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bvnnywrites · 9 months

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Still Waters Run Deep

Chapter 1: Apple of His Eye

PAIRING: Eldritch!König x Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As I've said before, English isn't my first language, so this would e fun. Hehe. I'm so excited to share this fic with you guys hehehehe. I'm posting this on both Tumblr and Ao3. Who knows, the story on the other site would be different hm...? I'm not telling when, but hehe. Also, reader is in her twenties, specifically 22, so yayeet. If you don't like how fucked up this story is gonna get then please turn around and go on your merry way. I'll be posting the first chapter here on Tumblr because jesus, my ao3 invitation has yet to arrive. Also, don't forget to write comments, I need feedback because I eat them like it's groceries-

WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, NSFW, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Stomach Bulge, Age Gap, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Implied Discharge, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority, No Beta Reader, Dom! König, Size Kink, Size Difference, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Older!König, Eldritch!König, Monster!König, Masturbation, Dark Romance, Blood and Gore, Violence, Monsterfucking

WHENEVER A CERTAIN COLONEL PASSES BY the soldiers would grow quiet, as if he’s sucking the joy with him and then the chatter would continue once his thundering footsteps would fade away into quietness.

A silence would hang over the air for a brief moment – like they’re making sure the danger has passed before proceeding – and the soldiers would continue to chat once they're sure it was safe to proceed. Babbling away but their voices would be a bit hushed, as if their ears were on the lookout for the colonel’s presence.

The colonel was absolutely – you remember his name being König because you saw him score several shots using a sniper rifle in training – wholeheartedfuckingly terrifying.

König strides confidently across the battlefield and KorTac base of Operations in the same damn manner—Arrogant, egotistical, prideful. The mountain of a man walks in like he owns the place, and troops would be so relieved if they see him in the battlefield because they know that he'd be able to turn the tides to their favor.

And the fucker knows it. He knows people look up at him. Looking at him like the fucking messiah that would save them right then and there.

He relished in it.

And he was so fucking gigantic as he is muscular too, to the point his huge hands could definitely crush your head with his fingers if he saw fit. To say he was a Greek God was insulting. No, he was like Kronos.

Destructive.

All-devouring force.

Whenever you stood too close to him—even tho you recall not stepping too close to the colonel because you wanted to respect the five-foot rule for everyone lest they give you the go signal to hog their personal space like Izzy does—you can see the way his muscles would bulge whenever he tightened his fists, or how the veins on his arms were so… alluring, and holy shit he has scars. Battle scars that should've repulsed you but you find yourself wanting to trace it with your fingers.

His form is almost mesmerizing—like how you'd imagine Fenrir slaying Odin from one of the Norse Myths.

However, like Fenris Wolf, he too was bound and shackled to base. Most of the time, at least. You would see him buried and drowning and several paperwork when you go to his office while Roze waited for you by the door.

And you could see his baby blue eyes squint and conjure a glint of annoyance as you hand him your report. He has pretty eyes, that colonel. He doesn’t speak to you, always uttering grunts or huffs. Dismissing you with a wave of his hand—always gestures but never talking.

It reminds you of gray skies and blue muted waters, and sometimes they seemed vibrant when you hear the sinister glee in his voice of bashing an enemies head open like how watermelon breaks – and then he'd look at you and you'd immediately avert your gaze because oh god that would be so fucking awkward if your superior had caught you staring at his eyes like a creep.

As mentioned before, König is mostly quiet, and you didn't really hear him talk since he never talked to you at all. In the battlefield, when he barked out orders, gunfire would drown them and those closest to him would relay the message on to the others.

Lieutenant Izzy – Izanami actually, but she preferred being called Izzy – always spoke in Japanese, but she can speak a few broken English words. She didn’t seem to see you as a liability, often asking you out to grab lunch with her and Captain Roze. The white-haired girl always made sure you never missed your meals, and if you did, she’d make sure to hand you some MREs for the sake of making sure you’re taken care of.

She said to you once, “Be careful of that colonel, he is… what is English word that for… word you use when object is not good to you—harms life.”

“You mean dangerous?” Roze would correct her. “We really need to work on your English, girl.”

“Yes, that the word I’m looking for.” Izzy would laugh. “ローズ先輩、訂正してくれてありがとう。”

Roze, on the other hand, was more closed off. She was ruthless and strict, but you’re convinced that she cares about you the same way Izzy does because she gets this soft glint in her eyes when you tell her that you forgot to eat or missed lunch. Then five seconds later you’d feel an MRE smacking you on the chest, and Roze is barking at you for being stupid enough to not eat and say you’re lucky that her and Izzy are looking out for you.

But you can tell that both are highly protective of you, like older sisters making sure their youngest sibling didn't fuck up on missions or get hung by their rib by enemy soldiers.

Whenever the colonel passed by, you remember Roze’s words “Keep your gaze down” because apparently there was an incident where König had beaten the shit out of a recruit because the poor thing looked at him funny. Something about the recruit scrunching his face in disgust at the colonel or was it because he had mocked him behind his back?

Either way, the kid was beaten to a pulp.

The colonel was never given a court martial, however, since he had been able to pull rank it seems. Roze was the one who told you during lunch, voice in a hushed whisper.

Then your thoughts wander back to the nightly horror stories your soldiers would tell to one another. You had a habit of visiting them before making sure they all slept on curfew time. It was fun and it helped boost morale amongst the troops. It also helped that you were a younger lieutenant, so you were able to easily connect to your platoons’ humor and quip remarks.

You remember the hushed whispers in the barracks, each of them uttering stories of what König might look like beneath the mask.

You often thought maybe he looks so mutilated that it resembles Nemesis from Resident Evil or maybe Salvatore on the Village Version. But you've seen the pretty blue eyes König possessed and you just know that deep down, he was a handsome man.

Sure, he was old enough to be your dad, had a huge ass age gap that's wider than the forehead of the colonel of the Mexican Special Forces you had previously worked with due to König being forty-five years old, but you'll admit a pretty man if you see one.

However, your soldiers' claims were way more hilarious as they spoke. Each sounding absurd and stupid than the last.

"I heard he has three faces, like the demon Asmodeus. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if he's a prince of Hell in disguise. Have you seen his body? What I'd give to climb him like a tree."

"I could've sworn I saw worms underneath. Kind of like maybe a maggot-infested lower jaw since I heard the skin of his jaw had been burnt off."

"I think he has the face only a mother could love. Men like that exist."

You had grown up in a small town, people believing heavily in superstitious beliefs. However, once you've left said small town, you realize that they were silly things that old people simply uttered into the wind.

"Did you know a psychic said I would get murdered when I was ten?" You laughed at the absurdity of it all, wanting to add some scary shit of your own.

"Really, L.T?" One of your soldiers said. "Oh, this has to be good!"

“Yeah. I remember she was very old, and if I were correct, I think she moved from Hallstatt? Wherever the fuck that is.”

You told them the stupid little story. How you lost twenty dollars to a fraud only for them to say you'll get murdered, and how it spooked you as a kid and made you all paranoid only to realize you just got scammed out of your money.

"The thing that will kill you is hiding its face. The thing that will kill you has its crown scraping the ceiling. The thing that will kill you has sharpened teeth. The thing that will kill you will charm you with its glamor and false promises. The thing that will kill you will devour you with its appendages and fill you with its seed. The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."

The soldiers all laughed, including you, after you've said it in the most croaked voice as you mimicked the old psychic.

You've never laughed so hard in your whole life, but you were glad that it was your troops that were with you and not stuck up stoic alpha male soldiers. It wasn't real, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.

All of you got along.

Sure, most of the soldiers given to you were teens – because the military was just hiring eager and stupid kids, and by God you were going to protect these little shits with your life – but it was fine because they had you. For as long as you live, you promised yourself you'd make sure they were all safe.

And you took them under your wing and you feel bad because they were kids compared to you. They shouldn't be here dressing up as soldiers and being sent off to war zones with you. These kids were supposed to be at home, where they could be safe, and worrying about teen stuff. But then again, KorTac was a company at the end of the day.

A Private Military Company—basically just glorified mercenaries at this point.

Of course, they would exploit anyone who is willing to serve for their country while also getting paid generously compared to being in a government affiliated military—Hell, you're here, aren't you? Why? Because they can be greedy fucks and capitalism exists, and KorTac rivals Disney in terms of being a well-known PMC in the military world, and you're broke.

Not to mention that the BAS – Basic Allowance for Subsistence – was fucking higher in KorTac than the government affiliated military you used to serve in. A BAS rate of seven hundred sixty-two point sixty-nine euros for enlisted members, while officers are given the same but with an increased rate of four hundred ninety-seven point fifty- eight euros is better than the current BAS.

You also get the average of six thousand and seven hundred eighty-two euros at an average per month here in KorTac. The pay is way fucking better and you can save up money to the point you were able to pay off your own student and credit card debts and leave your parents' nest since you were basically loaded at this point.

Money was enough to blind you from the dangers that lurked beneath the still waters that run deep that is KorTac.

"The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."

“Did you hear what happened?”

“What?”

“Another soldier went missing again.”

Captain Stiletto changed her mags, examining her scope as she spoke to you with a calm voice—as if she hadn’t just dropped the news of someone going missing. Again. You were ready to hear which recruit was unlucky enough to be whisked away and never to be seen again. That or they turn up mutilated and scared, and the poor things won’t even talk. However, a missing rookie suddenly turns up out of nowhere after months of disappearing without a trace was statistically low.

No, really, it would be low—unusual at best.

The best way to analyze it would be using the Bayesian Inference, and using a probability model to express the uncertainty towards the situation. In this case, using a binary variable would be ideal, $Y$, to represent the outcome whether the missing rookie ever did turn up or not. $Y$ = 1 if the rookie is found, and $Y$ = 0 if the rookie isn’t found.

Then assume that the probability of finding said missing rookie is equal to the proportion of all missing persons who are eventually found. As evidence becomes available, then update the model with that evidence and compute the posterior distribution for the probability of finding the rookie.

In this case, if one of the higher ups discovered the rookie all pale and shaking and are obviously had been terrified to fucking death, the information in that scenario could be used to update the posterior distribution, taking into account that the probability that the rookie had seen something scary in that location, if they were ever found that is.

Once the model with all available evidence has been updated, the posterior distribution to make predictions of the probability of finding the new recruit can now be used. The officers tasked with finding them—at least those who hasn’t given up—will be able to find them within a certain time frame or calculate the probability that they’re are found alive or dead.

Just some basic statistics you’ve learned in ninth grade, that’s all. Or at least from what you can remember.

The scar that ran down the captain’s face was evident like the blood smeared in your hands when you’ve killed an enemy. No one knew why there was a huge damage to her face or why it was there in the first place. You’ve only been in KorTac for a month, almost everyone you’ve met have given you warnings and it was all the same—keep your distance from the colonel. You have half a mind to say “Fuck this” but the pay was good.

Not to mention your contract hasn’t been finished yet and you doubt you’d find a good paying job like this while doing what you love.

“Who was it?” You dared to ask.

Stiletto looks away for a moment, before turning back to you. “Private O’Neil.”

Your eyes widened at the information. You don’t know the person, but to hear a private going missing was surprising. Usually, it was the recruits who disappeared for the most part or at least from your observation in your stay here. Now that’s very strange.

“Huh… a Private? How come it wasn’t a rookie?”

“That’s what I’m thinking too.”

Stiletto responds with the same confusion as you, her lips pursed. She looks worried, unsure to react.

“The colonel had been tasked to investigate the missing cases, but even he isn’t getting any answers.” The captain says, her face troubled. “It’s like there’s a serial killer at base.”

“Like playing Mafia, huh.” You joked.

“Exactly.”

You’re scared of what this could mean. If whoever it was plucking the recruits off like grapes were about to turn to privates, then it won’t be long before your ass is on the line. You have half a mind to help, maybe offer your insights on the investigations, but thanks to Roze and Izzy’s advice, you knew better than to get too close to the colonel…

Unless you want to get beaten by König with your incompetency—what he deems incompetency—since he loves doing things his way according to the soldiers who had worked with him.

It wasn’t enough to scare the rookies, however. They’re still chatty and happy, all of them seemed unaffected by these rumours.

Of course, they’d be unaffected, everyone is telling them that it’s just rumours and the soldier that disappeared had simply been discharged for wanting to leave or go back home. There were a few who didn’t believe it, but those with higher ranks – including you – were reassuring them that it was merely rumours.

That they shouldn’t really worry their pretty little minds about it. And what infuriated you the most was because it worked. They were gullible kids, as young as sixteen to nineteen—basically a six to three years old age gap between you and them. They should know better than to believe the honeyed words from yours or their superiors’ mouth.

But could you even blame them?

They’re just kids. You and the other high-ranking officers were older than them, obviously they would trust you. They expect all of you to guide them, showing them the real ropes of war and violence unlike the trial sessions they’ve had in boot camp and the infantry.

So, really the blame was on every high ranking official—including you.

Everyone from being a specialist to the general of the army were losing their shit over these incidents because KorTac was supposed to promote opportunity and valour, but how can you do that if your fellow soldiers – doesn’t matter what rank they are – are going missing like some monster was plucking them off of their rooms one by one or rather off of the hallways when they’re past curfew.

Curfew falls under your responsibility too, sergeants up to lieutenant colonels were tasked to make sure that every rookie or corporal has to be following the curfew or rather their curfew. KorTac had implemented the curfew for the rookies up to the corporals’ weeks prior to your official employment according to Roze.

The last thing the people who called the shots wanted was a widespread panic amongst their troops.

“Do you have any hunch as to who it might be?” You asked her curiously, wanting to know the captain’s thoughts.

“It could be that newbie before you, Phillip Graves, but he’s mostly out on missions. So, that checks him out.” Stiletto answered, looking at you. “Then there could be the possibility of it being Horangi.”

“Why him?”

“He’s too violent.”

“Aren’t we all?”

Stiletto laughs at your response, shaking her head as if you’re being silly. The captain was nice, in your opinion at least. She pats you back lightly like an aunt would when you remind her of your mom when they were younger. There’s a twinkle in her eyes, one where it makes you wonder just how exactly does Stiletto see you—a daughter, sister or maybe a friend. Either way, you were in her good graces and that’s enough to quell your curiosities for now.

The two of you were practicing alone in the firing range. Those at the lower ranks had gone to sleep or were forced to sleep since it was curfew for them.

The atmosphere had gone heavy.

It was light and cheery in the morning, but at night, the happiness and laxness of the vicinity disappears, and you and the rest of the soldiers with a higher rank are faced with the reality that someone was picking off all of you one by one like candies inside your granny’s bowl of strawberry candy that you don’t see anywhere in the grocery store.

You know, the one’s you get when one day you became a grandma – or great-aunt, or even an honorary old “auntie” – and these things just magically appear at the bottom of your purse. The ones that once they start spilling out of your bag, you’ll find an intricate cut-glass bowl or dish in the middle of your living room and your grandkids or kids would just come and go while pocketing a handful of them, and the refill is somehow always in your purse.

Stiletto hands you a rosary from her pocket. You looked at the long wooden beads coated with silver chains and designs before glancing at the captain. You took it gently, letting the coolness of the holy object cool your skin that wraps around it. Oh, it’s a sweet gesture. Now you have something to wear around your neck, a little good luck charm despite the fact that you don’t really believe in God or a higher being. Her head is tilted to the side, looking at you with an analysing glance as silence befalls the two of you.

“Why…?” You asked her underneath the fluorescent lights of the firing range, riffles forgotten at each other’s side.

Stiletto shrugs, sighing tiredly, “Maybe the thing that’s picking us off one by one would be scared of the Lord.”

“I doubt he exists.”

“He’ll save you in your time of need. He answered my prayers. Maybe He’ll answer yours too.”

“What did you pray for?”

Stiletto is quiet for a moment, looking away before looking back at you with worry. She placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“That you would still be alive the next time I see you… that you wouldn’t be next, lieutenant.”

“You’re the lieutenant that Horangi had referred to the company, ja?”

A voice says with a German accent to it, and by Mary, Joseph, and the Babeh Jesus what an alluring voice he has. It was low and rough, a tad bit raspy—gravelly. You thought to yourself that if you were Persephone and you heard this voice coaxing you into the warm embrace of the Underworld, you too would have cartwheeled and backflipped into Hades’s lap. Leaving the nymphs and the flowers, and the warm sun to drown in the enticing embrace of the God of Death while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

You turned around, half a mind to fuck the brains out of this man until you saw who was speaking to you and all horniness came to a halt as you realized who it was.

König.

You glanced directly at his eyes briefly before averting you gaze, Roze’s warning echoing in your head. You nod your head, confirming his question. You tell him your name and rank, which country you came from, and basically any general information you can tell to confirm your identity. Konig nods his head at your words. His eyes crinkled—was he smiling underneath the sniper hood?—and you can hear a smug tone on his voice.

“Ja, leutnantin, I’ve read your files.”

“Oh.”

Your eyes glanced to the side, seeing some soldiers chattering at the end of the hall. Good. There are people around. A polite smile blossoms on your face, offering it to the colonel – just like you would whenever you bump into a senior officer. Your mind raced why he was suddenly talking to you.

HE BARELY RESPONDED SO WHY WAS HE SUDDENLT BEING A CHATTER BOX?! You internally panicked since he often responded in hums or grunts whenever you give your report, didn’t even glance at you whenever the two of you passed by each other.

So, why now?

“Did you need something, sir?” You asked him politely, tilting your head a little as you crane your head to look at him properly because holy shit, he’s so fucking tall.

“I do, actually, Schatz.” König responds, cold eyes gazing down at your smaller form. “I need your help with a… serious matter. Come with me to my office.”

His strides are big and long as you struggled to keep up with him as he walked down the halls. Your eyes glued to his massive thighs… and oh. The soldiers within the halls part like the sea as König passed by as if he was Noah. They all lower their gaze, chattering going to a halt until only the sound of the storm raging outside can be heard.

“So, why do we need to go to your office?”

But König doesn’t answer, and his hands balled to a fist. You can see the cloth crinkle as his grip dug into his palms, while he ignores your question. Which is, in a way, rude since you were simply trying to gouge out information as to why your colonel was summoning you to his office. You furrowed your brows at his actions.

“It’s the least I should know, don’t you think–”

“Are you always so noisy?”

You blinked owlishly at his words, the colonel barely looking or glancing at you as he continued to walk down the halls of KorTac. Your breath hitches in your throat as you register the slight annoyance in his voice.

He finally looks at you, eyes crinkling as he laughs. And oh god, his laugh. The mere sound of it makes your cheek warm and make both of your lips smile.

“The look on your face earlier is funny, Schatz. However, you’re a lieutenant, no? I’m sure that despite how young you are, you’re mature enough to know that there are classified things that can only be discussed within the confines of an office, ja?”

“I’m sorry, colonel. I didn’t mean to let it slip off of my head.”

You feel like winning the lottery, but the prize isn’t a billion bucks—it’s the fact that you haven’t angered the colonel, and he’s not bashing your head to the pavement or maybe stabbing you where you stand and tearing your flesh with his gloved hands.

You don’t notice the guilt that settles on your face… nor the look of softness and endearment on König’s face as he admires the look of culpability blossoms on you face.

The softness of your face, the way your eyes are filled with such an adorable shyness when you think that he would actually reprimand you for something so innocent. You were so little compared to him too, so fragile… so weak. He relishes in this power over you—power over your reactions and your expressions. You looked so eager to stay on his good side. So eager to please him in your own innocent way. Whether you intentionally do it or not, König is being pumped full of dopamine at just you talking to him.

He's had his eye on you for a long while. The moment you stepped foot on base, beneath the scorching sun of the tarmac, König wanted nothing more than to snatch you and make you his. Drag you away from KorTac, smuggle you to Austria and lock you away in his house by the sea shore, away from prying eyes.

Where he can have you all to himself.

But even his rank and reputation in KorTac couldn’t save or excuse his behaviour if he does that. Everyone would think he was a freak or someone creepy if he were to ever just scoop you up. The way your voice echoes when you bark out your orders to those inferior to you, the way it softens when you talk to your friends – especially to Horangi, and König s gnawing at the cages of his enclosure because he wished you would talk to him the way you would to Horangi.

He wants to talk again without addressing you formally, but he is awkward with connecting to people. Even when he tried to follow his psychiatrist’s advice in trying to open up to people, König still has a hard time trying to initiate a conversation. The words piling up in his throat—stuck there for the rest of eternity.

König doesn’t know what to do with his hands, resisting the strong urge to grab yours—so tiny and adorable—and let his giant hand envelope it. You are pouting, gaze averted to the ground, cheek rosy from embarrassment, probably reprimanding yourself that you should’ve known better.

König isn’t sure if he wants you to be scared of him or not – and he hates that you are the first one to be an exception to his desires, because he wanted everyone to fear him. There is something dark, disgustingly predatory almost, in his thoughts as he watched you beat yourself up, but he doesn’t speak, and his fists are balled up because your voice and adorable face were too fucking much and he doesn’t even know how to talk to a girl in his adult years.

“C-colonel, we’re here.”

You hate that you stutter, but you can’t help it since your heart skipped a beat when you looked up and saw König looking at you with such softness and tenderness from his gigantic height. You had to take a deep breath, shaking your head at the delusion it’s not a delusion, you aren’t seeing things runnin in your head.

No.

That was wrong. That idea in itself would be wrong. The colonel was someone wise despite his violent tendencies. He would never entertain the idea of being with a fellow soldier. Not to mention bend the rules just to risk his position and rank. It would be stupid for him. It wouldn’t be worth it for him, and you just fucking know it.

“Ah… right. Bitte, wait a minute.”

You can see how miniscule the keys are to his hand, his form bending down a little and when he stood back up, he was at least three inches taller than the fucking doorway. He turns the lights on and gestures for you to step in. He closed the door behind you as you took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his gigantic desk.

The desk looked proportionate to his form, and the office chair he has accommodates him greatly and it makes your heart flutter because he looks like a king and all he had to do was give out his decree, and you would be scrambling to do said decree to please him because holy shit something about how big he is, is making your insides churn deliciously–

Wait. Bitch, you better stop. Your thoughts screeched to halt, smacking yourself internally because you’re sure you’re not yet in your ovulation week because you just finished your period four days prior… No, that’s not true, you lost track of your cycle due to the recent events that happened at base. The colonel was twiceyour size, and you’re not sure if you can take him.

Not in a fight, of course.

“So, about the recent events happening here at base, I’m sure you’re well aware of it by now.” König starts, leaning at the desk. “Soldiers are disappearing left and right, the younger ones wouldn’t take long before they stop buying our lies, and we need a way to stop whoever it is that is picking is off and making us drop like flies.”

He stopped, eyes roaming as if he’s analysing you.

“Hase, you are quite the prodigy that at such a young age you’ve managed to achieve the rank of lieutenant, and I am completely impressed.” König says, nodding to himself as if he’s proud of you. “Someone of your calibre would be of valuable help to catch the culprit or, rather, the creature that’s currently on the loose in base and hunting us one by one.”

“Creature? Don’t you mean person?”

“I’d like you to look at these and tell me that a human was behind these incidents.”

König slides you a dossier and you merely throw a confused glance at him before opening said dossier, and you almost–No. You do regret opening the fucking folder.

The entrails of the victims are chewed off and sprawled across the floor, the ground was a sea of blood. Some of them had missing parts, but mostly the torso was empty, intestines being the only thing left behind from the inside of the corpses, and there were a few where the eyes hangs out of its socket and runs down their faces like a veiny egg yolk. You want to look away, but you can’t. Some pictures showed the skins have been peeled off, most had been cleanly peeled off. Even the nipples were intact. Never to this day have you seen anything so horrible.

Finally, the urge to puke tore your attention away from the files, smacking it to the table as you swivelled your head away, and your mouth unhinged as the familiar disgusting liquid of your insides went past your throat. Before any of it could spill past your lips, a bucket had been shoved to catch it. König holds the bucket to your mouth. Meanwhile, you did nothing but vomit. Over and over again. Long after it seemed there was nothing more to bring up, you continued to vomit.

At last, after a good solid minute, you stopped. Tears prickled your face as puke-mixed snot went down your throat. König was kind enough to offer you tissues to help clean yourself up before he hands you a glass of water, and getting rid of your vomit.

“I’m sorry.” You weakly said. “That caught me off guard and I–” The words cut off in your thought as you shuddered as the pictures seared into your head. Well, guess this is my thirteenth reason.

“It’s fine, Schatz. Nothing to be sorry about. It is rare for someone to stomach such evidence.” He reassures you.

His giant hand rubs soothing circles on your back and it’s so comforting that you eventually calm down and catch your breath. The taste of bile still lingers and you downed glass after glass of water just to get rid of it but seemingly failing to do so. Yet it is nothing compared to the electrifying touch of König’s fingers that glide behind your back, passing by the wing ang hooks of your bra. Of course, he didn’t mean to do that he most definitely did intendes to do that because he was just trying to ease you out of your sickened state.

“I’m sorry.” You say again.

The pout on your lips was making you adorable and König was glad he was the way that he was right now. Had he been the same age as you, he wouldn’t have been able to hold back. He would’ve pushed you down on his desk, giant hands spreading your legs, tearing your clothes, while he makes you beg for his cock–

“As I’ve said before, Schatz. It’s fine. We have to recompose ourselves from time to time. After all, we’re only human, no?”

You look up at him from where you seat, smiling softly at him. He was so nice. Your eyes flickered to his neck, and then on to his fingers. Seeing the lack of wedding band on him had you feeling butterflies. Was he not married? Who wouldn’t want to marry him? Was he ugly?

His baby blue eyes—like a mixture of storm grey skies and the heartless depths of the ocean—were a soft hint to the fact that he was handsome. You just know. Unconsciously licking your lips, your eyes scanned him over – in the most shameless manner, but that was fine. You can always chuck it up to you just analysing him.

“Now, Schatz.” His fingers wrapped around you chin, coaxing you gently to look up at him. “Lieutenant colonel Allard, Captain O’Neil, and I will be conducting a manhunt starting at 00:00 up until to 04:30 this Friday. Allard would be taking the North side of the base, I’ll be taking the South, and O’Neil would be taking the West area–”

You paid attention to every word he said, nodding your head every now and then. You kept your eyes locked to his, unaware of the growing tent inches away from your face in your colonel’s pants.

“–which is why I called you to my office.” His voice rips you out of your trance. “I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to lend out a hand in catching whatever it was that’s picking us off one by one?”

“Yes, sir.”

The way you responded with such speed had you internally clutching your pearls. You were so confused as to why you had agreed so easily without even asking for the details. Hopefully, your colonel would be kind enough to graciously brief you and the team before he sends you all out to play limbo with this culprit.

König smiles at your eagerness to help the team—to help him. The younger ones weren’t so eager like you; often having to be bribed with a reward just to help. But you? You said yes without any hesitation.

“Are you married, Schatz?”

“No, sir.”

“How come? Most female or male soldiers your age are married. Why aren’t you?”

“Why aren’t you?”

Your body tensed as your mind caught up with that loose mouth of yours, but before you could even stop yourself the words had already been uttered into the world. Holding your tongue and making you blurt this in front of your superior needs to be fired. Like, bro, pick a different sim to fuck up. Please. You might’ve had the chance to be in his good graces, being offered promotion after promotion because König did say he’s read your files – he’s awfully touchy too, but maybe that’s because he’s comfortable around you. You might’ve had a chance of walking out the office, alive and healthy with nothing but a nod of a head and telling you to be prepared for the operation this upcoming Friday – but now you’ve said those words with such casualness that it doesn’t really suit the dynamic between you two, and could promptly land you to some punishments. You could–

The colonel chuckles, eyes closed as his shoulder’s shook, and the sound of it makes your cheeks flare with warmth.

“What gave it away, Schatz?”

Your body relaxed, seeing he wasn’t offended or irritated by your response.

“It’s uh… um, the lack of wedding ring, sir.”

“Oh? What an observant klein leutnantin.”

He looks at you, contemplating for a moment before König spoke.

“I have trouble finding a… suitable mate, if you will. Mutter often tells me that I’m a carbon copy of my father, which could explain why she’s so distant and hostile towards me. I don’t… I don’t know or saw the need to find a partner until… until recently.”

His gaze lands on you as he said the last two words. You furrowed your brows, wondering who or what could’ve changed his mind. With a tilt of your head to the side, you asked him a question that stems from his words.

“How come your mother hated you just because you looked like your father? You can’t exactly control your looks.”

“Because he was a monster who had forced himself on her, and forced her to carry his child – which would be me.”

Your eyes widened at that. You didn’t exactly expect the colonel to say it so casually, as if it’s a fun fact you’re telling to a kindergarten. You pursed your lips, looking away, feeling awkward and bad now that you had brought up the topic.

“I’m sorry… I… I didn’t… know.” Was all you can muster.

“You seem to not know anything at all, Schatz.” He cooed at you. “It’s alright. You needn’t be sorry. How I was born is something I cannot control, but the outcome of who I can be is.”

König chuckles, walking over to pat your head affectionately and holy shit it has your heart racing.

“Growing up, the children my age shunned me. They had thrown rocks at me, calling me a monster. My mother did nothing to comfort me, dismissing me and shoving a sack to cover my face. I spent most times outside the house, often sleeping on caves by the waters or at the sand by the shore. The lake is something comforting, I must say… I miss it – yearn for it, if you will."

“Lake? Don’t you mean ocean?”

“My hometown was in Hallstatt Lake, Austria.”

His words ring a bell. You could’ve sworn you’ve heard of Hallstatt Lake before. You tried to remember where you heard it, but couldn’t. Oh, well. If I can’t remember it, then it ain’t that important.

My father travelled from the ocean and dwelled by the lakes of that area. Then he saw mein mutter and... you know how that story went. Anyways, I have learned that I am… hideous. Therefore, that is one of the contributes as to why I am still, in your kind’s terms, single.”

“So you’ve never had partners before? Not even… I dunno… doing the devil’s tango? Sex?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “No, Schatz. They back out the last minute.”

You looked at him pitifully. He was a lonely man, wanting to have someone beside him and yet his self-esteem was so low. Maybe fucking him could boost his self-esteem. It’s not like I’m craving him, I’m simply helping. Maybe I could be the first to teach him the intimate touch of a woman. The comforts of the flesh. There was something about damaged men that are just so fucking hot. After all, it’s just a twenty-three years old age gap between König and I – Woah, what?! Pause. Your thoughts screeched to a halt, pinching yourself for letting it wander off that far.

How did it get to this?

How did the two of you get so comfortable to the point he’s literally just trauma dumping on you, and you’re lending an ear to listen. You should be walking out f the door, telling him this was unprofessional but you find yourself glued to the chair, heart going out to König as you empathize with him.

“I may not know what you look like under the mask, but mom did tell me that you can see if a person has a handsome or beautiful face is by looking at the shape of their eyes.”

“Oh? And what have you deduced from just observing my eyes, Schatz? Am I considered monstrous?”

“No, sir… I’d say you’re beautiful.”

König’s eyes widened at your words, his cheeks burning beneath the mask and he’s so fucking thankful that you can’t see his face or what he looks like underneath. His heart thumps louder than it did when he first saw you.

He is fighting the urge to invite you to move in with him to his quarters, keeping you all to himself. König’s sure that his bedroom is way more spacious and comfier than that of a lieutenant’s. The Austrian giant has to physically restrain himself from snatching you, and dragging you into the shadows with him where no one can rip you from his embrace – he can’t bear thinking about you being with someone else.

“Was it offensive… sir?”

“No, liebling. I just think you are blind.”

König would absolutely whisk you away right now. All you need to do was say the word, and he’d be following your words as if they are the ten commandments. He can and will buy you an estate if you want, just pick a place—preferably in Hallstatt, Austria—and that would be easy for him. König would love to just provide for you, to get to go home to someone as adorable and meek as you are – eager to succeed and be praised by the most little of things. You would be protected there. No one would ever disturb you.

His father was never there for his mother. Left nothing to support her other than trauma after he was hunted down by the townsfolk and brutally murdered. König tells himself that he would be different, that he would give you the world. You need only ask.

He understands that being delusional isn’t healthy, and that his psychiatrist would definitely shoot him with a Nerf gun for letting himself descend into this type of madness, but he was old.

And lonely.

And you’re just so sweet and so nice to him, going so far as to tell him he’s beautiful. And despite spending too much time in waters, König drowns himself in fantasies about you being in a giant house, welcoming him home after his deployment, pregnant and eager to kiss him sweetly. You who can be his everything. A cure for his troubles and woes, even though his psychiatrist had severely advised him to not put your partner on high pedestals because it is extremely unhealthy and co-dependent.

König knows he can’t just blurt shit out as he pleases, lest he scares you away. You would scream at him, call him a sociopath – or a psychopath if you aren’t as knowledgeable as him in the department of terms. He is only self-aware enough to know that he can lose you if he made one wrong move.

He’s old and tired. And he wants to experience fatherhood before he dies, preferably having you as his klein Frau. But he can’t rush you. He needs to bid his time. In that moment, König decided—regretfully so—to let you go back to your duties for the day.

He needed to get close to you than he ever did before—needed to work with you to have you close to him at all times.

“That would be all, liebling.” König says to you. “You are free to go now. I don’t really want to hold you up here for too long.”

“It’s an honour to be picked by you, colonel.” You chirp happily, eager to maintain this casualness between you two in hopes of getting promoted faster.

The giant, behemoth of a man watches you walk away from him, eyes glued to your hips and adorable, plump ass. Your frame still smaller than him even when you stood up to your full height. It was endearing to him. Soft blue eyes following your every move, watching you as you give him one last smile and a friendly wave before you closed the door shut behind you.

“I’d say you’re beautiful.”

Your words echoed in his head, making the older being flustered as he ran his hands over his face and sighed. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, and he knew he’d be clinging to that until the day he died.

“It shall be the day that the sun is at its peak when you find what you longingly desire. Once the sky is thick with water and the blood of warriors are spilled, the gods will give you a chance to converse with this creature. You should turn them away. Put them at arms-length, but you are a selfish being. You would devour them, drain them until they are merely husks because of your depravities… I pity this young girl.”

He recalls the stupid reading he had gotten from a so-called ‘wise woman’ twelve years ago in her quaint house at Wolfengasse street. Maybe that völva was genuine in her craft before she left Austria.

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Golden Boy

Plot: Zava arrives at Richmond and some of the staff are more thrilled than others…specifically Y/n.

Warnings: f!reader, language, (16+)

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: This chapter was quick to be cranked out, and Mr. Tartt finally enters the chat.

I’ve gotten a few requests for tags and as with most my fics, I’m only tagging 16+ with ages in bios. Looking out for younger eyes 👀

Hope you enjoy this one!

——————

The moment Zava had uttered the word ‘Richmond,’ Nelson Road was thrown into complete chaos.

Y/n, Keeley and Higgins had been working overtime overseeing plans for the official welcome event. Not only did Zava’s level of fame demand a big deal, but the whole city of Richmond was beside themselves with glee. They had to go all out.

“Okay,” Y/n said, typing out a quick text at Keeley’s desk, “Higgins says the red carpet was just delivered along with the banners.”

“Perfect,” Keeley replied, ticking off a box of the event’s long to-do list, “Did he say anything about ticket sales?”

Y/n and Keeley had been double-teaming the matter of Zava’s recruitment and had been meeting or speaking each morning since the Chelsea match. They were beginning to find their rhythm, passing tasks back and forth with a smooth stream of communication.

“Sold out,” Y/n answered, locking her phone and setting it down with a smile, “And have you been checking Twitter?”

“Oh, I know,” Keeley’s eyes widened, “Richmond’s been trending nearly every day. The power of celebrity!”

It was a PR blessing. Zava’s signing with the Greyhounds had completely blotted out the sewer meme, Nathan Shelley’s hateful comments, West Ham…the world’s eyes were on Richmond in the best possible way.

“Alright, so 10AM for the event’s start,” Y/n ran her pen down her task-list, “I doubt he’ll want to take pictures with fans, but there’s time to. But maybe a group one with the team would be a good idea?”

There was a light knock on Keeley’s door.

“Come in,” she called.

Opening and revealing Keeley’s latest hire, her friend Shandy, Y/n instinctively stiffened a little.

“I just thought of a great idea,” Shandy said with great enthusiasm, “What if we had…Zava dancers? Like they get for sports in the States,” Shandy gestured to Y/n, ”What do you think?”

Y/n and Keeley both wore the same over-exaggerated smile as they listened. Visions of Laker Girls and Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders danced through their minds.

“That’s…” Y/n slowly nodded, glancing over to Keeley, “An idea.”

“It certainly is,” Keeley nodded back before turning to Shandy, “But I don’t think we’ve got time to pull it together.”

Shandy’s shoulders fell in disappointment, “Oh, that’s true,” she pointed between Keeley and Y/n, “But still, save it for another time.”

“Definitely,” both women replied encouragingly, satisfying Shandy enough to head back to her desk.

Spending so much time at the KJPR office had presented Y/n the opportunity to help Keeley get Shandy adjusted to corporate life. It hadn’t taken more than two days for Y/n to realize it was a task that might kill her. She was carrying on as a favor to Keeley.

“Oh,” Keeley reached across and tapped the back of Y/n’s hand, “How’s it going, having Trent around?”

“Well, he’s catching us on a good week,” Y/n sighed as she began to gather her things. She had to get to Nelson Road and help oversee set-up with Higgins. “To be honest, I haven’t seen much of him, or anyone for that matter. It’s just been me and Higgins rushing in and out of each other’s offices. And Dani knocking on my door at least once a day asking if we should be doing more for Zava’s arrival.”

Keeley smiled as Y/n’s sentences ran on, “Oi, remember to breathe.”

Y/n chuckled, she’d been holding her breath since her first day at Richmond. There was no exhalation in sight.

“I’ll breathe,” she replied, opening the door and looking back to her boss, “Once this is over.”

—————————

The next day, Nelson Road Stadium was bustling as soon as there was light in the sky. Come 10AM, the stands were packed with fans, all awaiting the arrival of the newest Greyhound….

Who hadn’t bothered to show up.

“Where the hell is he?” Rebecca hissed as Keeley, Higgins and Y/n all did double time on their phones, “Leslie! We do have a signed contract, don’t we?”

“Of course,” Higgins replied, “We have an e-signature. That’s legally binding,” his confident smile began to waver, “I think. I’ll make a call.”

Higgins went off with his phone while Keeley nudged Rebecca, “His agent hasn’t heard from him, but she’s tracked his phone, which is currently in Mykonos.”

“If he’s changed his mind again,” Rebecca whispered, “I’m going to look like an absolute asshole.”

“Well, there’s been no sightings of him anywhere,” Y/n continued scouring Twitter, “Doesn’t mean he’s not here…” she paused, flipping perspectives, “But it also doesn’t mean he is.”

“Maybe we can try and cheer them up somehow?” Keeley suggested, scanning the pack of bored reporters surrounding them.

Seated in the row behind them, Shandy popped up, “Do you want me to take my shirt off and run across the pitch?”

As Y/n attempted a deep breath, Rebecca smiled knowingly, “You must be Shandy.”

“Shandy’s shadowing Y/n and I for the day,” Keeley answered excitedly, “To get the hang of things, you know?”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Shandy greeted Rebecca, “I’d love to go for a coffee and pick your brain sometime. Like, how tall are you?”

Y/n glanced up from her phone to catch Rebecca’s confused expression, meeting her boss’s eyes and giving a thin-lipped smile.

“Shandy,” Keeley turned to her employee, “Would you go to concessions and start selling merch at half price?”

“Great idea,” Shandy smiled before back tracking the step she’d taken.

“Keep your shirt on,” Keeley directed sweetly.

“Right, of course,” Shandy nodded, patting Rebecca and Y/n on the shoulders, “Bye, babes.”

“She’s a live one,” Rebecca chuckled before checking her watch.

If anything was said after that, Y/n’s ears didn’t register it. All she could hear were the mumbles and murmurs of the reporters surrounding them. Where’s Zava? Is he ever coming? Did he change his mind? Her mind was working overtime trying to figure out how to dig their way out of this, in case he really had ditched them. She couldn’t stand to have another failure heaped on her shoulders.

Ted’s midwestern accent broke through the noise of her head.

“Hey, guys,” he whispered, taking Higgins’ empty seat, “Are we sure that Zava has the right address? I hate to think he’s sittin’ in the middle of Virginia right now waiting for us, you know?”

Higgins came walking back with an answer, “So, I just talked to legal about Zava’s contract. An e-signature is 100% binding. Tiny wrinkle, instead of signing his name, he signed, ‘You’re Welcome.’”

Y/n pursed her lips, “Lovely.”

“Shit,” Rebecca cursed, her nerves growing by the second, “What are we going to do?”

“Hey, look, superstars play by their own rules,” Ted replied, “Back in ‘98, I waited over three hours for Public Enemy to take the stage of this joint called the Cubby Bear. When a man with a giant clock around his neck is that late, it ain’t about time. He’s makin’ a statement.”

As much as it pained Y/n to take anything real away from another one of Ted’s rambling tales, he had a point. How many asshole celebrities made a crowd wait just to get a little extra ego boost?

“Right,” Rebecca slashed her hands through the air, “I’m calling it. We’re going to go upstairs and figure out what we do next,” she looked to Higgins next, “Leslie, I want you to talk to the crowd and tell them…something.”

“Of course, Rebecca,” Higgins replied calmly, “I got this. Back in uni, my deejay name Damage Control.”

“I didn’t know you deejayed,” Keeley commented.

“I didn’t actually, but I had the name ready if I ever started.”

Y/n was beginning to feel as frantic as Rebecca. “This feels like a great story for a later time,” she said, failing to totally hide her annoyance.

“Shit, right,” Rebecca rose from her seat, “Come on, let’s go.”

As Higgins made for the stage, Ted, Rebecca, Y/n and Keeley hurried past the press, trying to give reassuring grins. Nothing was out of the ordinary. This was the plan.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Rebecca huffed once they were safe within the building, “Why does anyone put up with this lunatic?”

“Because as humans, we adapt to accommodate genius,” Keeley answered.

“Genius doesn’t outweigh flightiness,” Y/n replied, walking in step with Ted.

“Who is the greatest actor alive?” Keeley continued, “Or was, before he retired?”

In tandem, Rebecca and Y/n both answered, “Daniel Day-Lewis.”

Ted veered off path, “Tony Curtis. You said alive? Jackie Chan. Wait, you said retired? Daniel Day-Lewis.”

“Exactly,” Keeley led them up the stairwell, pausing outside Rebecca’s office door, “When he gets into character, he stays in character and everyone else adapts to him. Did you know, that when he made Lincoln, he actually texted Sally Field as Abraham Lincoln?”

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” Rebecca dismissed the trivia, “Abraham Lincoln couldn’t text.”

“Exactly,” Ted agreed, “Every time he looked down, his hat would fall off.”

“Hey, listen,” Y/n chuckled, wondering if ADD was somehow formulated, bottled and pumped into the air of Nelson Road Stadium, “The distant sound of booing.”

“Look, this Zava might be a genius,” Rebecca passed Keeley to reach for the doorknob, “But he’s definitely a self-absorbed prick.”

Rebecca threw the door open to reveal the prick himself, seated at her desk as if it were his own.

“Your desk is covered in biscuit crumbs,” Zava stated.

Ted, Keeley and Y/n stood behind their boss, sporting various faces of shock.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Rebecca asked, breathless with rage, “We’ve waited two hours for you.”

This did not bother Zava. “Time is a construct,” he shrugged, “Like gender and many of the alphabets.”

“Get out of my chair,” Rebecca demanded, graduating to indignant as she marched towards her desk. She exhaustedly gestured to Ted, “This is your manager.”

“Hey, how you doing?” Ted greeted with his usual cheeriness, “I’m Ted Lasso.”

Zava and his new coach shared a grin with hands extended as they crossed the room. When they met in the middle, Zava slapped his hand to his chest and became gravely serious. Ted awkwardly did the same.

“My leader,” Zava said, “I am an empty vessel filled with gold,” he took hold of Ted’s arm with his free hand, “I am your rock. Mold me.”

Y/n ran the analogy through her head, coming up empty on logic.

Ted gave a low whistle, “Well, hey, if you score goals like you talk, we gonna be just fine, buddy.”

“Right. And this is Keeley Jones and Y/n Y/l/n,” Rebecca said, gesturing to the two women, “They handle all our publicity.”

Keeley was more willing to greet Zava than Y/n, whose steps toward the legendary footballer were justifiably hesitant.

“My queens,” Zava took each of their hands, pressing gentle kisses to both.

“Okay,” Y/n mumbled under her breath and fought the urge to pull away.

“My actions today have made your jobs much more difficult,” he said with, seemingly, genuine sorrow.

“No,” Keeley shook her head, “Don’t worry about it. No such thing as bad press, right?”

“My integrity disallows me to agree with that statement,” Zava replied with a warm smile.

“But there is such a thing as angry fans,” Y/n politely smiled, wondering how long she had to hold the man’s hand. She could hear Rebecca mumbling some curses under her breath as well.

From behind them, Higgins came through the door with Shandy in tow, going on about something related to Zava’s food allergies. They both froze as they registered the sight in front of them.

“You’re here,” Higgins gaped.

Zava nodded, “And you are there.”

“And this is Leslie Higgins,” Rebecca introduced, “Our director of football.”

“Ah,” Zava sighed, placing a hand on each side of Higgins’ face and pressing his forehead to his. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “You are the glue.”

The room stood in confused anticipation.

“Thank you very much,” Higgins replied. Out of the entire group, Ted was the only one still excited.

“I will go see the team now,” Zava announced, slapping Higgins cheek and heading down the stairs.

Rebecca stretched her arms out and yelled, “Do you even know where you’re going?”

“I do not,” Zava called back, yet kept walking.

Ted, Higgins, Shandy and Keeley looked back to Rebecca, Zava’s mere presence rendering them all speechless. Y/n was the only one matching Rebecca’s frown.

“Are you kiddin’ me?” Ted muttered, “Wowie zowie. You know what, maybe I oughta tag along in case he gets nervous. Seems like he can be a little bit of a wallflower.”

“Great,” Rebecca’s hands slapped against her sides, “And now I’m in a rush. Leslie, tell me, how did the damage control go?”

“Oh, it was a mess,” Shandy answered for the man, “But he was adorable.”

“Oh, thank you,” Higgins nodded, looking back to Rebecca and pointing behind him, “Who is this?”

Keeley came to stand at Shandy’s side, “This is Shandy, we work together. And she’s a great friend of mine.”

“Ah,” Higgins smiled knowingly, all the pieces falling together suddenly.

“Right, I’m off,” Rebecca said, gathering her purse and crossing the room. She paused at Y/n’s side, “If you can try and get His Mightiness to pose for a few pictures on the pitch, it would be appreciated.”

Y/n sighed, “No promises.”

Rebecca left on her unknown mission, Shandy and Keeley went on their way back to the KJPR office and Higgins went to oversee teardown. Y/n went back to the pitch, where the fans were packing it in and the reporters had all but left. She found the staff photographer and asked him to head to the practice pitch while she went and collected Zava.

Y/n knocked on the coach’s office and entered, pausing beside Trent Crimm in the adjoining room, “Can I borrow Zava for a few minutes?”

“Just missed him,” Roy replied.

“For the day?” Y/n raised an eyebrow.

“Yep,” Coach Beard nodded, him, Roy and Ted staring at something on their whiteboard.

“He just walked in here,” Y/n gestured from the door through the office, “Said his ‘hellos’ and’s just…done?”

“Seems that way, yeah,” Ted replied, somewhere between a smile and a straight line.

Y/n could only imagine what her face looked like, how her frayed nerves and barely concealed frustration were becoming more obvious by the second. She looked to Trent Crimm, silently begging him to tell her she wasn’t the only one who disapproved of the star footballer’s behavior. Trent replied with a reserved shrug and a stretch of his lips.

“Beautiful,” Y/n smiled as best she could, “If anyone needs me,” she turned on her heel and walked back out the door, “My head will be embedded in the drywall.”

—————————

It was a few days later and the media frenzy still hadn’t died down around both Zava’s arrival and his lack of public appearance. Y/n was fielding call after call from publications, requesting one-on-one interviews with the legend or asking when his first presser would take place or asking if the reason he didn’t show up was because he was having doubts about joining Richmond…

Better yet, Zava didn’t feel it necessary to speak to anyone.

He had, however, taken over the locker room. Four lockers had been reserved just for him plus a recliner. He’d gotten the boys to do group meditation each morning. He had the whole team eating out of the palm of his hand and to be honest, Y/n couldn’t understand why.

Thus, with Zava occupied, the focus shifted to the other Greyhounds. Keeley and Shandy had arrived to discuss interviews with some of the other players. Y/n had calls scheduled all afternoon, mostly about Zava, but also regarding a few potential endorsement deals for the boys. She was thankful for the solitude and her cheeks were pleased not to fake a smile around Shandy for the afternoon.

“Oh,” she said as she clocked Roy Kent passing her office, “Coach Kent.”

Roy reversed course and paused in her doorway, “Yeah?”

“Would you mind checking in with the guys downstairs? Keeley’s with them now,” Y/n asked, unable to leave her desk, “I would, but,” she gestured to her open laptop, a horde of new emails having just been delivered.

“Fine,” Roy replied, deadpan as ever before pausing, “You said Keeley’s with them?”

Y/n took stock of his expression, though it was nearly impossible to find whatever emotion he was actually feeling. She hadn’t seen the man smile once since she’d been at Richmond.

“Mm-hm,” she nodded.

He stayed silent, perhaps mentally preparing himself for the interaction, before nodding to Y/n once more.

“Uh, Roy,” Y/n called him back once more, fiddling with her pen, “Zava…he’s…worth it, right?”

Roy’s brows furrowed deeper, “What do you mean?”

“The fifteen calls I’ve been on today,” Y/n expanded, “The welcome event we had to cancel. The inevitable comments we’re going to have to walk back,” she paused, “He’s worth it?”

“Fuck yeah,” Roy shrugged, “Absolutely.”

While the two of them were barely acquainted, Y/n trusted Roy’s opinion. He knew football better than anyone else in the building. If he thought the headache was a worthy price to pay for victory, she’d learn to tolerate whatever chaos Zava caused.

—————————

Finally, the day of Richmond’s much anticipated match came around.

Upon arrival, Y/n made a point of confirming that His Majesty was actually on the premises, to which she was told he was in the locker room.

“Afternoon, all,” she greeted Rebecca, Higgins and Keeley as she slid into her seat.

“He is here, correct?” Rebecca asked, already a step ahead.

“There has been a sighting,” Y/n replied, a hint of a tired smile playing at her lips, “It’s packed. Did we sell out?”

“Just about,” Higgins answered excitedly, “I can barely feel my hands.”

Y/n settled next to Rebecca just as the first half kicked off. She clocked Zava in the middle of the field, in conversation with Jamie, before the two separated. Jamie kicked the ball to Zava, unremarkably, and Zava slammed his foot against it, sending it soaring across the field and into the goal.

The first fifteen seconds of the match and the crowd was already on their feet, deafening screams filling the stadium.

As Y/n celebrated with Rebecca, Higgins and Keeley, she thought back to Roy’s words earlier in the week.

“Alright,” she mumbled to herself, “Worth it.”

—————————

What Zava brought to Richmond wasn’t just talent, it was magic.

With each match they won, their standings in the Premier League went up and up. The entire city was buzzing, thrumming, with excitement every weekend they Greyhounds were on the pitch.

Not only that, but Y/n was getting more and more invested in the game herself. She paid closer attention to the players, predicting possible moves before they made them, and jumping to her feet when they scored. The inkling of pride she’d felt at the Chelsea match was beginning to bloom, and she found herself starting looking forward to spending weekends in the owner’s box with Rebecca, Higgins and Keeley.

It was the win against Brentford that cemented their six-game win streak, leaving the entire team, on and off the pitch, ecstatic.

After the match, Y/n slipped into her office, grabbing her laptop to take home and return a few emails.

“Oh, Y/n,” a voice called down the hall. Y/n looked up and saw it belonged to Sam.

“Hey,” she greeted, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” he grinned, “Listen, tomorrow night, I’ve invited everyone to the restaurant for a little preview. I would really love it if you could come.”

Y/n had successfully dodged every post-match invitation the boys had thrown at her. Be it not feeling well or extra work or a call from back home she had to take from some relative…her excuses had run dry. More importantly, she felt like a terrible person each time she had to leave Sam, almost always the inviter, disappointed.

If everyone was invited, it was more or less a work get-together. It wasn’t like it was just friends or a one-on-one hang.

“Sure,” Y/n conceded, “Sounds great.”

Sam’s smile broadened with the answer, making his hands into victorious fists. “I’ll send you the address.”

“Can’t wait,” Y/n replied, lying just one more time.

—————————

The next night, Ola’s was filled for the very first time.

All of the Greyhounds, the coaches and a few plus-ones were seated and partaking in the Nigerian cuisine Sam had ushered into Richmond. The setting was laid-back, but everyone was still riding the high of their win against Brentford.

Y/n had mostly stuck with Rebecca and Keeley at the bar, eventually bouncing around to a few of the players. While she was still reserved, the team and her had gotten to know each other more over the past six weeks.

“Sam,” Y/n finally caught the arm of the restauranteur, “This is incredible.”

“Oh, thank you,” Sam pressed his palm to his heart, “I’m so glad you are enjoying yourself,” he leaned in and lowered his voice, “To be honest, I was a little nervous what you all might think.”

Y/n waved off his concern, a glass of wine in her other hand, “It’s a smash. Be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you,” Sam smiled once more before leaving to go and check on another order.

Y/n paused and took stock of her surroundings, watching the cheerful conversations around her. Her gaze fell on a table in the corner of the second room, where Jamie was sitting by himself, looking particularly unhappy. Curiosity got the better of her and she made her way over.

Jamie looked up as Y/n approached. She didn’t say anything, so he decided to. “What’s that face?”

Y/n’s eyebrows remained scrunched, “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re pouting when you’re on a six-game streak.”

“I’m not-“ Jamie caught himself, he knew he wasn’t exactly being subtle. Shaking his head, he looked back down at his untouched plate, “It’s nothing.”

A loud laugh bounced off the walls, drawing Y/n’s attention down the line of tables to see it belonged to Zava. She didn’t miss how Jamie’s frown intensified at the sound.

“Let me guess,” she sighed, settling on the edge of the booth, “You’re not a member of the fan club.”

Jamie didn’t answer, glumly fidgeting with one of his rings instead. Y/n recalled that during one of their last games, Zava had stolen a goal from him. Jamie had yet to score a single one so far in the season.

“If it’s any consolation,” Y/n swirled the wine in her glass, “I can’t say I’m president of it either.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow at her, his interest peaked, “Yeah?”

“Aside from the fact that he’s made my job a thousand times harder,” Y/n complained, “I guess I just don’t…get him? I’ve caught the tail end of some of his locker room motivational speeches. It’s like he knows where he’s going the first few seconds and then takes his hands off the wheel for the last five.”

Jamie laughed, the first time he’s smiled all night. “You didn’t catch the one yesterday. Car went off a fuckin’ cliff.”

Y/n chuckled, covering her mouth to dampen the sound. “It’s like he loves to hear himself talk but doesn’t actually listen to anything he says…” Y/n grasped the air and twisted it, “But also believes he’s a prophet?”

Jamie shook his head with a smirk, thankful someone else could see what he saw.

“Still,” Y/n shrugged, her eyes scanning the Greyhounds around them, “He’s taking you guys to the top. That’s gotta feel good.”

Jamie’s smile straightened back out and he dragged his teeth over his bottom lip.

“Well, I’m sorry,” Y/n chuckled lightly, “Number 4’s a pretty big improvement from 20.”

“Yeah, but look how he’s doing it,” Jamie complained, “Stealing goals, prancing ‘round the field like some show pony-“

Y/n snorted into her glass, thankful she had yet to take a sip.

“What?” Jamie asked.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n smiled, really trying not to laugh, “It’s just when I started the job, I decided to look up some Youtube videos of the team. And I’m remembering this one hotshot player who never passed the ball to his teammates and did all these ridiculous things like rip his shirt off whenever he made a goal or chant his own name with the crowd…”

Jamie stiffened, he hadn’t expected the callback to his past.

“Whatever,” Jamie brushed it off, “Point is, things were fine without him and-“

“And I don’t think anyone’s less of a Jamie Tartt-head just because Zava Fever’s going around,” Y/n finished for him. She’d watched Jamie play for weeks now, she knew how talented he was. The infatuation with Zava would pass, but Jamie could build a legacy that lasted.

Jamie’s eyes, somewhat lost, tracked upwards to meet Y/n’s. One look told him that she truly meant what she said.

“Thanks,” Jamie nodded.

Y/n nodded, she hadn’t intended to have such an involved conversation, but Jamie was a neutral party. She didn’t feel one way or the other about him. Plus, he was the only other person who could admit to Zava having flaws.

“But just so we’re clear,” Jamie leaned over slightly, lowering his voice, “Still a prick.”

“Oh,” Y/n’s brow creased, “Definitely.”

They shared another hushed laugh.

“Hey, guys,” Shandy came out from around the corner and greeted them.

Jamie and Y/n both welcomed her, but after seven weeks working side by side with Shandy, Y/n was running out of enthusiasm to muster up.

“So, Jamie,” Shandy leaned against the corner wall, “Wanted to see if I could recruit you for this little Bantr campaign we’re running.”

Y/n recalled Keeley mentioning the commercial her and Shandy would be shooting that week. Some of the Greyhounds would be featured anonymously to try and entice people to sign up.

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Y/n politely smiled, finishing the last of her wine and leaving the glass, “Have a good night.”

“See ya,” Jamie nodded, shooting her a smile before returning to the conversation with Shandy.

Y/n made the rounds saying goodbye before heading out, stepping out onto the London street corner. There was enough nightlife around that she wouldn’t have trouble catching a cab.

“Hey, Y/n.”

She turned to see Ted standing a few feet away from her. “Hi,” she replied, they had hardly interacted all night, “Are you waiting for a cab?”

“Oh, no,” Ted shifted awkwardly, pointing back to the restaurant, “I’m, uh, waitin’ on someone.”

Y/n understood, unwilling to dig any deeper into the statement, “Got it.”

“Yeah,” Ted mumbled under his breath before perking back up, “You have a good time?”

“Yeah,” Y/n nodded.

“Good,” Ted smiled, “It’s good to see you gettin’ out of the office, hangin’ out with everybody.”

“Well, I mean,” Y/n chuckled awkwardly, “I think Sam just invited me because he had to. It’s not like it was a personal thing.”

Over the last few weeks, Ted had gotten to observe Y/n quite a bit. She stayed in her office as much as possible, she always took lunch on her own and the only thing she wanted to contribute to the conversation was small talk. She was removed and she wanted it to stay that way.

Ted knew there was a reason, though he wasn’t going to push to unearth it. But for Y/n to come out after hours with the team, to smile and laugh and let herself have a good time, it meant something. Even if she couldn’t see it.

“Okay,” Ted nodded, letting her think whatever she needed to think, “Well, do you need a ride home?”

“Oh, no,” Y/n replied, spotting a cab coming down the road and flagging it down, “I’m good. I’ll see you later.”

Ted smiled, sticking up a hand and waving as she climbed into the cab. If Y/n wanted to keep herself closed off from the Greyhounds, that was fine.

They could wait her out.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sabelcities

#ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #keeley jones x reader #rebecca welton x reader #ted lasso x reader #heartfirst

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wooahaes · 19 days

Text

this love is full of fairy tales

pairing: non-idol!felix x fem!reader

genre: fluff, romance, established relationship au. engaged au.

warnings: food. talks of marriage. vague mentions about having kids in the distant future. felix and reader being dorks in love.

word count: 1.8k~

daisy's notes: kinda reflected on some personal stuff while writing this one oopsie!! its not in the fic tho dw

As cheesy as it probably sounded, Felix loved the fact that you spoke with your hands a lot. Right now, it meant your engagement ring would catch the light every so often, and he could quietly smile to himself with a giddy joy that he was getting to marry you one day. The fact that this restaurant had intimate lighting only made the experience better in his eyes.

The waitress had been politely chatting with you as she prepared a pot of cheese fondue for the two of you, talking animatedly about her own husband once you revealed that the two of you were engaged. She had her own wedding stories to share, and advice to impart on the two of you in order to ensure a happy day. Felix just kept looking at you, smiling to himself at how pretty you looked in the low light. When he told you where the two of you were going, you’d dressed up with glee over the fact you had an excuse to look nice. Most of the time, the two of you went to casual places—or a place where the most ‘dressy’ you had to get was maybe a nice shirt and pants. This place was expensive and filling (the best of both worlds, in his opinion) and he knew you loved it from a prior visit a while ago… So why not?

The waitress left soon enough, and the two of you began to dive into the cheese course. Felix offered you a piece of bread from his own fork, watching the way you pulled it off with your teeth after a moment. “So…”

You looked up, hand cupped over your mouth as you chewed. “Mm?”

“We’ve talked about it before, but since you brought up the wedding…” He absentmindedly picked at food for a moment. “I was wondering how dress shopping has been going.”

“Ugh.” You frowned a little for a moment. “I mean—I like the dresses. But… I dunno. There’s so many, and some of them don’t look good on me when they look great on other people, and…” You trailed off for a moment, frowning. “Sometimes I just kinda wish you were there with me.”

“Do you want me to be?”

Pressing your lips together, you nodded. “At least to help me narrow it down. If it’s important to you, I won’t show you the final dress… But I’d feel better if I had you there to help me narrow things down.”

He reached out just to take your hand, kissing your knuckles before letting it go. “Then I’ll be there.” He paused for just a second, “Oh! Seungmin said he’d take our engagement photos. I figured we’d get someone else to do the actual wedding, but—”

“No, that’s great,” you beamed. “As long as he doesn’t mind.”

The two of you kept talking casually, both about the wedding and about other day-to-day things. Yet Felix’s mind kept going back to the day he proposed to you. He’d been talking to so many people about it. To his parents, who told him to follow his heart. Getting married around your mid-twenties wasn’t a bad thing at all, even if it did feel young at times: the two of you still had plenty of time to do other things if that was what you wanted (which Felix later realized was their subtle way of saying that there was no race for the two of you to have kids right away). He’d talked to his sisters about it, and they’d teased him but basically told him the same thing. Eventually, he had lunch with Chris and talked to him about it… followed by the two of them going to look for rings. Felix had your ring size written down, after all, and who else to help him pick something than the person right there with him.

“I think she’ll like whatever you pick for her,” Chris had said to him while standing over glass cases, staring down at different designs.

He nodded along. Felix had known for years that you weren’t picky with jewelry, aside from preferring silver over gold. Yet he couldn’t ignore the way his heart seemed to race in his chest, the realization that this was real having set in. He was going to propose. The two of you had talked about marriage again months ago, and you’d basically said you could see yourself getting married to him. Whether that be sooner or later, you were fine with either… and something in his heart said soon. If he was going to spend his life with you like he wanted to, then why wait? No one said he had to marry you immediately, either. If the two of you wanted to have a long engagement, then you could do that. He stopped when he saw this small ring that had tiny diamonds along the sides of it, alternating in this leaf-line pattern, with one slightly larger gem in the middle of it. It made him think of fairy tales, if he were honest. Dreamy. Romantic. Things that he associated with you for so many reasons.

Chris came up beside him, looking down at it. “This one?” He pointed, just to be sure he was following Felix’s line of sight correctly. “I think she’d love that one, actually.”

Every day, Felix was glad the two of you had separate accounts for things like this. One joint one for things like bills and shared expenses, but he liked knowing he could surprise you easily by dipping into his own account. The ring practically burned a hole in his pocket for weeks as he tried to plan out the best way to propose to you. He knew he was going to get at least one or two of his friends to record it happening, just so the two of you would have that memory together. He’d thought about proposing at a nice restaurant, much like the one the two of you were in now…

“Felix?” You called out, and then giggled when he came back to reality. “Hi, sunshine. Everything okay?”

It was. With you in it, it always would be. “Yeah,” he said. “Just thinking.”

“Oh?” Your voice held a playful lift to it, and he wished he could kiss that smile now. “You wanna share?”

You would tease him if you knew. So he shook his head, changing the topic to how work had been treating you lately. Things had been rough before, and you seemed happier, so…

And then he let himself drift back into that memory. The two of you had gone on a picnic together by the river. One minute, the two of you were in deep conversation… and the next he’d been texted that Seungmin was in place and ready to record as soon as Felix took you down to the river. It’d been easy enough to get you to come with him (and Felix glanced back to see Jeongin had sat down at the picnic spot once the two of you were gone, just to protect it while Seungmin tailed you), talking about the early days of your relationship. You had been so shy with him, but that was okay. He had been shy, too. He didn’t want to mess anything up with you.

And then he turned to you. “I really love you, you know?”

It earned a giggle from you. “I love you, too, you dork.” You drew him in for a quick kiss. “You’re sentimental tonight, huh?”

He had a speech planned. He had so much he wanted to say to you. And then he teared up, pulse racing as he reached up to wipe his eyes.

“Lixie?”

“I’m fine!” He said, “I just—” Fuck it. He took a deep breath and then got down on one knee, pulling out the box. “I was going to say so, so much more, but… I think I should just ask you already.”

You ended up crying, too. But you said that one magic word when he asked, and he slipped the ring on your finger. You gushed over it for so long, and ended up taking him to a store to have him pick out his own ring.

“It’s only fair, you know,” you had said to him, looking into the cases. “You should show something off, too.”

Even tonight, he noticed the way you kept noticing how his own ring would shine in the light. He cared for it so carefully, never taking it off for long unless he was polishing it. It was a gift from you, after all: he always took care of the things you’d get for him, regardless of how big or small they were. He noticed your own subtle smiles over it, too.

“Hey,” Felix said at one point. The cheese course had been cleaned up, and the two of you were enjoying your salads. “I know this is kind of random, but… I’m really glad I met you in this life.”

Your gaze softened so much as you watched him. “Oh… Felix.” Your foot brushed against his calf, a safer way to let him know you were listening instead of your usual way of taking his hand considering the built-in cooktop between you was still hot from the cheese. “I’m really glad, too.” Then your nose scrunched as you giggled. “God, it feels like you’re going to propose to me again.”

“Maybe I will.” He smiled at you, turning a fork between his fingers. “If they didn’t already know… We could have probably gotten something for free.”

It earned another giggle from you, one that he never wanted to stop hearing. He’d trade everything if it meant he could keep you as happy as he could for the rest of your lives. “I’ll stop bragging, then.”

“No, don’t.” He rested his head in one hand, just to admire you for a moment. “I don’t think I could, so… It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Do you brag about me?”

You were teasing him, but he’d always be honest. “I do,” he said with this soft smile. “It’s kind of hard not to.”

You sputtered for a moment, face growing hot, and immediately went to take a long sip of your drink. The two of you had been together for so long, and still he found ways to mess with you like this. “Yeah,” you said after you’d composed yourself. “Uh. Ditto.”

He snorted a little. “Ditto?”

“Don’t poke fun at me!” You pouted at him. “You know being sweet like that scrambles my brain.”

Felix just smiled, stabbing his fork into another piece of his salad. “I think it’s my job now to poke fun at you,” he said. “You’ll do the same, though. I know you.”

Again, your foot brushed against his calf. “Yeah… You do.” You relaxed once more. “And I will.”He wouldn’t trade it for anything else. Especially if it meant he could kiss you at the end of each birthday, mumbling a soft “Happy birthday, my star,” against your lips.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky

#wooahaes.fic #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagine #skz imagine #stray kids x you #skz x you #felix fluff #lee felix x you #lee felix fluff #lee felix x reader #wooahaes.24

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ofstardustanddreaming · 2 months

Text

a much needed pick me up

oneshot summary: (the request) when nanami picks up his firstborn girl from kindergarten, noticing she was kinda upset (him not knowing why), so he secretly thought of taking her out to a candy store, knowing that can cheer her up.

content warnings: none

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

character: kento nanami

female reader

anon request

a.n. - i'm sorry if this is a bit rough, i don't often write parent fics, but i hope this was okay!

Today, you were entrusting Nanami to pick up your daughter from school. You had some errands of your own to run, and you knew you wouldn't be able to pick her up like you typically would. You felt bad, but Nanami understood that your life was busy too. And it's been a while since he's picked her up, something he misses doing.

When he arrived at the school, he was checking his phone to see how early he was, but pleasantly surprised that he was there right on time. The children were being let out, and he kept a close eye out for his daughter.

He saw her running towards him, a warm smile taking a hold on his face as she came running towards him. He lowered himself to her level, pulling her in for the hug that she was wanting. He felt his heart cave in when he felt tears hitting his neck though, not wanting his daughter to feel sad.

"Missed you." She says into his neck, and his heart melts.

"Yeah, I missed you too. Did you learn anything in school?" He asks, trying to ease into a conversation about what might have happened to make her cry. She shakes her head against his neck as he starts to stand up from his position. He feels disheartened, unsure how to help his daughter.

He puts her in her car seat in the back, hesitating a moment, not wanting to get in the driver's seat yet.

"You okay, bug?" He asks, wiping a tear from her cheek. She shakes her head begrudgingly, not wanting to speak. "Did you want to talk about it?" She shakes her head again, and his mouth turns downward. He drops the subject, a little bit at a loss. She's never really had a bad day before, and might have trouble regulating emotions. He just wants to help, but isn't quite sure what to do at the step where she doesn't want to talk. He'd have to consult you for help.

But he knew of something that could brighten her day a little bit. There's a candy shop that's on the way to the park that you, Nanami, and your child frequent to let her play, and she often looks at the window excitedly, as often kids do, and points with some pleading to go in. You have been in there once to let her pick something out, but don't want to build the habit of constantly eating sweets. But Nanami thinks right now is an exception to the rule.

Your daughter doesn't really have a sense of direction at that age, so it really was surprising to her when Nanami pulled into an area she didn't recognize initially. But when she saw the walking path that you guys took to the park, she immediately perked up. She looked up hopeful at her dad, and he gave her a smirk.

"Come on, let's go to the candy store. I'll let you pick out a few things." He says, grabbing her by the hand to make sure she doesn't run off to far to get injured. Her excited shouts of glee made his heart warm up, glad to know his daughter was feeling a little bit better. He knows it isn't a permanent fix, but even for a tiny while he wants to see her mood improved.

When they had entered the shop, the jingling of the bells had signaled their entrance. He was hit by the smell of sweet candy, getting easily enticed himself to pick up some candy. His daughter took off, running to some of her favorite picks of candy, and some new ones she wanted to try. He gave a soft call of "careful" after her, keeping an eye on her as he picked some candy out for himself. He was also looking for some of your favorite candy as well, knowing exactly which ones you loved.

He walked towards the counter, making idle chat with the worker there since there weren't that many customers in the store, and he waited for his daughter. The worker giggled at her excitement, seeing how your daughter ran around as if she was on a sugar rush herself. She eventually moves up to the counter, holding up her goods to Nanami. She looks nervous, thinking she had grabbed to many sweets for him to agree too, but he takes what she had grabbed at puts them on the counter.

The cashier rings him up and he takes the bag in one hand when she presents it to him, where he then picks his daughter up with his other hand when she holds her hands up and asks to be held. It was a quick walk back to the car, and an even quicker back to the house, yet it felt elongated by the fact his daughter was back to being sullen. He was worried and wanted your input on how to help.

"Go see your mother." He says as he ushers your daughter through the door, and he feels his heart warm to hear her slight giggle as you excitedly greet her, the smell of dinner wafting through.

"How was school today?" Was the magic question from you, which causes her to burst into tears as she runs to her room. It leaves you befuddled, and you walk to the door entry where it's hidden from the kitchen, to see if Nanami knew why she was upset. He shrugs as he comes over to you to hug and kiss you.

"She was upset after school, she wouldn't say why. I stopped by the candy store to see if it could cheer her up at all, and she was happy. For a little bit at least." He catches you up, stating he'd hope you might know why if the school had called home to say why she might be crying.

You put down your cooking utensils, ushering Nanami towards your daughter's door as you both plan to figure out what the problem was. You both sat on the bed that she was on, curious as to what the issue could be. You pull your daughter up, pulling her into your side to comfort her.

"What's up bug? Bad day at school?" You ask her, and she looks up at you tearfully.

"I just miss you guys." She says, sniffling through the sentence. And you realize what this might be about as you make eye contact with Nanami, who was realizing it himself.

"Oh I see. We haven't had the chance to all hang together. We can change that though. I'm sorry bug, we've been busy with work, and you've had school. But we can change that now, where we can go to the park tomorrow if you'd like. And I know you got candy today, but maybe tomorrow we can go again. At least one more time. I know that's your favorite place." You tell her, and she slowly starts to beam.

"Really?" She asks softly, and you nod, while Nanami picks her up.

"Of course." He replies, which causes her to smile more. "I can always call off some evening shifts, we have been pretty busy lately. I'm sorry you've felt this way bug, and thank you for telling us. We'll always make time for you." He says smiling down at her, and over at you. Maybe the candy store will be the new spot to create happiness.

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autismtana · 5 months

Text

Chapter 31: the one where bread apparently causes serious medical emergencies

#glee #glee fanfiction #brittana #santana lopez #bspgtsotmi #glee chat fic #glee chatfic #brittany pierce #ao3

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othergaywarbler · 10 months

Text

new chapter!!!

#glee #ao3 fic #ao3 link #glee chat fic #chat fic #new chapter

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unholybinchicken · 1 year

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Chapter 11: the one with the inclusive bondage

#glee #glee fanfiction #glee chatfic #glee chat fic #bspgtsotmi

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eddiemunsonw · 4 months

Text

All I want...

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Summary: You weren't even thinking about him lately, when Steve asks you to help him chaperone at the school's Christmas Gala. You want to refuse, but you simply can't disappoint your teenage self.

CW/Disclaimer: No warnings I think? Just fluff. Or maybe I should warn that there's a little bit of a certain Mariah Carey song in there. I know some people have a passion to dislike that, so be warned!

Author's note: A Christmas fic? In February?? YES. Life got in the way, okay? Deal with it, it's still nice. I hope. If not, well. Eh.

Words: 4225

The fact that it was such a quiet Saturday at the coffee shop should have alerted you that something was bound to happen. Something weird. Something like your old classmate Steve Harrington stopping by and making a beeline for you instead of the register.

You hadn’t talked to Steve since you graduated, which was almost four years ago. To be fair, you had never really talked to Steve. Not unless he needed to borrow a pencil or wanted to check your notes (aka copy your homework). He knew you were smart, would tell you as such whenever he handed you your notes back. One time he even asked you for help with chemistry. That had probably been the day you talked to him the most. However, you were never friends. Just vague classmates, one who asked for favors and the other who people pleased her way through high school.

College had been in the plans, but instead you wound up working at the coffee shop for a summer job and decided that you liked the stability to save up for your own place. Besides, the work wasn’t terrible and you honestly had no idea yet what you wanted to do with your life. Your friends had all left for college several states away though and it had been a while since you had been chatting with someone your age, if you were honest. So the fact that Steve was currently talking to you not realizing you were very much not registering what he was saying? Not great. Expected though.

“Y/N?” Steve’s animated hand gestures faltered a little as you gazed blankly up at him.

“Sorry, I completely zoned out. You wanna order?”

“Uh… sure, why not,” he said hesitantly, as if he didn’t walk into the coffeeshop to get, you know, coffee. You both walked to the counter, each on one side and you turned on your heel to face him. You watched him expectantly and wondered what was up with him when he stared right back, instead of looking at the menu behind your head.

“Oh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “uhh… coffee?”

“Just plain black coffee?”

“Sure.”

“Alright…”

Steve Harrington was acting strange and you didn’t know why. Trying not to dwell on it, you prepared his coffee and set it in front of him. He placed a couple bills on top of the counter without waiting for you to mention the amount, still seemingly distracted.

“So… The Christmas Gala at Hawkins needs chaperones. We’re having a massive shortage and it’s my problem now, apparently.”

The what now?”

“Don’t act like I’m suddenly talking gibberish, Y/N. The Christmas gala. They need chaperones.”

“Okay…? That sucks,” you said, unsure why he needed you to know all of this. Of course, you should have known better. He was the guy who came to you when he needed something, after all.

“It would suck a lot less if you’d chaperone with me,” he hinted, giving you his million-dollar grin. You barked out a short laugh, causing Steve’s brow to twitch in subtle confusion.

“Yeah, no thanks,” you told him followed by a chuckle. “Can’t you ask your girlfriend or something?”

What? You were just curious. If he had one. It’s not as if that stupid crush you had on him in high school which made you so inclined to share your work and pencils was still there. Pfft. Not at all. Why and how was he even prettier than he used to be?

“Uhh…” he gave you an awkward look, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh.” Now why did that fill you with glee, huh?

“Please.”

Before you could respond, he was already walking around the counter, only giving you two seconds to back away as he took your hands in his.

“Please please please please please, I really don’t want to have to ask my ex.”

“Nancy?” Everyone knew about Nancy.

“No, she’s not even in town. No uh, another one. None of them, actually. It would be way too awkward.”

“And chaperoning with me, who you haven’t talked to for god knows how long isn't?”

“Huh? No. You’re my pencil buddy from high school! Nothing awkward about that? Come on!” He squeezed your hands for emphasis and gave you his best puppy eyes. Damn him.

“Also… why are your exes the only option? Surely you haven’t dated every—”

Steve gave you a look. It was both endearing and silly. So Harrington was still the same Casanova as ever.

“Oh come on?!”

“You know how I was in high school. I repeated a cycle of that when I just started teaching. Let’s just say some parent-teacher meetings are very awkward now.”

“Were they at least single?”

“Uh…”

“Steve!”

“To my knowledge?! I found out one wasn't during one of those blissful meetings. So yeah. You can guess how that went. Please, Y/N! You want me to go on my knees? I’ll do it, just say the word.”

When Steve was about to drop on his knees you quickly grabbed his arm to stop it and grimaced at the not so PG-13 thoughts that flooded your brain.

“No, no. No need. Fine. I’ll do it. On one condition.”

Stop it, brain. Don’t say it.

“Anything.”

DON’T.

“One dance.”

For fuck’s sake. You cursed your brain for not being on the same level as you.

“Oh, uhm, sure? Is that all?”

He sounded genuinely surprised and you regretted asking for a dance already. How pathetic were you, feeling the need to satiate your teenage self to get a dance from the one and only Steve Harrington?

“And you better have alcohol somewhere.”

“Naturally. Preferences?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure out something nice.”

Steve nodded and finally let go of your hands. Suddenly your hands felt way colder than they had before.

“Alright then… I’ll see you this Friday? Oh and, well I guess you know there’s a dress code.”

“Any theme? Wait… this Friday?”

“Uh, yeah! This Friday. Theme is Gatsby, I think. But any fancy dress will do. Or suit, if that’s your thing. My best friend Robin likes to—”

The bell above the door interrupted whatever Steve was going to say and he gave you a small nod as a bunch of teenagers walked in for a hot chocolate. After a small wave, Steve left through the door right before shouting “See you Friday!”, his coffee long forgotten.

Friday. You should have just said no. A loud sigh escaped through your firmly pressed lips when you eyed yourself in the mirror. The dress was nice, it was just… you’d gained some weight. It fit differently than it did the last time you wore it. Even though it still looked good, it was super flattering in fact, you couldn’t help but worry over what Steve might think. As if he would care. There was no way he cared even the slightest about what you looked like. He never expressed any interest in you and he never would and honestly? That was for the best. You two were way too different to work anyway. At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself. It was easier to shut these things down before they had a real chance to flourish in your mind.

Your decision to walk quickly became something you cursed your past self for as you felt your feet tire out. You weren’t even wearing the highest, thinnest of heels in the slightest, but you were used to your flat sneakers, so it was still an adjustment. As you made your way towards the school, you saw more and more fancy cars pass you by. It somehow made you feel like you were going to prom ten years late or something, with the way you were dressed.

The school was nicely decorated in a classic Christmas theme. Several Christmas trees filled up the hallway leading towards the gym. In true Hawkins Tigers fashion, the greens were decorated with ornaments and ribbons of gold. As you made your way down the hall you noticed that they even put some mistletoe here and there. The kids that passed you gave you weird looks, some mumbling to each other something along the lines of ‘who is she?’, while others simply gawked. Oh well. You arrived at the front where you could leave your coat, but there was no sign of Steve just yet. His laughter found you before his appearance did.

You recognized that type of laugh. It was the one he used when he was talking to a pretty girl. Why you knew this beat you as well. His voice grew louder and suddenly he appeared in the doorway. He was looking behind him, probably still talking to the woman that caught his interest, until you subtly cleared your throat. As his head turned, you noticed a slight widening of his eyes, before his grin followed and he approached you.

“Y/N! You made it!” he said happily, halting in front of you as he put his hands on your arms. “Again, thank you so much for this.”

You were certain he had already discarded his blazer somewhere, leaving him with just his black silk shirt and dark green dress pants. He looked absolutely beautiful, his hair neat in a boyishly styled kind of way. Playful yet suave.

“It’s my pleasure,” you said, though you could tell by his subtle snort that he didn’t believe you and honestly, neither did you. Yet, you wouldn’t have wanted to miss how he looked tonight for the world. His hands brushed down your arms and moved away just before they would reach your hands.

“Right, so, basically… the party’s in there, we look at young love blossoming and stuff and enjoy ourselves.” He waited a beat and then extended his arm towards your waist. “Shall we?”

You were surprised by his gallant way to guide you inside, considering you wouldn’t expect him to want to be seen with you like that. It was nothing, not really, but…

“So, turns out one of my exes is here. One I didn’t really end it badly with, for once,” he snorted dryly and gave you a painful smile as you met him with a near eye roll. “I was thinking… Maybe this is like destiny or some shit, right? I went out of my way to get someone else and yet there’s still an ex…”

Your eyes landed on all the women your age one by one until a blonde caught your attention.

“Let me guess… it’s the blonde over there?”

Steve made a funny face and nodded.

“Yup. Shelly. Looking as amazing as ever.”

You were nodding before you realized you were and sighed to yourself. As your eyes wandered, they landed on the table with drinks. Right, alcohol. You could use some of that.

“So… did you bring any?”

Steve grinned and looked around the room. “It’s in my blazer which is… somewhere. I’ll go find it.”

As he passed you, he gave your waist a gentle squeeze and you wished it didn’t give you so many butterflies. The kids seemed to look so much younger nowadays. It didn’t make you feel old, just not really accomplished in life either. Steve took quite a while, so you decided to leave your spot and wandered around the gym as you slowly tried to remember the kids’ faces. Something to keep you occupied. Just as you turned your route towards the entrance, you spotted Steve. Ah. The blonde, Shelly, was laughing way too hard as her hand landed on his arm. You doubted it was that funny. Not wanting to be too focused on him, you decided to turn your gaze away in search of a seat. The bleachers would do just fine. You made your way to the top, giving you a good overview of the room. The kids were dancing together adorably and from the looks of it no one was really left out, which made you feel a little warm inside. The music made you tap along with your heel subconsciously, so lost in thought that you didn’t even hear the stomping of Steve coming up the bleachers.

“Jeez, there you are! I’ve been looking for you!” he said, a little out of breath for some reason, which felt a little uncharacteristic for this sporty guy in front of you.

“Oh? Were you?” you asked with little emotion as you looked up at him. He frowned and quickly sat down next to you so you didn’t have to crane your neck any longer.

“I was getting the booze, remember?” he mumbled. You snorted as he uncovered it from under his blazer which he was carrying and handed it to you.

“Couldn’t let the kids see,” he explained as he heard your subtle reaction. You nodded in agreement and opened the flash, taking a gentle whiff of it.

“No poison?” you asked, side-eyeing him. Steve chuckled and then shrugged.

“Alcohol is kind of poisonous in a way, isn’t it?”

“I guess. So is life.”

Steve laughed softly. “So dark, jeez.”

When you barely gave him a hint of a smile, he nudged you.

“Hey, you good? Sorry if I was too pushy about asking you to chaperone, maybe I should’ve—”

With a quick head shake you dismissed him and smiled softly.

“No, it’s alright, my mood has nothing to do with that, I promise.”

“Then what… is it? Did something happen?”

You felt like an idiot for being jealous of Shelly. For being envious that his attention was on her and not you. As if you had any right to be jealous! It made no sense at all. You weren’t here as his date, you were here as his last resort. The sincere worry in his eyes made you hate your feelings even more. Who knew that being in the same room with Steve Harrington for the second time in a week was enough to rekindle your stupid crush on him.

“No, nothing happened,” you said with a soft sigh and then took a big swig of the flask before handing it back to him. Steve took a swig as well but never removed his eyes away from your face.

“Well, if you’re sure…”

He rested his arm against yours, shifted closer into your space even. After a moment, he nudged you gently.

“See those two? They’ve been dancing around each other in class for a year now. You can see they’re into each other, but neither of them dared to do anything about it. He asked her at last. It’s adorable, isn’t it? Those little shy smiles…”

The kids were adorable indeed, and so was Steve as he looked at them with the softest smile, almost proud. He probably was. While you were distracting yourself by focusing on the kids, Steve casually dropped his hand on your knee. You figured it was accidental, but then he started to caress you gently and you wondered if maybe he had had more alcohol before you arrived. You knew it meant nothing.

“So, about that dance—”

“So you and Shelly, huh?”

You both laughed as you had spoken up at the same time, though Steve’s brows quickly formed a frown when he registered your words.

“Me and Shelly?”

“Yeah. Any rekindling there? I saw how she looked at you. You looked like a couple of highschool sweethearts.”

“Oh, uh…” Steve chuckled awkwardly and removed his hand from your knee simultaneously. “I don’t know. She said it was good to see me, that was about it. Her kid’s gonna transfer to Hawkins soon.”

“Oh, that’s great! You’ll be seeing more of each other then,” you said with a smile, forcing yourself to be happy for him. It was better than to wallow in self pity at a kid’s dance.

“I guess… yeah. Anyway, I—”

“Steve!”

An older woman called for him, probably a colleague, so Steve had to excuse himself. He left the booze and his blazer with you and told you he’d be back. You doubted it. Shelly was already making her way back to him already the moment she caught him in her peripheral vision. It was so obvious she was trying to get back with him. Your eyes went back to the kids Steve pointed out earlier and you smiled when the girl rested her head on his shoulder. Who knew, maybe they’d become highschool sweethearts. You took another swig of the flask, swirled it around your tongue and swallowed to let it burn down your throat. Time got lost on you as you watched the joy in front of you. Most of the teachers were dancing too now, doing a neat job of multitasking while they chaperoned and watched for any illegal activities. Your eyes met Steve’s as he finally managed to get away from what seemed to be an endless conversation, and he tilted his head to the side, beckoning you to come.

With only some slight reluctance, you made your way downstairs. You had momentarily forgotten about Shelly, considering she had gone elsewhere when the older woman kept Steve occupied, until she suddenly stood next to him again. Somewhere between you minding your step down the bleachers she had managed to get all back up in his personal space. Hand on his chest, a flirtatious shoulder nudge… yeah. And Steve didn’t seem to mind.

So, instead of making a total fool of yourself, you approached him, arms outstretched so you could hand him back his blazer, and left him together with Shelly. You even managed an encouraging smile, which honestly gave you a bitter aftertaste. Steve’s eyes followed you out the gym, Shelly’s words falling on deaf ears as his own thoughts were too loud. Had you looked back, you might have seen the concern on his face, mixed with a layer of guilt.

As you disappeared through the doors, a slow song started up behind you. With a wry smile you made your way to the bathroom, which was around the corner on the left way down the hall. The music was loud enough to hear still, though it gave a somewhat melancholic echo, which actually fit your current mood quite well. It was fine, though. You just had to survive a couple more hours and then you and Steve would never be in the same room again and you could go back to pretending your crush on him ended with high school. With the slow song in the background, you took your time in the bathroom to make sure that by the time you went back, the upbeat music had hopefully returned. You weren’t in the mood to see him dance with someone else. After washing your hands two times (you had zoned out so much you forgot about the first time), you finally left the bathroom, only to be met with a pair of hazel eyes that could be mistaken for brown in the darkness of the hallway.

“Oh, uhm, hi?” you said, a little confused. Steve was leaning against the wall across from you, arms crossed, one leg up. His thigh looked deliciously meaty like that but… That. Was. Not. The. Point.

“Hey. You keep disappearing on me,” Steve said, sounding slightly accusatory.

“That’s not fair, I waited quite a while up there,” you shot back, giving him an easy smile.

“Yeah… Ms. Tracy always has a dozen stories to tell, I honestly don’t even remember what she called me down for in the first place. Anyway, no, I meant, when you came down. You suddenly just dropped my blazer off and went? I was hoping you’d be back in time to catch a part of the slow dance song but… no sign of you. So I went to look.”

“Ah, I just didn’t want to interrupt you and Shelly, if I’m honest,” you tried to say as casually as possible.

Steve frowned and pushed himself off the wall. He hung his blazer over the radiator and took a few steps towards you. You felt the heat radiating off his body and inhaled purposefully slowly to prevent yourself from gasping. He smelled really good, too.

“What’s the deal with you constantly mentioning me and Shelly as if there’s anything happening?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“I mean… You were the one talking about destiny. I thought I would only be in the way.”

Steve snorted and shook his head.

“Oh come on, I just meant that I can’t escape my exes. I was just grateful it wasn’t someone that hated my guts,” he said with a soft chuckle, shaking his head once more.

“She sure doesn’t,” you mumbled dryly. Steve smirked and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Wait… are you jea—”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” you quipped, nervously and a little agitated. Steve’s smile only grew wider as he closed the distance between you two.

“Oh you are. Is that why you asked for a dance?” he asked as he gently took your hands in his, which you could only comply with, “you… like me, or something?”

“Or something. I think I could actually strangle you about right now…”

“Hm? Why’s that?”

It wasn’t really a question.

“You look way too smug for your own good.”

Steve laughed and dropped one hand to your waist, shaking his head.

“Nah, I’m just relieved it’s mutual. I really thought you were pushing me in Shelly’s direction because I had misread everything and you wanted nothing to do with me. Like, I put my hand on your leg and you brought her up instantly!”

“I was panicking! I didn’t want to get my hopes up!”

In the background, “All I Want For Christmas Is You” started playing. Steve slowly started to nudge your hips, helping you sway along with him as he pulled you against him. His smile grew softer, his touch gentler, his eyes calmer, though still a little mischievous. He opened his mouth.

“I don’t want a lot of Christmas…”

“You’re not serious,” you whispered with a soft chuckle. Steve nodded vigorously, grinning again.

“There is just one thing I need…”

You just let it happen. You couldn’t stop him, you didn’t want to stop him. He looked so pretty, so cute, so handsome as he softly sang the words to you. It was more of a low, rumbled whisper. It was perfect.

“I don’t care about the presents… underneath the Christmas tree…”

His hand dropped from your waist so his other could turn you in a gentle spin, after which he deftly caught you in his arms, your back flush against his chest. You felt his heart beating fast, not at all as calm as he made himself seem.

“I just want you for my own… More than you could ever know…”

His hand came up to push your hair to one side as his lips gently brushed the exposed part of your neck. You shivered pleasantly, craning your neck as you rested your hand on top of his around your waist.

“Make my wish come true…”

His lips deliberately pressed soft kisses along your neck now, accompanied with pleasant hums that left him. He was driving you insane.

“Steve…”

Steve shook his head, needing to finish the bit.

“All I want for Christmas… is you…”

A kiss right below your ear.

“Can I, Y/N? Can I have you?”

You wanted to turn your head to look at him but he quickly rested his chin on your shoulder so his hair would shield most of his face from you.

“Steve, I—”

“Please reject me quickly if you’re gonna do it,” Steve muttered, his voice muffled. You wondered what was going on in his brain for him to think you’d let him kiss your neck like that if you weren’t the slightest bit interested. Had you not just confessed earlier? A chuckle escaped you.

“Don’t be silly. I’m just— confused, I guess? When did you… Is this, when?”

Steve sighed, making you turn around in his arms slowly so he could face you.

“We didn’t need chaperones at all, as you may have noticed. I just… the past few dates I’ve been on were such disasters, and I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while now but I felt like I would fuck it up with a date somehow? I don’t know. And then this came up… and I thought maybe I could show more of me, in a different setting? But then everyone and their mother interrupted me all the time and you encouraged it too so I thought all hope was lost until you let me kiss your neck I guess. Am I rambling? I am rambling. God I spent too much time with Robin and Eddie.”

“Steve,” you said softly, smiling up at him.

“Yeah?” His smile matched yours, hopeful, yet still unsure. Who knew that someone like Steve Harrington could be insecure? I mean, of course, it happens, but… it was a surreal sight to witness.

“You can have me.”

Steve’s grin had never been wider.

“Oh— Good. I’m gonna kiss you now.”

And true to his words, he cupped your cheek gently with his big, warm hand, and settled his soft lips onto yours for a sweet, Christmas kiss. Hell, you didn’t even need a mistletoe.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fanfics #joe keery

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