see .

tommy: hey guys :3 been waiting for you all

y/n: awwww tommy <3 gm

tommy: morning sweetums

minho: ew stop

newt: how did you sleep?

tommy: good! used my new heated pillow

newt: not you

minho: not you

tommy: wtf

WHO THEN?? THERES LIKE 7 OTHER PPL IN HERE

minho: he means y/n

and there’s 4 other people not including newt and y/n dumbass

y/n: oh

why just me????

newt: cuz you stayed up til 6 am

y/n: ..

how do you know that

newt: i saw you were active on discord

gally: doesn’t that mean you were awake too then

newt: ok and?

minho: thats crazy newt

newt: no it isn’t

i just casually saw it

y/n: hehe

im ok i need to sleep more. sims 4 was really consuming me

why were you awake??

newt: up for work

minho: you get on discord before work?

chronically online..

newt: can you choke and pass out and hit your head please

minho: THE WAY U WANT ME DEAD IS INSANE

y/n: he’s gotta check on his discord hoes before hitting the grind

newt: there are no discord hoes

unless you count thomas

and i don’t

tommy: well why not

newt: because you disgust me

tommy: love u too :3<3

minho: y’all about to kiss aren’t you

newt: never say that shit again im outside your door with a b*mb

minho: why censor it

just blow me up it’s my grandmas house anyway. u want to jump her that bad????

gally: blow that bitch up i say

y/n: HELLO???!,!!

gally: minho not grandma

she loves me cuz im so tall

minho: tall people always gotta remind you they’re tall 😒

like we get it bigfoot

gally: shut up tinkerbell

y/n: you’re somewhat tall minho

minho: any man under 6’0 is considered short

y/n: yeah but newt is 6 ft trapped in a 5’10 body so not totally true

newt: what does that even mean

minho: give me a break

i can tell you exactly what that means

she wanna hit

newt: stop

tommy: don’t get his hopes up

newt: dude

stfu

y/n: what newt said

gally: can we appreciate the only one actually over 6 ft here

minho: no.

tommy: im the same height as newt!!!!

y/n: yea but ur like 3 ft trapped in a 5’10 body tommy not the same

tommy: oh ..

minho: kind of real

newt: can someone kick gally i’m tired of seeing his fucking name on my phone

gally: then turn your phone off don’t you have old ladies to tend to at the library

newt: yeah and they all love me

y/n: so real

if i was old i’d go in there and imagine you’re my young boyfriend and cling to everything u say

tommy: true im the old ladies

y/n: LMAO

minho: write a fanfic y/n why don’t you

newt: yeah you both are old and not beating the dementia allegations

y/n: IM THE YOUNGEST HERE

ur just mad you’re old as dirt

tommy: youth has left you newt and it has turn you bitter in your old age.

minho: thomas knows big words who knew

newt: which word in that sentence was big??

y/n: shut up minho

minho: wtf did i do

y/n: idk but i imagine you sitting there typing on your little phone and i got pissed

minho: WHAT???!.‘wKWHFO

newt: LMAOOOOOOOOOOO

yeah chubby little fingers hitting the wrong letters on his iphone 8

minho: im leaving

tommy: dont leave i forgive you for what you said

minho: i don’t give a damn

y’all mad y’all are all fake im the realest i’ve been prophesizing and reading scriptures 7000 years before y’all fake asses were born be so for real right now

y/n: not reading that

congrats

or sorry for what happened idk

about to drink my coffee in a wine glass

tommy: just drink wine

newt: it’s noon tommy??

tommy: ok and?

newt: explains a lot

minho: no coffee for me this new year only water and pussy juice fr fr

[ newt removed minho from the group ]

tommy: woah

y/n: woah..

newt: i can’t take it anymore

alby: How did you get that access..?

newt: don’t worry about it

in times of need i have to step in like that

y/n: hi alby!

alby: Hey y/n!

tommy: you’re such a hero newt

gally: that was deserved

who wants to play minecraft rn

y/n: me!!

alby: I’ll play, I’m off work today.

y/n: let’s go to the desert i want a camel

gally: alright but then the caves after i wanna mine

newt: if you mine with her you gotta bring extra food and storage when she dies so you can pick up the fallen items

gally: i forget you’re her designated babysitter

y/n: oh please no he isn’t

and i’ll bring my own food

newt: you always say that and then leave it in the stove oven

y/n: WELL I WONT THIS TIME

newt: sure ok

i’ll get on after work

[ alby added minho to the group ]

minho: when i get you.

newt: why did you add him back alby

alby: He was harassing me.

newt: be a man and take it

gally: im leaving

[ gally left the group ]

minho: im going to throw up and die

newt: im staying out of this

minho: (guy who caused it) im staying out of this

y/n: why does gally alwyas leave 😔

newt: why question a gift from the heavens

tommy: get online y/n gally is attacking my dirt house w a pickaxe :((((

y/n: NO IM COMING

minho: im coming to your work newt

newt: okay im locking the door early then

minho: i’ll smash through the glass idc

newt: i’m leaving my shift is over at 1 today.

minho: i’ll use life360 on you

newt: i deleted that app

minho: i’ll stand in the middle of the street

newt: ok let me position my car in front of you

just come to my apartment and we can play w them on pc and xbox

minho: …. fine but i hate your guts

newt: fine

y/n: HURRY GALLY IS ATTACKING MY SHED NOOOOWWW

newt: i’ll just rebuild it

minho: i’ll set it on fire just wait

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