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freelancearsonist · 2 months

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Hold Me Like a Knife

Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Rated MA for p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjobs, smoking/nicotine use, excessive drinking, characters not knowing how to handle emotions properly (same), ANGST [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

6,003 Words

A/N: thank you to the lovely @shakespeareanwannabe for being my ever faithful beta reader ily 🥺

Smoke disperses in abstract swirls from Joel’s parted lips, the tang of nicotine making his taste buds prickle. It’s been a long time since he’s been afforded the luxury of a cigarette and this first drag makes him think he might not want to pick the habit back up, after all. But you worked hard to find these for him after he mentioned he missed having a smoke, and he’s not one to let a gift go unappreciated. Especially now that gifts are off the table.

It’s become routine at this point. Waking up in the middle of the night; reaching for you, realizing all over again that you’re not there anymore; ruminating on what’s happened, how he’s taken you for granted. At least he has his cigarette to keep him company.

There’s no chance of going back to sleep for him–it’s 4AM anyway, close enough to a full night’s sleep. He takes another drag and decides it’s not as bad anymore. He just needs to get reacclimated to it.

He only allows himself to savor half the cigarette before he stubs it out in the ashtray on the nightstand–another gift from you–to save for next time he needs it. He wants to make this pack last; he doesn’t care as much about maintaining the habit as he does about having any little piece of you he can.

Two hours later, he’s bathed to the best of his ability given the stunted resources in the quarantine zone and ready for another day in hell.

He didn’t hate it nearly as much until he started working with you again.

When you see him you wear the same soft smile you always do, nodding your head in greeting as if nothing is wrong. His face remains flat as he nods back. Nothing he can do but play along–pretend you were never his to lose in the first place. After all, if you haven’t heard his heart fracturing into a million pieces by now, you never will.

“Either quit starin’ or go over there and talk to her,” Tess tells him sternly. He immediately snaps his eyes away and tries to shoot her a glare, but he’s a bit too embarrassed for it to actually land.

“M’not starin’,” he grunts.

She actually almost cracks a smile at his denial. “The hell you’re not, you look like a lost puppy. Why don’t you talk to her?”

“She ain’t interested in talkin’.”

“Bullshit. That’s all she wants.”

Maybe Tess is right. Maybe he’s the one who’s afraid. He’s not going to admit that, though.

“If she wanted to talk to me, she’d come talk to me.”

“You probably scared her off.”

Joel slams his hand against the wagon bed, startling everyone within a ten meter radius except Tess. “That’s enough.”

“Touchy.” Tess rolls her eyes but backs off nonetheless, not interested in poking the bear any further.

Joel lets it go and turns his attention back to his assigned job for the day, mentally preparing himself for another night of washing the stench of death from himself and his clothes. Normally, you would do it for him without complaining. Now it’s just another addition to the list of efforts he didn’t appreciate enough while he had you.

Even though he dreads the consequences, he allows himself to become completely preoccupied with his work in a way he normally wouldn’t. It’s a reprieve from the constant swirling of his mind, from the overthinking that keeps him up at night or invades his dreams when he finally finds rest.

The day is over far too soon, and then he’s back in his little apartment with nothing but his own mind for company.

His mind hasn’t been a friend lately.

He looks around and everywhere his dark amber eyes catch, he sees you. You sprawled on the worn couch underneath a threadbare blanket, you swaying your hips to the rhythm of silent music in the kitchen, you casually dropping the towel wrapped around your naked body to the floor as you step out of the shower and lure him down the hall to the bedroom.

He wants to crawl into a deep, dark pit when he remembers what he said and how he chased you away. Your only sin was introducing him to someone as your man, and he played like he was upset about it because that’s not what this was ever supposed to be. There had been an agreement, in the beginning, that feelings wouldn’t be involved. It would be you, him, separate, occasionally helping each other out.

It so quickly turned into you and him, so inseparable you were practically living together. Neither of you even tried to stop it despite the agreement. And Joel was fine with it, liked it even. Until it was put into words.

Because he’s not supposed to be anyone’s. He’s Joel Miller, and he’s not deserving of belonging to anyone; including himself.

He didn’t mean to push you away. It was more out of instinct, an inborn urge to self-destruct.

The instinct has won, because he feels like mere pieces at this point. Like you’ve taken a sledgehammer to his heart repeatedly, which really isn’t fair to you. Space was his decision–you didn’t even fight it.

With a third of whiskey in his hand and an ache in his jaw from having it unconsciously clenched so long, he slumps down on his time-worn couch and begins a long night of rehashing mistakes and feeling bad for himself.

It could be so easily fixed if he just swallowed his pride. It’s a competition of will at this point–a game to see who can survive without the other for the longest. He hates that he’s losing, that it’s not affecting you; that even though it was his choice, he’s the one who’s suffering the most.

He must spill his drink–although he can’t find where it possibly could’ve been spilled, everything around him is dry–because it’s gone within a few minutes. He allows himself another glass as a reward for surviving a particularly shitty day.

When he comes to in the morning, there’s a pounding in his head so loud that it drowns out any other sound he might hear. It takes him a moment to realize that the pounding is on the door–then he processes how blinding the sun is coming through the slats of the tattered blinds precariously hanging over the window.

Joel pushes himself up from the couch with a grunt and stumbles a little, nearly falling right back into place. He curses himself for becoming such a lightweight as he stomps his way over to the door and throws it open.

“Jesus Christ, you reek,” Tess chokes, pushing past him to make her way inside. “I’ve only been knockin’ for ten minutes, what the hell were you doin’?”

“Sleeping,” he tells her with a pointed glare. It doesn’t ruffle her at all–it never does.

“Missed morning shift,” she notes. “How much you have to drink?”

“Not enough.”

“Alright, that’s it,” she tells him with a sigh. “It’s time to stop with the pity party if you’re not gonna play the hand you’re dealt. You know how stupid you’re being? She wants you. You want her. Two words’ll fix the whole thing and you’ll go right back to bein’ the disgusting little lovebirds you are. Apologize.”

“No,” he insists without thinking it over. Because he knows she’s right–he owes you an apology. And he also knows you’ll take him back the instant he delivers.

Which is exactly why he can’t. He knows he doesn’t deserve another chance to take you for granted. He didn’t appreciate you enough when he had you, and you deserve to find someone who will. Asking for another chance would be the most selfish thing he’s ever done, and Joel Miller is not a selfish man.

“Then drink yourself to death.” As much as Tess plays at being frustrated with him, he’s never seen her this legitimately upset. “I’m done cleanin’ up for you. You’re acting pathetic, Joel Miller. Get yourself together or get yourself over.”

And before he can stop her, apologize, beg, plead, do anything besides bite his tongue in pure shock, she’s gone. The slam of the door rings through his head for a good minute longer than it should.

All he can do is slump like a sack of potatoes onto the couch, his center of gravity off balance from the weight in his heart and the churning in his stomach.

It was never supposed to be like this; it was never supposed to get this far. You were supposed to fight him, demand he stay, do anything to make him feel like you really want to be with him. Instead, you acquiesced without resistance. You listened to his offer of space and accepted without hesitance. Almost like you were looking for an out.

That’s what hurts most, maybe. That you can still afford to smile at him like nothing ever happened between you when he feels like he’ll never smile again.

He knows he can’t lose Tess over this–she’s the only friend he’s got and a damned good business partner. He knows it’s time to clean up his act. What he doesn’t know is if he actually can without you by his side.

Baby steps. He decides to start by showering and changing his clothes; the freshness should make him feel astronomically better.

He lets the limited hot water run over his sore muscles and through his hair, trying to wash away memories of you along with the dirt and grime.

He thinks of long nights spent sneaking out after curfew–his pack heavy on his aching shoulders but barely feeling it when you’re so near. He thinks of nights in this apartment together, hours and hours spent reminiscing and planning new trips and even more hours spent in comfortable silence. He thinks of you on your knees in this very shower with him, of how he felt akin to a god beneath your praise and worship.

He lets the thoughts swirl for just a moment, and then he watches as they trickle down the drain.

A towel off and a change of clothes later, and he’s almost a new man. The hole in his chest has shrunk a bit, at least.

One deep breath, then another. Joel can almost feel you slipping through his fingers, and for once the sensation doesn’t terrify him. There’s a quiet solitude, a resignation to his mind now. He’ll never be happy, and that’s okay. He might at least be able to find peace if he can’t have you.

He finds Tess and apologizes–at least in the best fashion Joel Miller can manage. It’s a grunted “sorry” and not much more, but it’s enough.

And then, because he has nothing else to do with his free time, he throws himself completely into survival. Working long shifts at the fires during the day, and even longer shifts as a smuggler at night. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes deepen and his hair grays rapidly, but he finds a way out. He finds a way away from you, and he doesn’t hesitate to take it.

Somehow, you beat him to Jackson. He doesn’t know how–he’s sure you were still in Boston when he left–but you’re waiting there for him when he arrives.

Waiting maybe isn’t the best way of putting it; you look at him like you’re looking at a poltergeist. Not just a ghost of your past, but a volatile and unpredictable one at that.

He can’t blame you. He ditched you, after all–not just emotionally, but physically.

You observe from afar for a while, like a timid animal meeting its first human. You watch his reunion with his brother, how he seems to fit like a puzzle piece into such a tight knit community. You even see him interacting with the young girl he’s brought along with him, and you wonder if he’s changed. If maybe he’s allowed his heart to open even just the slightest fraction.

The whole of Jackson gathers to greet this newest member, and you’re on the very edge of the crowd. But it’s like there’s an invisible string connecting the two of you—like the sea of people parts to make a path for your reunion.

Joel doesn’t know what to say. It’s been so long, and yet it feels like just yesterday he still had you in his arms.

You nod at him and awkwardly shuffle your feet against the cracked pavement. ”Hey.”

”Hey.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching for you.

You don’t show the same restraint.

In mere seconds you’re on him, arms around his neck and lips pressed to his like he’s air—like if you don’t breathe him in you’ll die.

He grunts in surprise at the suddenness, but more at the fact that he can’t believe this is happening. That you’re really here, really in his arms, really kissing him. He doesn’t know if it would be better to talk through everything first, but he’s missed you so badly that there doesn’t seem to be another way to communicate it other than to show you. His hands settle on your waist and pull you tightly against him, lips parting to allow your tongue access. It’s harsh and it’s frenzied, but it’s beautiful in the way a force of nature is.

And then you remember the prying eyes surrounding you and you reluctantly pull out of his grasp.

There’s a bit of muffled conversation and a particularly loud wolf-whistle from Tommy before the crowd disperses, and you’re alone together for the first time in more than a year.

”Sorry—“ “That was—”

He clears his throat, and you nod in signal for him to take his turn.

“How did you get here?”

“It was a fluke, really. I caught a radio broadcast and decided to check it out. The QZ didn’t feel like home anymore after you left.”

Joel tries as hard as he can not to read too far into that, but he can’t help the fleeting hope that it means you wanted to fix things. That maybe you weren’t as unbothered as you always seemed to be.

You clear your throat and continue. “But… what about you? Who’s the kid? Where’s Tess?”

”I’m takin’ the kid to the fireflies. Tess is gone.”

Your face falls instantly. You’ve admittedly always been a little bit jealous of Tess and her closeness to Joel, but you never wished this upon her.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Joel grunts noncommittally, and you’re left to awkwardly shuffle your feet while you think of something else to say. You’ve spent so much time apart, there should be so much more to talk about. But even in the QZ, talking was never your speciality—and it definitely wasn’t Joel’s. More than anything with him, you’re familiar with the comfortable silence that surrounds two people who’ve spent a lifetime together. Your lifetime with Joel just happened to be over the span of a couple of months; but that’s how it goes with someone who matches you so completely. There doesn’t have to be anything said when he already knows what you’re thinking—when you’re two parts of a whole.

”Sorry. About kissing you. I… I’m normally better controlled,” you mumble.

”Don’t be.” He clears his throat, shifts his feet—does everything within his power from making eye contact with you because he knows if he does he won’t be able to stop himself. “Wasn’t bad.”

”We did agree we weren’t gonna do that anymore,” you point out.

”That was back in the QZ.”

”And here?”

The hope in your voice is unmistakable. You’ve missed him, and that’s almost impossible for him to comprehend. Joel wants nothing more than to lean into your hope; to give you—and him—exactly what you want. You’ve missed out on so much time, and there’s little time available to make up for it.

Fuck it, he decides. “Here? I’m pullin’ my head out of my ass.”

And then he kisses you, and it’s not sweet. It burns—with passion, desire, regret. He presses his lips to yours like he’s finally realizing what he’s lost and might never get back. Joel Miller isn’t a man who can say sorry easily, but he says it to you now with his lips, and his tongue, and his hands.

It feels like you’re learning him all over again. You marvel at how tall he is, how broad his shoulders are as you run your palms across them. You revel in the softness of his lips and the contrasting scratch of his patchy beard. More than anything, you’re in awe of the feeling of his hands—how familiar they feel even after so long as they trail down your neck from your face on the way to your hips.

You pull away sooner than you want to, but you both seem to realize that you can’t just snog in the middle of the street. Most of the crowd has cleared out by now, but there’s a few sets of wandering eyes to worry about.

“Tommy didn’t happen to show you your house, did he?”

Joel’s brow furrows in the most adorable way as he suddenly becomes aware of his surroundings.

“I have a house? Is that where he’s taken Ellie off to?”

“C’mon, follow me.” With a wave of your hand, you’re headed down the street. Joel stands frozen in disbelief for a moment, utterly dumbfounded that you’re really here and really still want him the way you used to. He has to jog the few steps to catch up to your side, and then every ounce of effort goes into not grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

You clear your throat in preparation for the question you have to ask. “I… I swear I don’t want to push labels or anything, but… what exactly is going on here?”

Joel sighs, and it’s easy to mistake it as a sigh of annoyance. You open your mouth to expand on your question, but he stops you.

”I made a mistake. I know it, I knew it while I was makin’ it. But I didn’t stop myself because… because you deserve better.”

You open your mouth again, and he holds up a hand to stop you. “Don’t argue. You know it’s true. And the thing is… I’ve spent a lot of time bein’ selfish, if fightin’ to survive can be called that. You’re good, and I don’t deserve to be selfish when it comes to you.”

”I want you to be selfish,” you insist as firmly as you can. “Joel, you don’t seem to understand how much I adore you, how much I rely on you. How much it hurt to lose you.”

He tries to shrug, but it’s half-hearted. There’s a kind of sick satisfaction to the fact that you were struggling just as much as he was. ”You seemed fine.”

”I was dying, Joel.” There are tears in your eyes now, and he feels guilty for insinuating that your pain wasn’t real.

”I was, too.”

”I just wish you would’ve talked to me,” you whisper. “I could’ve made it better. Things could’ve been different.”

”But they aren’t.” His tone is firm, but not malicious. He’s not trying to be mean—all he wants is for you to understand that there’s no point dwelling on the past. It’s something he’s learned over twenty years; that no matter how hard to focuses on all the mistakes he’s made and the things he regrets, there’s no way to undo any of them. No point in focusing on them at all, really.

”I… I miss you,” you tell him. “I don’t wanna keep going to bed alone and waking up wishing you were there. I don’t want to pretend we’re just friends with benefits or whatever the fuck we were supposed to have been. I don’t want to lose you over any more stupid arguments. I loved you, Joel. I still do.”

Joel swallows thickly. He’s known for a long time how he feels, and he also knows he doesn’t deserve to feel the way he does. Telling you might be the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. ”I love you too.”

”Then can we… stop being stupid?” There’s a giggle behind your tears, and it brings the smallest of smiles to his face.

”Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” He kisses you again, pausing on the steps of the house he’s supposed to occupy so he can pull you tightly into his arms. This one is sweeter, almost like a promise. Like he’s going to be a new man and this is his seal of authentication.

He scoops you up in his arms despite your squeal of protest, barely pausing enough to read the note on the door.

Took Ellie on a grand tour. We’ll meet y’all at dinner. - Tommy

You glance at your watch, then look up into his eyes. He’s thinking exactly what you are; his dark eyes are burning with tension. ”A whole hour of pure uninterrupted bliss. What’re we gonna do with ourselves?”

”I’ve got a couple ideas,” Joel grunts as he pushes the door open with his back, careful not to jostle you too much. “Startin’ with makin’ up for lost time.”

This time, he kisses you like you’re unbreakable. Like he’s diamond and testing your hardness, and you’re determined to meet his standards. You meet his lips with ferocity and take the initiative to slide your tongue over his bottom lip, reveling in the slight uptilt of his lips as he parts them for you.

You’re still in tune to his reactions, even after so long. You still know exactly where to pull his hair to make his hips buck towards you, where to kiss his neck to make him moan, where to place your hands so he’ll pull you impossibly tighter against him. He’s a puzzle you solved long ago, and even after taking the pieces apart you know where to put them back together again.

Joel’s head is all but spinning as he pulls you deeper inside, ignoring the urge to explore the unfamiliar surroundings for now in favor of finding a place that’s suitable to take you. He’s feverish and hurried, far from gentle because he knows he doesn’t need to be. You’re taking everything he’ll give and more. Later, there will be time for the gentle love-making that he admittedly prefers sometimes. For now, it’s desperate, wild, overwhelming in the best way possible. It’s getting reacquainted after so much time apart—old lovers using old tricks.

His hands have gotten rougher and even more calloused, but they remember you like it’s only been days since they were last on you. His palms trace every curve like you’re precious art. He holds you like water, like the slightest mishandle will send you spilling away from him; in complete contrast to the way he kisses you, harsh and nearly biting. It fogs your mind, sends you into autopilot. Your muscle memory takes command as you strip him bare and toss his clothes to the side, appreciating how little he’s changed besides the length of his hair and the extra gray that’s sprouted. He’s still your Joel, even after being apart for what seems like a lifetime.

”I never appreciated you enough,” he whispers into your neck as he unhooks your bra with a snap of his fingers. “Never worshiped you the way I should’ve.”

”I’m not a god,” you tell him, breath heavy even after parting from his lips.

”You are to me,” he mumbles into your skin, contrasting the honeyed praise with a stinging bite to the precise spot that makes your back arch.

He trails gentler bites down the flesh of your torso, leaving marks that contrast his statement. Gods aren’t meant to be owned, and yet he claims you in every way he can. He lays on you any little trace of his possession he can, because he knows how easily it could be taken away from him. He lost you once before, marks faded from your skin completely. He doesn’t ever want it to happen again.

The scent of you is heady, mouth-watering to a mind that was so sure it would never have you again. He knows he’s pressed for time, and he really does consider taking all of it to drink from you; to get his fill and leave himself unsatisfied if he has to.

But you’re whining and squirming, tugging at his hair in a feeble attempt to pull him up to you, and he knows he’d much rather give you what you want.

You’re wet enough to take him, but it’s still nearly painful when he pushes his full length into you for the first time in so long. He growls at the sensation, at every little pulse and flutter of your cunt around him as you struggle to accommodate him.

Your breath is airy and whiny as you glance up at him. ”Joel…”

”I know baby,” he coos, fighting for restraint so he doesn’t hurt you. “I know it’s a lot. But you can take it pretty girl, can’t you?”

You would take literally anything so long as he keeps talking to you like that.

You nod up at him, but it’s not enough.

”Words, honey. Tell me you can take me.”

He doesn’t miss the way your cunt contracts around him as you vow, “I can take you, Joel.”

”Atta girl.”

He starts off easy, slow enough not to overwhelm you but deep enough to nearly make you choke. His hips are flush with your ass at the base of every stroke, like he’s trying to push even further with each thrust of his hips. Maybe he is. Maybe all he wants is to get deeper and deeper until there’s nothing left out—until you’ve consumed him completely. He already feels halfway there as it is.

Your legs wrap around his waist in a desperate attempt to que him in on what you need—not long, languid strokes but hard, fast thrusts that’ll get the job done quickly. There is a time constraint to factor in, after all.

He grants your wish instantly, glad for the invitation because he’s finding it hard to continue his facade of self-control. He ruts hard and fiercely, one hand trailing from your waist to your knee so he can prop your leg up and allow an even deeper angle.

With the slightest shift of his hips he finds it—the spot that makes you writhe and scream for more. He revels in all the noises you make for him as you toss your head back and forth, like the pleasure is so overwhelming that you want to squirm away yet press closer simultaneously.

“That’s my girl,” he mumbles as his free hand finds its way between your entangled bodies. It’s almost like you’re magnetic, his fingers find your clit so easily. The small, firm circles he rubs against it with his calloused fingers are almost too much, but also almost not enough. Not until he picks up his pace, drilling into exactly where you need him with a fervor you didn’t even know he possessed.

It takes all the effort you can muster to warn him, ”S-so close…”

”I know sweetie,” he purrs, breath heavy against your ear as he shifts his hand to hitch your leg just the slightest bit higher over his hip. “It’s okay. Let go f’me.”

You’re nothing if not obedient, and Joel knows it. It’s only confirmed by the way you squeeze around him in a vice grip, legs shaking in his grip as your eyes practically roll back in your head. It’s bone-shattering pleasure, like he’s pulling you apart stitch by stitch and sewing you back together again with newer, more pleasurable fabric.

He’s quick to pull out, maybe a little prematurely as you’re still twitching with the aftershocks of your own orgasm, but even his pleasure-addled brain knows the risk he runs if he stays buried deep inside you any longer. He gives himself two, three firm strokes, then allows himself to spill over your stomach in thick, hot ropes that make you moan all over again.

He doesn’t hold himself up much longer before collapsing on the too-soft mattress with a heavy grunt.

”Missed this,” you murmur next to his ear as he drapes an arm over your waist. He pulls you in close and hums at the way you nuzzle your face into his neck despite how sweaty he must be.

“How much time we got left?”

You take a peek at your watch, then groan. “Five minutes.”

”Shit.” He’s not ready to let you go yet, but he pushes himself up to sit on the edge of the bed anyway.

”We could just skip dinner,” you suggest with a hopeful pout to your lips as you stretch out further over the floral bedspread.

As much as he wants to… “Can’t. Gotta grab Ellie. Can’t leave her alone all day.”

”You must really care about her.” There’s no malice to your tone—it’s more surprise.

He simply grunts in response—he’ll never admit it, but he can’t deny it either. “C’mon. Clothes on.”

He gathers the pile from the floor and tosses it to you, practically burying you where you lay.

”Forgot how bossy you are,” you grumble but follow the instruction nevertheless.

It’s a little awkward, sitting across the table from your lover’s family like your legs aren’t still a little weak from being so thoroughly fucked. But Joel’s hand is a constant on your thigh, and you even catch him smirking a little as Ellie grills you with a million questions—mostly about your relationship with Joel.

For once, everything feels normal. For once, you forget about the crumbling world around you. In this bubble with Joel, everything is stable and secure. There’s a future on the horizon and a chance to write your own story.

You drag Joel back home at the soonest opportunity, patiently biding your time while he settles Ellie in for the night. You hear heated conversation bordering on an argument, but he doesn’t say anything about it when he enters the room for the night.

Instead he drags you to him in a heated kiss, his large hands practically engulfing your face as his tongue sweeps into your mouth to re-familiarize himself with known yet long-unexplored territory.

He hates having to tamp down your moans, but he loves being able to swallow them with his own mouth as his fingers trace through your slick folds. You’re still puffy, wet, and sensitive from his earlier onslaught, but it doesn’t deter you one bit. He revels in each little whimper and gasp, all the involuntary squirms and twitches as he brings you to the brink on his thick, calloused fingers. He swallows every little sound with a fevered kiss until your lips are swollen and red—and then you turn the tables on him. You take him in your palm, whispering praises about how your hand can barely close around him while stroking him with the gentle, languid movements that you know drive him crazy. He fights to keep his sounds down as you settle close in his lap, chest pressed to his and legs locked tight around his thighs until the moment he has to pull your hand away from fear of finishing too fast.

This is the exact foil of the way he fucked you earlier in a frenzied, desperate passion. Now it’s soft and languid, more like searching and exploring than trying to find the end goal. It’s hot and sweaty and sticky from where your skin is pressed so tightly against his, but his strong hands only drag you closer and closer and you really don’t even consider pulling away—not when he gently tugs your hair to tilt your head back for a deeper kiss, not when he lifts you up so effortlessly to help you sink down on his achingly hard cock, not even when his hands squeeze your hips hard enough to leave bruises at the feeling of bottoming out in your soaked cunt.

You couldn’t count the minutes you’re on top of him even if you cared to try. It’s an eternity of softly rocking hips and open-mouthed kisses, like if he breathes air from anywhere besides your lungs it’ll poison him. He doesn’t even care that it practically feels like torture—like not enough but simultaneously far too much as you do nothing more than rock on his length. It takes a lifetime before he loses his patience and anchors your hips in his capable hands so he can fuck you properly. He guides you to bounce on him, hitting deeper with each perfectly matched upward thrust of his own hips.

You’re falling apart before you even know what’s hit you, biting your lip almost to the point of drawing blood to keep your sounds under control as you fall limp in his arms.

And Joel—sweet, sweet Joel—has the foresight to check in with you before he does what he has to.

”Good, baby? Feel okay? Wanna stop?”

You shake your head, and it takes you a moment to find breath enough to tell him, “Don’t stop. Come in me.”

The demand is so unexpected that it hits him like a tidal wave—and before he knows it, his cock is twitching with forceful spasms as he paints you from the inside out until you’re dripping his spend out around his softening length.

Evidently, you’re not the only one caught up in this bubble of paradise within the walls of Jackson.

He doesn’t say anything, just rolls onto his side so he can hold you closer without his cock slipping from your warmth. That’s exactly how you fall asleep—him snuggly inside you, kissing your hair and whispering the sweetest of nothings into your ear.

When you wake up, you feel empty in more ways than one.

There’s dust particles swirling in the sunbeam streaming through the far window, and your stomach sinks when you reach over and feel Joel’s side of the bed completely cold.

You try not to jump to conclusions, but you know exactly what you’ll find even before you read the note left on the nightstand.

Easier not to say goodbye. I promised I’d take Ellie to the Fireflies, and you know I always make good on my promises.

I promise I’ll come back for you.

Joel

It’s not a promise that he can make with complete certainty, and you know it. You’re sure he knew it, too; and yet he did it anyway, promised you the impossible.

You remember far too suddenly that there’s risks involved with literally anything done in this crumbling, broken world—and just like that, the perfect little bubble you’ve lived in for the past sixteen hours has popped. There’s no fairytale endings here, no happily ever afters.

There’s you, alone and aching, hoping beyond hope the man you love will return to your side.

And there’s Joel, out in the wilderness somewhere, wondering if he’s even worthy of returning to your side.

Maybe he’s not. But maybe making good on this promise—dropping Ellie off so they can find a cure—will tip his scales. Maybe he’ll be worthy of finally settling down with you the way he wants to after this one last job. He knows he’ll have to spend hours upon hours apologizing to you for it, but it would be worth it to know that he finally made the world at least a little bit better rather than worse—to know that he’s finally done something for you to be proud of.

He knows he has to prove himself one way or another before he can return to your side. And he will.

After all, Joel Miller is a man who always makes good on his promises.

THE END

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#cece writes #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut

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mystic-writings · 4 months

Text

tangled up (in strings of emotion) | wilbur soot

PAIRING – wilbur soot x fem!streamer!reader, implied wilbur x shubble

REQUEST – anon - Hi! ok so, i had a very angsty idea. basically, we all know how wilbur had a crush on shubble? basically, my idea is that wilbur and streamer!reader have been dating for a while and the internet loves them (as they should) and reader and shubble are good friends like reader, shubble and niki are all like an iconic trio, but then wilbur starts to distance from reader and spend more time with shubble and you know who catches on first? james. and then jack figures it out, and tommy and niki and the band all have it figured out and niki (i love niki more than life itself) tells reader and the readers like “fuck you, it’s me or her william.” with prompt 9 from “angst prompt 2”?? i feel like that would be really really cool and your angst is absolutely *chefs kiss* :) if you don’t wanna do it that’s fine! just a thought, have a lovely day!!

PROMPT – 9. “don’t make me choose.”

SUMMARY – you finally find out why your relationship with wilbur is falling apart, even if you didn’t see the signs.

WARNINGS – angst, hurt/no comfort, tw cheating mentions

WORD COUNT – 2,720

NOTES – i listened to haunted by tswift the entire time i wrote this bc it matches so well tbh | first fic of 2024 & no surprise, it’s ANGST !!

masterlist | taglist form

How have you been so blissfully ignorant all this time?

These past few years of your life, the ones you once looked back upon as the best of your life thus far, were tainted with a dark stain.

You don’t know how you missed it. All the signs were there, but maybe you were just too happy to believe that something could’ve been wrong in the first place.

Being a streamer, and a successful one at that, was a blessing you never thought you’d have. It led you to all of your best friends, and to your boyfriend of nearly three years. Wilbur Soot, more commonly known now as Will Gold, who you met through your friends Niki and Shelby. It felt like it was fate, meeting him. You were at a point in life where things just felt sour all the time, and you barely had the energy to create content at the time. Then, around the beginning of January 2020, Niki asked if you wanted to make a video with her, Philza, and Wilbur, and from there things were history.

After starting dating over the internet for a while, and with the lockdowns coming and going frequently, you and Wilbur met for the first time in his tiny flat in London. It was amazing, spending that time together, just the two of you. Deciding to make things public and when was a tough decision, but you thought it would be safer to do so after you took the jump and moved to England. You’d never forget that conversation, sitting on your kitchen counter at 4am.

“And you’re sure you want to do that?” Wilbur asked. “I mean, moving here, moving across the country just so we can be together it’s- it’s-”

“A big step, Will. I know. But it’s been almost a year, you know. Restrictions are lifting soon. And I want to be with you. I want to be able to see Tommy and Phil and Niki and Jack easier. I want to be happy.” You told him. “I know I have Shelby here, and I love her with everything I have, but she’s the only thing here and it’s just not enough anymore. I need you.”

After a long, anxiety-inducing silence, Wilbur sighed. “I know. I need you too. I just want to make sure you’re making the right decision here, you know? I don’t want you to have gone through all that trouble just to get here and find you don’t like it, or something happens and you have to go back, anyway.”

You shook your head, even though your boyfriend couldn’t see you. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, Wilbur. I know what I want. And besides, there’s no place on Earth I wouldn’t live if it meant I could live with you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“You should go to sleep. It’s almost 5 in the morning. You need rest.” Wilbur told you, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I know, I know. I’ll talk to you later, though. I promise.”

“Alright, darling. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Will.”

And it was after a long, unnecessarily stressful process with customs and gathering the right papers, that you finally moved in with Wilbur, who began renting an apartment in Brighton not long after the process began.

Over a several-week-long process, you met all of your best friends in person for the first time, and it was the best few weeks of your life. Niki especially was excited to meet you, and she was one of the first to do so.

Life for the next year or so was amazing to say the least. Yours and Wilbur’s respective careers were taking off, his in music and yours in streaming and on YouTube. Everything was coming out on top for the both of you, and for all of your friends.

Until now, you were the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time.

You and Wilbur had been travelling for his tour for a while now, both of you putting off streaming to travel with the rest of Lovejoy for their very first American tour. Christmas was closing in, and you were in California, visiting Shelby, Quackity, and a ton of other friends that you hadn’t seen in a long time.

Wilbur’s show was amazing, as per usual, and you and Shelby spent the whole night glued to one another. Will, like he normally did during the performances when you were in the crowd, kept tossing loving glances your way for most of the set. He even dragged Quackity on stage to cover a song with him. It was truly amazing.

The trip to see your friends, and the rest of the tour overall, was amazing. After it ended and you all went back to England, you noticed a shift in Wilbur’s behaviour. At first you assumed it was just work stress and post-tour burnout of sorts, but soon it became very apparent that it wasn’t directed at anyone but you.

You spent a lot of time around Wilbur and your friends, as group hangouts became very common since you were both gone for so long. They were normally hosted at Tommy’s flat or James’, sometimes Jack’s house or round yours. It was always fun, though, and that’s what mattered.

Streams became frequent again, both solo and with whoever was available at the time, planned or not. You even did a subathon for your birthday that lasted a week and a half. You invited everyone in the area to come over for cake, called those who were too far away and everything; it truly was a wonderful birthday.

Content creation was always unpredictable, and everyone’s lives were hectic, so you weren’t too surprised when Shelby stopped communicating with you as frequently over the next few months. The summer of 2023 seemed to be busy for everyone, including yourself.

You were helping Tommy with his tours and upcoming plans, and your own plans for the future had you being pulled every which way. Wilbur even bought a house for the two of you, despite the rift that was still forming between the two of you. He spent most nights in his office, playing video games or working on music.

Still, even with the distance between you, you never would’ve guessed that the others could see it, too.

It started with James giving you odd looks whenever you’d excuse Wilbur’s lack of presence at hangouts, even when they were at your house. Then Niki, who asked if you were okay on more than one occasion. Then Jack, who came to you about an editing problem and brought up how you hadn’t mentioned Wilbur in a little while, and whose mood seemed to sully when you shrugged and told him it was because he was very busy right now. Then one by one, it seemed everyone was catching onto it, and you nearly shouted at them to leave you alone, because it was your relationship and you didn’t see any problems.

Even if Wilbur barely slept in the same bed as you anymore. Even if he rarely ever touched or kissed you anymore.

Niki. Poor, unfortunate Niki, was the first to find out why. She never told you how, or who told her, but she was the only one who knew. She came to you with it on a beautiful Friday afternoon, a day where you both decided to not stream in favour of a nice, relaxing afternoon in your backyard, drinking coffee at a little table in your garden, full of flowers and flourishing at your hand and hard work.

She’d seemed off to you the entire time she was there, quietly sipping on her second cup of coffee and admiring the flowers.

“Are you okay, Niki?” You’d asked, eyeing her with concern.

Her eyes snapped to yours from the peonies beside her. “What? I’m fine, Y/n, don’t worry.”

“You sure?” You asked. “You seem… off. Like something’s bothering you. If you want to talk, we can, I mean, we’ve been friends for long enough that you can tell me anything you want. You know that, right?”

“Of course, I’m not an idiot.” She stated, fiddling with her fingers. Her stature was small, eyes attempting to steer clear of your gaze and finding solace in her mug. “I just- I don’t know if you’ll like what I have to say, and I don’t want to hurt you. You’re my best friend.”

You smiled gently at the girl. “Don’t worry, Niki. If there’s something you need to tell me, I’m sure I can handle it. You can’t hurt me that badly.”

Your smile faltered when Niki’s weary eyes met yours. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I only found out last night, and I hate to be the one to tell you, especially because it’s not any of my business, I just felt that you needed to know, I-”

“Niki, calm down,” you reached out to place your hand atop hers, and she turned it over to grip it in return. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Wilbur.” She sighed, and your heart rate skyrocketed. “I know why he’s not acting himself around you.”

“Is he okay? I mean, he’s healthy right?” You asked. “Why wouldn’t he tell me this himself?”

“Because he didn’t want you to know.” She said, tears forming in her eyes. “He’s not sick or anything, Y/n. He’s… he’s in love with someone else.”

The world around you could’ve set fire and you wouldn’t have known. Niki’s words rang in your ears, and your heart plummeted from the place in your chest, as if Wilbur himself had dropped it from the safe place you put it; right into his hands.

“With who? Do I know her?”

Niki only nodded, sniffling and blinking away her tears while yours threatened to fall. After a long silence and a heavy sigh, she squeezed your hand again and opened her mouth, her next words coming out shakily. “It’s… Y/n, it’s Shelby.”

You pulled your hand from hers. “What?”

“They’ve been talking for months now. She told me last night and I haven’t spoken to her since then,” Niki swore. “She said she feels bad for doing this to you, especially because she rejected Wilbur for a long time and you’re best friends. I guess she couldn’t stop herself after a while. I don’t know. All she said was that Wilbur initiated it.”

“She still participated.” You said, words lined with tears. “Do you know how long he’s been… been pursuing her?” You nearly gagged on the words.

Niki nodded. “Since the LA performance in December.”

Somehow, your heart fell further than it did before.

Finding out was a blessing and a curse, really. Everything started to make sense once you truly thought it over. All those nights holed up in his office lately, the distance that formed after the tour ended. Those loving glances during the LA show. Somehow, you could tell now that they weren’t for you.

After you talked and cried more about it with Niki, she left to go tend to her cats in her apartment, and offered a place to stay if you needed it.

You spent hours on the couch, anxiously awaiting Wilbur’s return from the studio. Your stomach turned with the thought that he could be on the phone with Shelby right now, chatting and making her laugh and telling her how much he felt for her. You almost broke when you wondered if he’d ever told her he loved her.

Finally, well after sundown, the door creaked open and shut. In walked Wilbur, guitar case gripped in one hand, shoulders sagging from the weight of the day.

“Hello, love.” You said, barely looking at him, words cold as ice.

He tossed a quick glance at you. “Hi, darling. How was your day?”

“Good.” You said, watching him lean the guitar against the arm of the couch, lazily kissing your head as he did.

Somehow, after all these months of being emotionally distant, Wilbur could tell something was wrong. “You okay?” He asked as he headed to the kitchen on the opposite side of the house.

With a sigh, you stood up and clenched your fists. Might as well get it over with. “What’s going on with you lately, Will?”

His brows furrowed as he stopped in the doorway, turning to face you. “What d’you mean? I’m fine, darling.”

“No you’re not.” You said. “You’ve been distant, and for a while now. You’ve been borderline avoiding me. It’s like you’re not even in a relationship with me! Like you don’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore! Did you know our friends have noticed? Every time I show up to a gathering without you they ask what’s wrong. Where you are. And I have nothing to say because I didn’t think anything was wrong.”

Wilbur sighed, face scrunched with indignation. “That’s because nothing’s wrong. I’m just busy.”

“Really? What, busy talking to Shelby?”

Wilbur’s face fell, the colour going with it.

“Yeah, don’t act surprised, Will. I know.” You said, the emotion finally flowing back to you. “I know you’ve been seeing my best friend behind my back. I know you’ve been pursuing her for a year. Niki told me. She said you’ve been after Shelby, wearing her down, trying to get her to go behind everyone’s back. After all this time, after everything we’ve been through, and you cheat on me with her of all people? My best friend. The woman who helped introduce us and you didn’t think I’d find out at some point?”

“Look, it’s not what you think, I just-”

“Just what, Wilbur?” You asked, biting back a sob. “Just wanted to use me to get to her? I don’t even know why you asked me out in the first place. I knew you had a crush on her before we started dating.” You breathed a shaky sigh, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I guess I was just naive enough to think you’d gotten over it. Maybe you did, for a little while.”

“I swear, it’s nothing like that, Y/n. I love you, I do.” He pleaded. “Just let me explain everything, please.”

“I don’t want to hear it. I can’t believe you, Wilbur. You bought a house for us! I moved here for you! We were building a life together! And you tore it all down for her!” You screamed. The neighbours could probably hear you by now, but you didn’t care. You needed to let everything out. “I left my family behind, my life behind for you. That’s how much I love you. I guess you just don’t love me enough to do the same.”

“Y/n, don’t- I love you, too. We can fix this, I swear. I promise.”

“Fuck you.” You spat, catching Wilbur off guard. “You don’t love me. Not enough to cheat on me with one of my best friends. So fuck you, William. It’s me or her. You don’t get to have us both. I won’t put myself through that.”

Wilbur’s eyes filled with emotion, with indecision. “Don’t. Please, Y/n, don’t make me choose.”

You stepped closer to him, fury burning through you. “Fine, then I will. I don’t know what the hell you thought you could do when you got yourself into this, but you’re sure as hell not gonna keep dating me.”

Before Wilbur could speak, you were marching upstairs to your bedroom – the room you spent more time in than Wilbur did – texting Niki on your way to pack a bag. Your heart was crumbling to dust in your chest, and the emotion was finally replacing whatever temporary anger you felt, crashing through you like waves, putting out the fire within you.

Wilbur begged and pleaded as you packed your bag, but you didn’t listen. You just packed whatever was necessary, whatever you could think to bring for the night. You’d come back for the rest later.

15 minutes later, after a quiet Uber ride, you were sitting in Niki’s living room, crying and wondering what you were going to do next. Because you changed your life for Wilbur, and it was his reckless betrayal that tore it all down around you.

forever taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality@mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04 @heliads

wilbur soot taglist: open!

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot angst #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader

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octoberclidan · 11 months

Text

Don't Tell Anyone

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Request: could you write a fic where the reader takes care of a sick and emotional dean? just a lot of comfort and caring

Masterlist

Story:

"Hey Sam, you seen Dean yet?" [Y/N] asked as she walked into the bunker's kitchen to find Sam enjoying a coffee. It was almost noon, she'd slept in late after only arriving back in the bunker from a long hunt at 4am that morning.

"Haven't seen him". He shrugged, taking a sip from his coffee. "You sleep okay? I thought I heard you up and moving around earlier when I was leaving for my jog".

"You went for your jog this morning? Do you just not need sleep?" She asked, sitting down opposite him.

"I may have slept most of the way on the drive back last night". He smiled sheepishly before getting up to make her a coffee. "I'd say he's still asleep, it was a long drive, even for him". He set the coffee down in front of her and sat back down. "How come you were up and awake earlier?" He asked again and she shrugged.

"I woke up and couldn't really sleep, so I did a bit of tidying".

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah". She smiled at him and took a sip of her drink. "Thanks for this".

"Of course. I'm heading out on a supply run, do you need anything?" She shook her head and he stood up, walked around to her and bent down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "I'll see you in a bit, try wake Dean up if he doesn't get up on his own in the next hour, he'll get annoyed if he sleeps in too long". She nodded at him and he left her to drink the rest of her coffee. Sam and Dean were always looking out for her, ever since she moved into the bunker, they did little things for her like make her food, check up on her, give her hugs and forehead kisses. She suspected that they both liked having someone that they could look after, someone who returned their affection, though they'd never admit it out loud. Sam was like a big brother to her, and Dean was... well, Dean was a bit different. The truth was she was worried about him. The hunt had taken a lot out of him, and he looked completely drained by the time they'd arrived back in the bunker. He looked pale, he had bags under his eyes, and he barely said a word to either of them before he closed his bedroom door behind him. She hadn't been tidying her room earlier that morning, she'd been pacing back and forth debating with herself whether or not to go check on him.

Dean wasn't great at opening up to people. He was a great listener to [Y/N] when she needed it, but he wasn't a great talker when he needed it. He was amazing at showing how much he cared for her, but the moment anyone tried to show that they cared for him, he'd brush it off. He'd never let her stitch herself up after a hunt, but he'd insist on stitching himself up if he could. He didn't like people asking if he was okay, and on the occasion that either [Y/N] or Sam were pestering him about his emotional state, he'd snap at them and shut them out for days. That's why, even though they were very close, [Y/N] had decided not to check on him that morning and to just let him be, let him come out in his own time.

She finished her coffee and went to shower and get dressed, she wasn't planning on doing anything too strenuous for the day, her muscles still aching from the hunt. An hour after Sam had left, Dean still hadn't made any appearance. She'd walked past his door a couple of times going between the bathroom and her room, and she'd noticed that there was no light under the door.

She was sitting in the library filling in her journal about the hunt when Sam arrived back after another hour had passed. "Hey, wanna help me put some things away?" He asked her, and she hopped up to take a bag from him. They set the supply bags down on one of the tables and began to sort through them, making a pile for the kitchen, a pile for the bathroom, and a pile for the infirmary. "So is Dean up? I was going to suggest we go out for drinks tonight". Sam said as he started to go through the pile destined for the kitchen, putting all the items into one of the empty bags.

"Oh, I uh.. I didn't wake him up". [Y/N] said as she busied herself with the pile for the bathroom. "Is this conditioner for you or for me?" She held up the bottle of expensive brandname conditioner and Sam's cheeks went a bit pink.

"I thought we could share it". [Y/N] giggled at how embarrassed the hunter looked and packed it into the bag. "So, Dean's not up? It's well into the afternoon now, it's not like him". He picked up his now full bag. "Why don't you go wake him up? See if he wants to go out later".

"I don't want him to be annoyed at me for waking him".

"He won't be annoyed if you come bearing gifts". Sam winked at her and took a small boxed pie from the top of the bag, handing it to her. She sighed and nodded at him as he left the room. It was time to disturb Dean. She walked down the corridor to his room and stood outside, noting that his light still seemed to be off. She felt nervous, she hated it when Dean was annoyed, especially when it was directed at her. They didn't fight often at all, only really ever having one major argument, but for small things, like eating the last of his pie, or waking him up before he was ready, he'd give her the silent treatment. Whenever she looked back on it she could see that he was being childish, and she actually found it quite funny and would have a little laugh about it with Sam afterwards, but when it was happening in the moment, she hated it.

She took a deep breath and knocked on his door. No answer. Thinking maybe she wasn't loud enough, she knocked harder. Still no answer. She stood there for a moment listening to see if she could hear any movement from inside the room, but there was nothing. Finally, she pushed the door open. It was dark, but the light from the hallway lit up Dean's bed, and he was lying in it. He was on his stomach, his hands under his pillow and his face towards [Y/N], his eyes closed. She walked towards him carefully, she knew that even in the sanctuary of the bunker he still sometimes slept with a gun under his pillow after a hunt. "Dean?" She called out quiety, keeping a safe distance. He didn't respond. "Dean?" She tried again, a bit louder. He breathed in quickly and his eyes opened, looking lost for a moment before he saw her.

"What?" He mumbled.

"Are you okay? You've been in bed all afternoon".

Dean grumbled something before turning his head to face away from her. She took a step closer to him.

"What did you say?" She asked him, but he only grumbled again into his pillow. She took another step closer and reached out her hand to touch his shoulder, to find that he was radiating a lot of heat and the shoulder of his t-shirt was wet. She pulled her hand back in shock before reaching over him to place the back of her hand against his forehead, causing him to grumble again. "Dean, you're burning up! Why didn't you come and get me or Sam?" She pulled back his cover in an attempt to cool him down a bit, and once again he grumbled. "I can't hear you if you talk into the pillow".

He finally looked up and glared at her. "I said, I tried, I couldn't get out of bed". Her eyes softened as she looked at him properly. He was just as pale as he had been the previous night, the bags under his eyes were now darker, and now his eyes were red too. He'd been crying. She set the pie she'd been holding down on his desk and then sat down on the edge of his bed.

"You're sick Dean, you have a temperature". She pushed his damp hair off his forehead to feel it again and he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I know".

"Will you put away the tough guy attitude for a minute and let me take care of you?" She looked him in the eyes and watched as his wall tumbled down. His lip quivered and his eyes watered as she moved her hand down to cup his cheek, he closed his eyes and let a tear drop down as he couldn't help but lean into her touch. Her heart broke for him, she'd only ever seen him cry once before, and that was on a very difficult hunt when he thought Sam had died again. She knew he must be feeling extremely under the weather to break like that. "Dean... come on, sit up and let me give you a hug before I go get you some water and something to get your fever down". She put her hands behind his shoulders and helped pull him up, noticing that his shirt was soaked completely. Ignoring it, she pulled him close and he leaned his chin on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her and wincing slightly at the ache he felt from the movement. "I've got you". She whispered, running her fingers up and down his back.

Dean showed no sign of letting go, so after a few more minutes she pulled back, not missing his whimper. "I'm going to get you some cold water and some flu medicine, Sam just finished a supply run so we should be all stocked up". She moved to stand up but he grabbed her wrist, pulling her back down into a hug.

"No, don't go". He mumbled into her shoulder. She couldn't help but melt at the rare vulnerability he was showing her. She let him hold her for another few minutes before even she was getting too hot from his skin contact.

"Okay, tell you what, I'll go get some stuff that will help you get better, and then I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep. How does that sound?" She asked. Dean didn't answer straight away, but eventually nodded against her neck and pulled away, leaning back against his bed's headboard. She quickly leaned forward and kissed his forehead, smiling when she saw his face relax from her touch, and left the room to go and find Sam.

She found him in the kitchen, putting stuff into the fridge. "Hey! Get Dean up?" He asked as she walked into the room.

"Yeah... he's not getting up any time soon. He's sick, looks like the flu. He's looking pretty rough". She sighed and Sam turned around to give her his full attention. "Did you buy Tylenol earlier?" She asked him and he nodded.

"Yeah I did, I'll go get it, I'll meet you back in his room. Is he coughing or anything?" Sam looked worried, neither of them got sick very often, especially Dean. He began walking to the door, turning back to wait for an answer.

"No I don't think so, just the fever, he seems a bit... emotional too".

"Emotional?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, like, needy".

"We should get the fever down quickly, he's not gonna be happy with that". Sam chuckled before leaving the room. [Y/N] filled up a glass of water, and added a lot of ice. She grabbed a towel and dampened it in cold water too, then made her way back to Dean's room. He was still sitting up when she walked in, but his eyes were closed.

"Dean? You awake?" She asked as she sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. He nodded without opening his eyes. "Okay, let's get that shirt off you, okay? Can you raise your arms?" He nodded but didn't move his arms. "Dean? Your arms?"

"You wanna see me naked?" His voice was slurred and his eyes were still closed but he did manage to smirk.

"I want to get your shirt off, it's soaked from sweat and you're overheating in it". She blushed a little and was glad he wasn't opening his eyes to see it. "If you raise your arms I can help you get it over your head".

"You wanna see me naked". He chuckled but raised his arms up a bit. She bit her lip trying not to laugh, not wanting to encourage him, and helped pull his shirt off.

"Hey, got the Tylenol". Sam walked into the room, a small tub of pills in one hand and a thermometer in the other. "You look like shit". He said as he approached his brother. Dean mocked him and opened his eyes for the sole purpose of rolling them at Sam, but let him take his temperature. "Here, take his temperature every thirty minutes or so to monitor it. It's high but not too bad". Sam handed the thermometer and pills to [Y/N]. "Good luck with him, come get me if you need anything". He patted her shoulder and left the room. [Y/N] put the thermometer down and handed the cold glass of water to Dean along with two pills, which he quickly knocked back.

"Lie down, I have a cold towel for your forehead". She said as she took the glass back from him. He did as she said and began to pull his covers up but she stopped him.

"You're too hot Dean, no covers".

"Thank you". He smirked at her, this time it was her turn to roll her eyes at him.

"You can't help yourself, can you?" She sighed at him as she placed the towel on his forehead. "Do you ever feel insecure?" She giggled as she noticed him smirking again as he shrugged his shoulders.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He whispered so quietly she almost didn't hear him.

"Yeah". She whispered back.

"Don't tell anyone".

"I won't". She promised.

"Sometimes I feel insecure around you".

"Me?" She wasn't sure what he meant.

"Yeah, you're so pretty. I like looking at you".

"You're delirious, it must be the fever". She reached across to get the thermometer but Dean opened his eyes and the smirk was gone, he looked completely serious as he grabbed her wrist.

"I mean it, I look at you all the time... I imagine things about you".

"Dean..."

"No like... Nice things. I imagine you cuddling up to me when we watch a movie, I imagine holding your hand, and long hugs, and kissing". He was staring straight into her eyes as he said these things, and she felt her cheeks heat up.

She cleared her throat. "Why don't you try and get some sleep? You must be tired".

"Do you not imagine those things too?" He suddenly looked sad and hurt.

"You tell me those things again when you're not sick with a high fever and then we can talk about it, okay?"

"You don't like me back". A tear fell from his eye.

"Aww, Dean, of course I like you back". She quickly brushed his tear away with her thumb, then kept her hand on his face, stroking his cheek lightly.

"Why would you like me?" He sniffed.

"Well, you're kind and caring, you make me laugh, and you're actually really sweet".

"I'm hot too". He pointed out, pulling another giggle from her.

"Yeah, you're hot too, but you already knew that".

"If you think all of that then why don't you kiss me?" She felt the familiar sensation of butterflies in her stomach. Even a sick Dean Winchester who was pale with dark circles under his eyes was still undeniably attractive. She leaned down and quickly kissed his cheek, pulling back to see his eyes were closed and he was wearing a smile. His grip on her wrist loosened and she realised he'd fallen asleep. She smiled to herself before leaving to go get her journal, she'd decided she could fill it out in Dean's room so she'd be there if he needed anything.

She spent the next couple of hours filling in her journal and reading over her previous entries, making notes here and there as she thought of them, then moved on to doing a bit of research. She'd checked Dean's temperature a few times as he slept, and she was glad to see that it was gradually going down. She'd replaced the cool towel on his head too, and Sam had come in to check on both of them, bringing her some dinner at some point. It was late evening when she put down the book she'd been reading and yawned. She pushed the chair back to get up and check Dean's temperature again when he stirred, woken up by the sound of the chair scraping along the floor. "Hey". She smiled at him.

"Hey". He said back, looking around. The dark circles under his eyes had brightened up a bit, but he still looked tired. "How long have you been in here?" He asked, pulling the towel off his head.

"Most of the day". She said, gesturing at the stack of books she'd been going through.

"You not worried about catching whatever it is I have?"

"If I do then you'll just have to look after me instead". She smiled at him. "Are you hungry? You should have some water". Dean sat up as she handed him the glass and she sat down beside him.

"Not really. Seriously though, you should go, what if you get sick before I'm better?"

"Well then Sam can look after both of us. Do you want me to go?" She asked as she took the glass back from him, and he shook his head.

"No, I guess if you've been in here all day with me then you've probably already got it. Let me feel your forehead".

She giggled at him. "You're not gonna be able to tell, your hands are too warm".

"Then take your temperature". He attempted to reach over for the thermometer in her hand but she pulled it back.

"I'm looking after you, remember? You should go back to sleep, it's late. I'm gonna go back to my room, I'm tired too, but if you need anything just text me, okay?"

"You're leaving?" His shoulders dropped.

"It's night time Dean, I need to go to bed".

"There's a bed here". He frowned at her.

"Your bed is kind of already taken". She smiled at him and stood up.

"Wait! No, look, there's room for one more, see?" He moved over in the bed, leaving a space for her. She'd never seen him use puppy eyes before, there was no way she could say no to him.

"Are you sure?" She wasn't sure a not-sick Dean would be comfortable with sharing a bed with her. They'd shared beds before while out on hunts, always out of necessity though. There was no need for [Y/N] to sleep in Dean's bed tonight when her own was just across the hall.

"Can I tell you another secret?" He asked and she nodded. "I like when we have to share a bed. You snuggle up to me and it's really nice, I sleep better when I can hold you".

"When you're better you're going to hate yourself for saying all this and being all soft". She giggled. He gave her another pleading look and she gave in, lying down beside him. He immediately wrapped an arm around her waist and tucked his head into her neck. It was a bit uncomfortable with how hot he still was, but when he started to rub his thumb against her waist, combined with her already sleepiness, she drifted off.

***

[Y/N] felt like she was floating, up and down, slowly and steadily. Then she felt a light breeze on the top of her head, in time with the floating. The next thing she became aware of was something trailing up and down her back, and then the sound of breathing, which matched both the up and down motion and the air she felt on her head. She opened her eyes and found herself lying on Dean's bare chest. Looking up she caught his eyes looking down at her. "Morning". He said, continuing to run his hand up and down her back. Suddenly feeling self conscious, she looked back down.

"Sorry... you asked me to stay, and you were sick, I couldn't leave but I needed to sleep".

"Hey, it's okay, I remember I didn't really give you a choice". He chuckled and brought his hand up to hold the back of it against her forehead. "I think you have a temperature". He whispered and she laughed and looked up at him. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to make you sick... but I do really like sharing a bed with you, I slept very well". He smiled at her and she blushed, surprised that he was saying that now that he didn't seem too tired or sick.

"I slept really well too, but I do feel a bit achy now that I'm awake". She began to nervously trace her finger around his tattoo, very much aware that she was still on top of him and he hadn't made any move to get her off him.

"How about you stay here in my bed and I look after you? I'm feeling a lot better". He offered.

"I could go to my own bed?" She countered, hoping he would tell her to stay again.

"You could, but your bed is smaller and I don't know if we'll both fit in it tonight". He started to play with a strand of her hair. She'd never seen Dean nervous before, but he was avoiding eye contact while waiting for her to respond.

"I like this open version of you". She smiled at him and he chuckled.

"It's just for you. Don't tell anyone, especially not Sam". He brushed the strand he'd been playing with behind her ear. "Speaking of Sam, why would I get out of bed to get you medicine when I can continue to hold you and just text him to get it?"

"Do you remember everything you said yesterday?" She asked him.

"I remember telling you I liked you, that you're pretty, and I remember you kissing my cheek". He reached over to grab his phone to text Sam. "How about once we're both better we go out, like for drinks or something, and maybe I could get a proper goodnight kiss". His smirk was back and she lay her head back on his chest nodding her head.

"Yeah, I'd like that".

"Then it's a date Sweetheart".

The end

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slut4thebroken · 10 months

Text

Soothing

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Dark!Jason Todd × innocent Batgirl!reader

Summary | Jason just likes the sound of your voice.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, corruption kink, masturbation, no female orgasms, lowkey misogynistic!Jason lol, adopted siblings, but like... he doesn't think of her that way and neither does she, Jason pov.

Words | 1k

Notes | Finally wrote the fic from this post. Also I realized that I said that good weird was the first in this collection but I guess technically this is. That was just the first time they actually got together. (Help I’m literally so bad at choosing gifs/pictures for fics💀)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Other innocent! reader fics

Backstory for this series here

It had been a long fucking day. A long week to be honest. He never really liked working with Dick or Tim, always preferring to work alone, but he couldn’t deny that he needed more manpower for this, and everyone else he knew was busy, so he swallowed his pride and called them.

Even though it was his mission, Dick always naturally took the lead, so it was no surprise that he did this time too. The whole week so far was spent arguing about whose plan was better and Tim trying to diffuse the tension, but primarily siding with Dick. He almost considered making them go home so he could do it alone, but he knew that would get himself killed. Again.

But today was by far the worst of the whole week and he wanted nothing more than to hear your voice. So even though it was 4am for him, he called you, praying you’d pick up. When you did, you started the usual greeting of “hi” and “how are you?” as he took off everything but his underwear and slipped under the covers.

“When do you come back?” You asked, making him smile.

“Just a few more days, princess. Promise.”

“Okay.” You said quietly, then, “I miss you.” He let out a low chuckle and could imagine the pretty blush painting your cheeks from his reaction.

“I miss you too, sweetheart. What have you been up to though?” You rambled on about your day, telling him about how Alfred made cookies earlier and that you were quickly growing bored in the mostly empty manor and your completely empty apartment.

He tried to pay attention, honestly he did. But he hasn’t touched his cock in almost a week because of how busy he’s been and he missed the sound of your voice. So what else was he supposed to do when his cock fattened up in his briefs?

When you started talking about this new show you’ve been watching, he tuned out your words a little bit, just listening to the softness of your voice, imagining the pretty little whimpers you could make with it. Pushing the covers and his underwear down, he freed his cock and instantly took it in his hand, stroking slowly. His breathing started to change a little, growing heavier and faster, making you trail off in the middle of your sentence.

“Don’t stop talking, princess.” He rasped, hand speeding up.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly.

“I’m perfect. Your voice is just so soothing, baby. Keep talking.”

“O-okay.” You continued hesitantly, telling him about how you fell and scraped your knee, wishing he was there to help bandage you up like he’s done in the past. You told him about how you’ve been having trouble sleeping since you can’t come to his room in the middle of the night after having a nightmare. God- he fucking misses that too. It’s one of his favorite things, being able to caress your body or grind against you while you sleep, never waking up because of how safe you feel in his arms. When he let out a quiet grunt, you stopped again.

“Are you sure you’re okay? What was that?”

“I’m so good, princess. Keep going.” He tried not to moan through the words.

“Okay…” He swiped a thumb over the tip and took in a sharp breath, making you stop again. “Why are you breathing weird, Jay?”

“Baby, I'm not.” He sighed. “I promise I'm okay. If you don’t want to keep talking, we don’t have to.”

“No!” You said quickly, because of his tone. “I didn’t mean it like that, I was just worried.” Instead of letting him reply, you continued talking about random things that have happened while he’s been away. Every once in a while he’d let out a sound to let you know he was listening, a grunt disguised as a sound of acknowledgement, but you bought it.

He started tuning out your words again, just focusing on the soft lull of your sleepy voice. You being sleepy is probably his favorite thing, closely followed by you being scared or in pain. You’re so pliable, so easy to manipulate. He can caress your tit or your ass and pass it off as an accident, or even tell you that he can’t sleep in clothes, only underwear, and that it’s perfectly normal for your big brother to sleep almost naked beside you. Sometimes, if he’s really lucky, he can convince you that you won’t be comfortable in those modest pajamas you wear and that you’ll be able to sleep much better in just his shirt. And you almost always agree.

He stroked his cock even faster, quickly nearing his orgasm after so long without one, and when he cursed under his breath, then let out a long, quiet groan, you trailed off again.

You did your best to keep speaking, stuttering through the sentences, but it fell on deaf ears as he came, thinking about how fucking hot it was that you didn’t even know. When his noises quieted and he was lightly panting, you decided to ask again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m perfect, baby.” He sounded significantly more tired and relaxed, but he knew you’d be too stupid to put it together. “You’re so good for me- my good girl. Thank you, princess.”

“You’re welcome…?” You asked, confused, but he wasn’t going to bother explaining. “Are you tired now?”

“Just a little, but I can stay up for you.” He murmured, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand to wipe his come off his stomach, cock twitching as he imagined you licking it off him instead.

“You don’t have to, Jay. I’m tired too.” He knew you well enough to know that was a lie.

“How about we go to sleep, but don’t hang up. How does that sound?”

“Okay, yeah. Thank you, Jay. I love you.” You said quietly, but he could practically hear the smile in your voice.

“I love you too, princess. Sweet dreams.” He knew he would at least have some.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #smut #innocent!reader #dark!jason todd

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toulouseradiosilence · 2 months

Text

Rainy Days

TW:signs of depression, blood(described), wounds and later chapters WILL discuss suicide and self harm. If you are triggered by these themes do not read this. I will make happier stories

I do not relate to this, and this might not be accurate. My grammar and writing abilities aren’t good, please correct me or give me constructive criticism ❤️ also, this story was !!!PERFECTED!!! with AI, I wrote it myself, everything, but because I’m German and my whole family doesn’t know much English, this is one of my only options. I have the original where I wrote it into my notebook and made notes for myself and I still have it in it’s earlier stages (I already wrote much more when I was younger, my grammar was pretty bad tho) if anyone wants proof (the notebook) I’ll release it on @toulouseradiosilence <3

enjoy!

Chapter 1: Rose

I wake up to the sound of rain pouring onto the roof. The first thing I do after lying on my side for another 5 minutes is to look at the alarm clock. The time it’s displaying is barely visible, yesterday’s meal is standing in front of it. Would you call that dinner or breakfast? It was at about 4AM, so I’m not really sure, but it also does not matter, so I shove the leftover ramenbox and cheap diet lemonade off of the bedside table. The bottle shatters on the floor, startling me. Besides the cars, rain and airplanes outside this is the first noise I’ve heard today, and probably one of the ones I will hear. I finally look at the time. 10:30 AM. I’m not late to anything, I haven’t been late to anything in months.. or years. Because there is nothing to be late to. Nobody needs me, I’m not part of this “system”. And I think that’s not as bad someone would expect. I don’t have any responsibilities whatsoever. I don’t have to take part in this society, I can do whatever I want. And I choose to lay in my bed, draw or sleep. I have food in my storage (ramen, diet lemonade/ water). Sometimes I crave foods I used to eat when I was younger, but it’s certainly not worth going to the store for. Some days I eat a lot, some I don’t eat at all. Most days, actually. Some days I don’t get out of bed and some I don’t even wake up. Others I don’t sleep. Sometimes I look at drawings or other posts on tumblr. That’s all I really do. Sometimes I think about signing up and posting my drawings, but I’m not good with social stuff and this is too social for me in many ways, so I don’t. I have to go to the toilet, which is pretty unusual for me, considering i barely drink anything. I don’t want to get up though, so I continue lying in my bed for another 20 minutes, until I feel too uncomfortable. I sit up and put my feet into the ground. Something sharp cuts into one of them. I don’t do anything; I don’t even look down to see what just hurt my foot. Another minute of just sitting there and staring goes by until I decide to check. A piece of a broken diet lemonade bottle. I stand up and shove the trash under my bed, I didn’t remove the shard. I start walking. The cut stings. I really do not care though. Dragging myself into the bathroom, I push the door open and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, but I quickly look away. I sit down onto the toilet and.. pee.. yeah, I pee. Afterwards I continue sitting on the toilet and my eyes trail along the way I was walking on, from the toilet to to the door. The door is open. I live alone. There’s a trail of blood on the floor. What? Oh. It’s my blood. Wait, yeah, of course it is. Who else’s would it be? I put my leg into the other to look at my foot. The shard is still in there. I actually kind of panic because it looks really, really bad. Almost my whole foot is cut open. And THAT is a reason to stay in bed all day (as if I wouldn’t do that anyway.. but now I have an excuse, I guess.) I limp over to my bed, but before laying down I check whether I still have some water. Luckily, I do. So I let myself fall onto the bed back first, take a chug of water and start to sleep.

Next chapter will probably release next week❤️

omg I just read through it and the amount of typos I made?? Guys pls tell me if there are mistakes this is embarrassing 💀😭

Also I hate the pace, its so fast…

#Rainy Days #writing #story #writers on tumblr #writeblr #tumblr writers #tumblr story

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chapel-of-rizztual · 10 months

Note

I can't find the ask game again, but can you please write some more tearful & soft puppy Mountain? Like, what if him & the new quintessence bug got stuck in a hyperempathy feedback loop & they had no choice but to kiss laugh about it?

Phantom woke up to a weird sound. It was just coming up to 4am, and he blinks blearily at his phone checking the time. The tour bus is small and cramped, Phantom got use to hearing snores and snuffles from the other ghouls as they slept, but this was different. It sounded almost pained. Phantom’s ears prick up as he listens intently for the sound again, but after a couple of seconds of silence he turns around, settling back into his bunk, thinking that maybe Swiss was just sleep talking again.

Just as he’s drifting off the sleep again he hears it again. A soft whimpering cry, louder this time, coming from one of the other bunks. He waits for it stop like last time, but it keeps going, wet gasp like sobs echoing through the quiet of the bus.

Phantom shuffled out of his bed as quietly as he can, wrapping his tail around his waist so it didn’t swing around uncontrollably. He followed the sounds along the corridor for the bus, careful not to trip over any stray items of clothing and Shoes.

He makes it to Mountains bunk, where sounds are coming from, and gently pulls the certain back, not wanting to scare the ghoul.

Mountain is still asleep, his face scrunched up uncomfortably as he lets out little squeaks and whimpers in his sleep, one hand grasping at the pillow desperately.

Phantom shakes him gently, being careful not to scare him.

“Hey, hey mount. You need to wake up, i think you’re having a nightmare.”

Mountain let’s out a long whimper, his face scrunching up even more before his eyes shoot open with a sharp gasp.

He grasps at a Phantom’s wrist and stutters, trying to take a deep breath, and he blinks rapidly, desperately trying to blink away the tears that had pooled on his eyes.

“Hey, you’re okay, I promise, you’re safe.” He whispers to Mountain, softly rubbing at his cheek.

Mountain looks at him with big wet eye and his bottom lip wobbles as tears now fall from his eyes and he whimpers sadly.

When Phantom had first been summoned, Aether had warned him about Mountain. About how he could be a little over emotional and sensitive at time, how he cried a lot, often at nothing, and how clingy and needy he could be. He was also warned about the puppy thing, and how that can heighten his emotions sometime. But he was told it wouldn’t be an issue for him, that Mountain had people to go that would look after him when felt like that.

He’d witnessed Mountain being puppy with the others, seen how they’d played with him, how they’d coo at him and rub his belly. He’d seen them cuddle him and hold him tight when he cried, and how they reassured him, babied him at times, when he needed it.

He could tell Mountain was puppy now, just by the way his pupils were blown, whatever dream he’d had had obviously scared him into his safe headspace. He contemplated waking Swiss or Cumulus, they know what to do with Mountain when he’s like this, but the way the poor earth ghoul is clinging to him diminishes that idea.

“You’re okay, puppy. I’ve got you, I’ll keep you safe.” Phantom climbs into Mountain bunk, pulling the ghoul into his chest and he starts running his hands though his hair, hoping that it’s comforting for him.

Mountain immediately curls into his chest, a desperate sob wracking through his body so hard that Phantom feels him jump with it.

“Oh, I know, puppy. I know. You had such a scary dream, huh?”

Mountain nods agains his chest and let’s out another sob, tears soaking into Phantoms pyjama top. Phantom wraps both his arms around the earth ghoul, squeezing him as tightly as he can, keeping on hand buried in his hair, scratching behind his ears.

“Shhh, you’re okay, puppy. I’ve got you, you’re safe.” He feels that tell-tale tightening of his throat and he feels tears of his own tell in his eyes.

“Where’s your carrot, puppy? I know you like to have that with you all the time.” His voice breaks and he clears his throat, not wanting Mountain to know he was on the verge of crying himself.

Mountain let’s put a small whine and gives a small shrug, burying his face deeper into Phantom’s chest. Phantom reached a hand under Mountains pillow, knowing that the ghoul liked to ‘bury’ it there to keep it safe. He finds the plush exactly where he thinks it would be and pull it out, handing it to Mountain.

Mountain takes the carrot plush right away, with a happy teary thrill, resting on Phantom’s chest and chews away on it.

“That’s it, puppy. Such a good boy, aren’t you? Doing to well for me.”

Phantom watches as Mountain slowing starts to calm down, the tears slowing and the little whimpery sobs die down at he comfort chews on the plush.

Phantom desperately try’s to blink away the tears that had welled in his eyes, but to no avail as they run down his cheeks. He suck in a shaky breath, trying to stay as quiet as he can, not wanting to disturb Mountain now that he’d calmed down enough.

It doesn’t work, in his efforts to trying and keep his cries in he lets out a little hiccup, his belly jumping under Mountain, making the poor earth ghoul jump.

Mountain let’s out a squeak, looking up at Phantom with big round eyes. He licks at the tears on Phantom’s cheeks, making him let out a wet giggle, and let’s out a questioning hum.

“I’m okay, puppy, I promise.” He tries not to let his voice wobble as he speaks. Mountain tilts his head to the side, licking at the tears again.

Phantom giggles again at the feeling.

“I just-sometimes get a little upset when other people get upset.” He pets at Mountain hair. “I’m okay though, I promise.” He let’s out another wet laugh as Mountain starts licking all over his face.

Mountain nudges his carrot plush further up Phantom chest with his nose, giving him a questioning look.

Phantom feels his heart swell at the gesture from Mountain, knowing how much that carrot plush meant to him.

“Oh, you’re so sweet, puppy. But this is yours, baby. I don’t need it.”

He pushes the plush back down to where it had been resting on his chest, hoping the grimace on his face wasn’t obvious as he touched the wet fabric. Mountain takes it back with a happy chitter, continuing his chewing, his eyes slipping closed as he does.

“We should sleep, puppy. We have to be up to help with set up in a couple of hours.”

Mountain hums in agreement, his eyes still closed as he settles down properly on Phantom’s chest, carrot still in his mouth. Phantom snuggles down, pulling the covers over both of them, his eyes closing with a purr rumbling though his chest, holding Mountain close to him.

#I didn’t edit this so if you see a mistake no you didn’t #ficlet #the band ghost #ghost headcanons #mountain ghoul #phantom ghoul #aeon ghoul #puppy mountain #my love for puppy mountain grows more and more each day #Ask #thanks for the ask! ❤️#my writing #pet regression

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aussiepineapple1st · 11 months

Text

How Long? (Part 4)

Leon x F!Reader

Words: 2,180 Contains: Caring Husband Leon, Pregnancy.

Part 1 | Previous | Next

You wake up to the sound of shuffling in the snow outside the tent you slept in. Not wanting to get out of the warm sleeping bag, Leon had laid his own on top of you to give you that extra warmth. Shifting out of the thickly lined cocoon, you pull on your shoes and tie them up, doing up your pants with slight difficulty. You were already starting to not fit into your work pants, it's fine, you would just wear them a bit lower than usual.

Walking out of the tent the snow made everything bright, even though there was no sun. You saw Leon and Chris sitting around the fire, eating what seemed to be bacon and eggs as you approach.

Chris spots you first, stopping his conversation with Leon who turns to see who he was looking at. "Morning. We were about to go and wake you." Chris smiled as he pulls a pan sitting beside coals to keep it warm. Plating up the egg and 2 pieces of bacon, handing it to you.

"Thank you." You say digging in. Your stomach was growling, you were really hungry this morning. Leon's brows raise as he watched you tuck into your food. He shovels an egg and another piece of bacon from his own plate onto yours, you clearly needed it. Giving Leon a smile you eventually eat what he had given you, finishing everything.

Leon was currently standing behind you, he had just equipped himself with ammunition and 2 extra handguns to the one he had brought from home. Handing you an extra one to add to your own spare holster on your side. "You must've been hungry? Could it be because you didn't eat dinner last night?" He asked in a teasing tone.

"Could be." Is all you say, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting his desired reaction from you. You take the gun and stand up, throwing the paper plate into the fire before shoving the gun in your holster. Pulling the little strap over and clicking the button to secure it. Turning to look at Leon, he was standing there with his arms over his chest, eyes looking you up and down. "What?" You ask looking down to your body to see if you had spilt some food on your front?

"Nothing, you are just standing different."

"What is that supposed to mean?" You scrunch up your face, genuinely confused at his statement.

Leon just shakes his head with closed eyes, a subtle smile on his lips. Releasing his arms from their locked position over his chest he steps aside. "Chris is waiting for us to go visit the Winters."

You nod and walk passed your husband, making your way to the Ute Chris was waiting for you both in. Leon allows you to take the passenger seat in the front and sits in the back, leaving almost instantly to the Winters' home. You had been driving for half an hour before speaking up.

"So do you have a sighting on this Miranda person?" You ask Chris, pulling your gaze from the window to look at him beside you.

"We do, but... She keeps dropping off our radar during the day." He explained.

"But she comes back at night?" Leon asks from behind Chris. You turn to look at Leon then back to Chris for his answer.

He nods. "Yeah. She vanishes from sight at 4am and comes back at 1am without fail for the passed 2 months." Chris sighs. He was clearly frustrated with himself.

"You aren't able to track where she's going?" You ask.

"Not without alerting her to our presence. I believe we've stayed off her radar this long, we don't want to jeopardise the mission. That, but mainly risk the Winters being put in danger if she knows we're here to stop her."

You and Leon both seem to nod in sync, your gaze falling upon a beautiful old house in the distance. Chris pulls up at the front and turns off the engine. "We're here." He says opening his door and sliding out of the car.

You and Leon follow suit, walking up behind Chris to the front door. After he knocks there was a short time before a man opens the door, greeting you all and stepping aside to let you enter his home. The man wore jeans and a navy hoody under a flaxen jacket, his hair was short and blonde. The man's face was kind and you could see in his eyes that he was tired, probably been up early from his baby needing a feed.

"These are close friends, Leon and (Y/N). They've been assigned to help me with the current job I'm on." Chris introduced.

"Nice to meet you both." He shakes each of your hands then closed the door behind you. "Are you sure you don't need my help at all, Chris?"

"I'm sure Ethan, We just came to talk about how you and Mia are handling your new work schedule." Chris walks through to the dinning and lounge room area, seeming at home himself here.

"Please." Ethan offers you to both follow Chris into the living room, following behind. "Can I get either of you anything?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine." You smile shaking your head as you look around at all the pictures of the family. One standing out to you on the mantle above the fire. Staring at a picture of Mia, holding her belly with loving eyes. You smile as Leon walks up beside you, his hand resting on your lower back as he sees what you were looking at. You couldn't help but smile up at him.

"Are you both a couple?" Ethan asked seeing the way you stood together.

The question makes you both turn around, Leon removing his hand from your back and clearing his throat. He got caught in the moment and forgot you were on a job. "Yes, we're married." You answer with a smile, turning back around to see a picture of Mia with Rose. She didn't seem to be posing for the picture at all, it was taken in the spare of the moment. She looked at her baby daughter with such love.

"I see, please take a seat if you want?" Ethan offers the longer lounge, Chris currently sitting in a single armchair.

"No thank you, I was actually wondering if I could talk with Mia?" You ask. Leon was making his way over to the lounge.

"She's upstairs, just putting Rose down to sleep."

You nod with a smile, making your way to the front door and up the stairs you had seen when first entering. Making your way upstairs you wanted to be silent, and not wake Rose if she was already asleep. Once at the top of the stairs you hear humming, following the sound you hear who you assume to be Mia. Singing a tune to Rose, you peak through the cracked door to see her laying the baby in her crib.

"Rest well, sweet Rose. Not much longer before you are mine." She speaks down to the baby.

You frown, from what you knew about Miranda your hackles went up. Maybe you just heard her wrong? Knocking on the door after waiting for a moment, you didn't want her to think you had just heard what she said.

"Yes?" She called quietly. You clench your jaw, her voice sounded completely different to what you had just heard.

Opening the door slowly you peek your head through. "Hello, I was just coming up here to meet you and Rose. I will be quiet, Ethan told us you were putting her to bed."

"Oh, you must be the two agents Ethan was talking about last night?"

Crap! She knew who you were. You nod. "Yeah, my husband and I were assigned to help Chris with some field work." You say standing at the door, your hands awkwardly clasped in front of you. "May I?"

"Oh, yes." She motions for you to come over.

Walking over to the crib you see the sleeping baby, she looked so peaceful. Seeing her almost made you forget about the danger standing right beside you.

"You said you and your husband were here, right? Do you both have children?" The woman beside you asked.

"Oh.. no but." Should you tell her? Maybe it would give her some incentive to target you instead of this poor family. "We are expecting our first."

Mira- Mia placed her hands in front of her lips. "Oh, congratulations! I'm so happy for you both."

You give her a smile and then look down to Rose once more before stepping away from the crib. "I should probably get back to the others downstairs." You say before Mia nods to you and you walk out of the room. You try to keep your stride at a normal pace, keeping your footing light as to not wake Rose. Making your way down the stairs you enter the living room once again. Looking over to you Leon's expression dropped, he stood up quickly seeing your own expression. You had lost a bit of your colour and cheeks were flushed.

"What's wrong?" He asked, this had Chris turning towards you as well.

You shake your head. "I'm fine, I just need to sit down." You couldn't say anything, not here. Where was Mia? Ethan had no clue about who was up there with his daughter. You don't even think he knew about what you were really here for and the danger his family was currently in. Leon was already over at your side, guiding you to the lounge. Ethan and Chris could tell something was up, but none of the three men knew what it could be.

Once seated you go silent. Just listening to the conversation once it started up again. Mia comes downstairs and joins, but Chris makes it quick as you had given him a look that you needed to leave. Not just yourself, but the three of you needed to leave.

"As long as you are keeping up with everything and not overworking yourself." Chris finished as he left the threshold of the house. You had already made your way towards the Ute and hopped in the back. Leon was waiting for Chris before hopping in beside you.

You sat there with your head in your hands, you were regretting you had told her you were pregnant. She knew who you were, and now she probably was cluing onto the mission, if she didn't already know. Chris had started driving and you made sure you were far enough away before you spoke.

"Do you mind telling us what happened in there?" Chris asked, Leon was still rubbing circles on your upper back.

"That's not Mia.."

"What?!" They both said in unison. "What do you mean it's not Mia?" Chris adds.

"When I went up to meet her, she sounded completely different. I thought maybe I heard her wrong, but she said it wasn't long until she was hers."

"SHIT!" Chris hits the steering wheel. It made sense to him now, why she was coming back and then vanishing. It had come to his mind a few times. When he would monitor Mia upon visiting, even when Ethan was away. she seemed normal. Of course she would act like a loving mother towards Rose if she was seeing her as her own daughter.

"Did she say anything else?" Leon asked.

"She knew we are agents, but I don't know if she suspects anything. We need to be extra careful." You warn.

"We'll invade tonight."

"Invade?" Leon asked. "The house?"

Chris nods as he drives faster towards the mountains. "It's not safe there anymore." He pressed the earpiece on his ear. "Umber Eyes, I need you and Tundra to head into the village and search for any sign of Mia Winters. We think Miranda has been shifting into Mia." He was silent for a few seconds before responding. "Copy, we are almost back at camp, have the others ready to go through an invasion plan."

Your eyes search Leon's face as he listens to Chris' words. You know how much he hated invading on unsuspecting families, even if the mother was confirmed to be the big bad you were currently after. He had sat back in the seat, his hand now resting on your back as he was deep in thought. Reaching your hand over you place it on his leg beside yours, he looks down to your hand and then up to your eyes. Without even having to say anything you were giving him your 'everything will be okay' look. You then watch him nod, hardly even noticeable as he swallows hard, his jaw tensing.

"Rose and Ethan won't be in the way, Leon." Chris said from the front, he knew how Leon felt about this type of thing as well. But Miranda hadn't given them much of a choice, they had to act quickly.

Part 1 | Previous | Next

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat @growingupnrealizing @starcrossedreaders @mae-is-crazy @sunhatllama @sailorchaos21

lookie what I found waiting in my patreon to be read😅😅

#aussiepineapple1st #chris redfield #ethan winters #how long?#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x f!reader #leon x fem!reader #leon x female reader #leon x reader #mia winters #re village #re8 #resident evil #resident evil au #resident evil village #rose winters #biohazard

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astolfofo · 12 days

Note

Aventurine + only one bed trope

(No you both have to sleep on the bed- don't try "I'll/He will sleep on the floor or anything of the sort)

That's it

Let is infest in your brain and stays there rent free

Written as me????? I guess???????. Realistically. I’d probably just take the blanket from him and use it like a sleeping bag. Or I’d just lay there. Unable to sleep at all. Because no way am I trusting him to be that close to me. Even while fully conscious. Probably couldn’t even move a centimetre because it’s gonna wake him up.

Okay note; UM SO I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS BRO IM. NAH IM GONNA REGRET THIS IN THW MORNING. 😭😭😭😭😭 if you open keep reading it’s raw dialogue with no editing just a fyi. It’s 4am. Cut me some slack 💀 also this is some really disjointed writing and prob ooc

————-

It had been a while since you had been forced to stay in a hotel. Sure, you liked staying away from home. But not under this kind of circumstance.

You just didn’t know what to expect. Aventurine had to practically drag you away from the platform (much against your own will. You had already boarded the train, ready to get the hell out of here) into an expensive-looking hotel. You assumed he had some kind of connection with this certain one because he didn’t even glance at the check-in counter. Just pulled you by the arm into one of the suites on the highest floor. You guess he chose the highest floor, specifically so you couldn’t get away that easily again.

the door clicks when you insert the card in, and you slowly push it open. The door seems to close very quickly, and you barely manage to hold it open.

It’s heavy.

You push the door open again, and and walk in. The door almost immediately slams shut this time, followed by two clicks.

one, was the door lock.

the second was a lock typically stored where a door chain was. It required a code to open. One that you didn’t know.

You then see the single bed in the middle of the room, and the colour instantly drains from your face. You were locked inside a room, stuck with none other than a suspicious man. A suspicious man that you were trying to get away from no less than two full hours ago.

you feel a gloved hand slink over your shoulder.. immidieately, you want to recoil. Sink into the floor. Run away. Slap the hand off. But you don’t. You stand there. Still.

“You didn’t expect me to let you off that easily did you?”

You don’t need to turn your head around to know who it is. You don’t want to hear his voice. Pretend he’s not there.

“You’re going to sharing the same room with me tonight,” he continues, leaning closer into you, “You’re okay with that, right?”

You didn’t respond. It wasn’t like you had a choice. You really should’ve brought that lock cutter along with you.

Aventurine doesn’t seem to mind though. You don’t ever recall seeing someone so giddly about anything. Ever.

——-

You stare at the single bed in the room. “Aventurine, there’s only one bed…”

He says nothing in return but you really do not want to see his facial expression right now either.

“Um… I guess… I’ll just sleep on the floor then. You can have the bed.”

“You’re not really suggesting you’re going to sleep on that cold, hard, floor without anything are you?”

“I’m not going to be sleeping anyways. It makes no difference whether I sleep on the floor or on the bed.”

“Seriously? You’d rather not sleep at all before even considering sharing a bed with me? Do you really hate me that much?”

“It’s not the first time I haven’t been able to sleep because of you,” You snapped. “plus, it’s not even the first night I didn’t sleep at all.” You added, ”I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyways if I had to share a bed with you.”

“Then why don’t I make you fall asleep, hm? Would you… prefer that instead?”

“Hell no! You’re the last person I’d let-“

“But your face is turning bright red, is it not?’

“Yeah well that’s because your embarrassing me!”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about you know…”

“Whatever. You’re not doing that. I won’t hesitate to saw that sorry thing off you if you even try it.”

“Oh that’s such a scary threat,” He replies, sarcastically. “But I promise you… that when we do it… you won’t want me to stop.”

He leans closer. “You’ll be begging me not to stop. I’m going to make a mess out of you. I’m going to fuck you until this cute little personality of yours melts away. Until you can’t even remember your own na-“

You throw a pillow and hit him square in the face. “You…. You…”

He laughs and pulls the pillow off his face. “You’re interested now, aren’t you?”

“I am NOT. Interested. Disgusted would be a better term to suit what I just heard.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs, “It’s going to happen one day though, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Last thing you could make me do is enjoy… that.”

“You can say that all you want, darling.”

You glare at him hard enough that he puts his hands up as a sign of peace.

”So anyways, do you want the left side of the bed or the right side of the bed?”

#Yandere aventurine #yandere aventurine x reader #Aventurine x reader #Yandere hsr #honkai star rail x reader #You’re gonna need to wheedle me to write smut after I’m fucking done with the quest I felt geninue post nut clarity from just that #Bit of dialogue

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daydreamgoddess14 · 9 months

Text

Support System pt. 7

MASTERLIST

CH1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6

Roy Kent x Reader

Little wait for this one, I wanted Chapter 6 to marinade a bit 😂

More spicy spice so enjoy!

Chapter 7

The next day you were again woken shortly before 4am again with a breathtaking kiss.

“Oi, not fair. Did you know I’m statistically less prepared to defend myself from some weirdo attacking me at this stupid time in the morning?” You roll over, mumbling into the pillow. You remember that he doesn't even need to be awake, "also, why the hell are you awake? Go back to sleep. You’ve got a match later." He doesn't respond, so you open one eye,

"How do you know that?" He asks, pulling you against him.

"Saw it on Tiktok. Sleep now." You nudge him, wiggling back down.

"Stop wiggling." He says, his voice low in your ear. You stop, and close your eyes but after a few minutes it's clear that you are, unfortunately, awake. You sigh. "What now?"

"You woke me up." You complain. “If you think I’m going to be woken up at 4am every morning, you are very much mistaken,” he slips a hand over your thigh, pulls your leg up and hooks it back over his own, opening you up to him. His hand comes back around to your centre, “I will just never spend a night with you again and-” you cut off with a gasp as he slips two fingers inside you and pumps so agonisingly slowly,

“You were sayin’?” He kisses the back of your neck and you arch your body towards him.

“I’m not staying again.”

“No?” You feel him rock hard against your back and your willpower is all but gone. “Sure about that?”

“No, ohhh fuck, Roy-”

“No,” he laughs softly, “didn’t think so.” You roll onto your back and pull him over you, pressing your heels into the back of his thighs to guide him into you. It’s still so dark in his room that you can hardly see him so you let your hands lead you. Up his arms, over his broad back, down to squeeze his thigh, back up and into his hair. He matches you with each roll of your hips. It’s slow and lazy and there’s so little space between you both that the friction is to die for. The darkness makes you both quieter, his whispered affirmations, praise and moans are dizzying. He takes you over the edge with him and you’re both asleep again almost instantly.

~~~~~~~~

Roy had suggested that you stay again. He had said that while pressed against the glass of a shared shower with you on your knees for him, though. His hands had tangled in your hair and he'd garbled promises you weren't sure he'd remember in five minutes, let alone five hours so you weren’t actually sure where you were staying that night. You were going to the match at midday with Sara and Phoebe which meant coded conversations over Phoebe’s head.

“Go on then.” She prompts.

“What?”

“No.” She points, “no. I got blank stares from him yesterday until I mentioned your name and he went all doe eyed. What’s going on?”

“If you’ve spoken with him then surely you already know?” You suggest, trying not to smile. She glares at you and you’re suddenly worried that she’s not ok with any of this. “Ok, fine. I popped in to see him the other night after I’d taken Lex to her dads… I may have stayed the night. And last night as well. And possibly tonight - yet to be confirmed.” You had to whisper most of your reply so Phoebe didn’t catch on. “Shit, are you mad?"

"No! Fuck, sorry, it's the Kent genes - resting bitch face. God, I'm not mad! I have like 1000 questions - at least 997 I don't want to know the answer to since,” she dropped to a dramatic whisper, “he's my brother.” She grinned and gestured down to Phoebe, “She’s going to be so happy!” She mouthed. “Are you ok? I mean, I’m assuming the answer is yes, since you stayed more than one night and didn’t leave immediately?” She cackled. You nod, stealing a glance down at the pitch as the halftime whistle sounds. Roy turns to the stands as the teams filter off the pitch to catch your eye.

“Yeah, so far so good. It’s… different.” Sara cocks an eyebrow.

“Now I’m in torn territory - do I want to know or not?” You wave her off,

“No! I mean, yes, that’s very different too - I’m not used to feeling so…” you flap your hands around a bit, trying to find the right words, “wanted?” you whisper. “In all ways. But y’know, it’s very, very early days. I have no idea what’s going to happen, or how it’s going to go. I’m just trying to protect myself, and Lexie.” She smiles at you,

“I think you wouldn’t have gone over there if you were that unsure. You wouldn’t just, y’know, do that with anybody. And neither would he.” She points out.

“Yeah?”

“Remember what we said at the beach? Honestly, that’s not his style.” You know it’s true so you concede and carry on with watching the match. The team wins - they’re so close to winning the whole thing, the whole town feels like it’s on tenterhooks.

“Congratulations.” You smile after the match, you can see in how he clenches and unclenches his fist that he wants to touch you, but Phoebe is bouncing up and down on his other arm chattering on about how she can’t wait to see Jamie.

“We’re going back to mums, you coming?”

“Only if you want me there?” Phoebe spots Jamie through the crowd and races after him, Sara has to book it after her. His hand finds the small of your back guiding you over to them,

“I want you every fucking where.” He whispers in your ear as you reach the others. You have a fun but fraught afternoon, Jamie comes too and you can see how he keeps engaging Phoebe. You're not sure whether it’s a help or hindrance having him around. He keeps Phoebe and her nan occupied enough that Roy can use any excuse to find little ways to touch you, but he’s also very perceptive and can’t seem to fathom why one of Phoebe’s friend’s mums is there. Sara claims you as her best friend and it appeases him. You’re very nearly caught with Roy’s hand halfway up your top in the far end of the kitchen but just as Jamie is about to turn and see you, Phoebe calls out to him to get his attention. By the time he turns back around, there’s a couple of strategic metres between you both. Your phone buzzes late on with a message.

Please tell me you’re stopping at mine again. You smirk and fire off a reply,

Is that you asking nicely?

I asked nicely this morning

Surprised you can remember anything you said this morning

I remember everything about this morning

You look up to see him trying to hide a smile behind his beer bottle. You’re barely inside the front door when he’s backing you against the wall and there’s probably some kind of record beaten in just how quickly he makes you come.

~~~~~~~~

The kids are back at school, you haven’t enjoyed a 4am wake up for three days, you’re still jobless, you’re expected at a gala with Roy’s co-workers in two days, and you still haven’t found anything to wear. He’s offered his card (multiple times) for you to ‘buy whatever the fuck you want as long as I can take it off’. Switchover day for Lexie is tomorrow, closely followed by the gala. It’s been a busy few days so despite school runs you haven’t even seen Roy for a good few days. Sara has collected Lexie on your behalf so you swing by on your way home to pick her up. You peek around to say hello to the girls sprawled out on the sofa and then you’re dragged to the far end of the kitchen.

“So the Gala huh?"

"He told you?"

"He said you were stressing over what to wear, suggested I take you to find something while he hangs out with the kids this evening." At that, the front door opened. "I'll let you have a couple of minutes alone since you haven't seen each other for such a long time." She rolled her eyes in jest.

"You're both sneaky." You point out as Roy's arms wrap around you.

"Not true," he says into your ear. "Thanks, dickhead." He smiles at his sister. Sara gives him a little salute and grabs some snacks to take to the girls. You turn in his arms, "Fuck, I missed you."

"I missed you. Had to watch that press conference for a fix, and then you made me cry." You laugh.

"I need to try and keep my hands off you for half a week. Think I’ll manage as long as they're on you as much as possible for the other half a week."

"Deal." You may have been apart for half a week, but you've spoken every day. 'Lexie' days are in his calendar for at least the next few weeks. "I have a big problem." You whisper, he looks down between you both making you snigger. "No, you idiot. My problem is that it's been way too long since you last kissed me."

"Shit, that is a big problem," he agrees.

"It gets worse," you pause for dramatic effect, "If you do it now, I'm not going to want you to stop and we'll get in trouble with your sister and the kids."

"I mean, that sounds like a problem for you more than me. Cos I'm going to fucking kiss you anyway."

"You have to be in charge of stopping then." He's halfway to kissing you when he stops,

"I think I like the sound of that a bit too much." You smirk and meet him in the middle, snaking your arms around his neck.

“Right, that’s time up.” Sara came back through with her eyes covered. “We’ve got to go and get you something wonderful to wear.” Roy reluctantly lets you go with a final kiss, and then goes to make his presence known with the girls. You’re barely out the door when they’ve put a tiara on his head.

~~~~~~~~

You’re not having much luck with a dress.

“This one?” You step out of the changing room for what feels like the millionth time.

“Nah, too plain.”

“I hate this. Is it too late to just not go?” You go back behind the curtain and take the dress off. There’s two more left to try, one baby pink and one royal blue. Chelsea blue you think, taking the dress from the hanger.

“You can’t not go, he wants you there. Plus, think of the afterparty” She winks before making a fake vomiting sound. “God, it pains me to have to think about my brother in this context.”

“Ha! Sorry. Oh holy fucking shit.” You squeak.

“What? Ugh it’s not the pink one is it? I only picked that one up because the sales assistant suggested it. Is it gross?” She laughs. You step out of the changing room and her jaw drops. “Fucking hell. Hang on, stay there, what’s your shoe size?”

“6, why?” She disappears back into the shop and is back in a matter of seconds,

“I saw these on our way in here. They’re perfect.” She hands you the highest gold glitter heels you’ve ever seen and you step up into them, holding her hands for balance. She steps well back to take in the full effect. “That’s it - that’s the one. And it’s Chelsea blue, he’s going to lose his fucking mind.” You look in the full length mirror,

“The slit?”

“Is perfect, stop worrying.”

“The neckline?”

“He’s seen you naked love, it’s perfect. You are wearing the shit out of it.”

“It costs half my mortgage Sara!” You look at the tag.

“If I recall correctly, I’m under strict instructions to tell you - and this is word for word, obviously, ‘that’s not your fucking problem, buy the dress’. Such an eloquent man, my brother.” You’re torn,

“I’m not a charity case Sara,”

“I know. Look, he does this, it’s not about the money or thinking you're not independent or any of that shit. What it boils down to for him is that he’s taking away something that’s worrying you - he does it for me. Like picking Phoebe up from school for me, or training Jamie at 4am every sodding day. He finds the thing that’s worrying the people he cares about, and he tries to fix it.” Your eyes swim with tears and you hold your hands up in defeat.

“Ok, I get it. Worry eliminated.”

“Atta girl. Now, let’s go home.”

“I got rejections from the two interviews I had last week.” You tell her suddenly, the words tumbling from you.

“Ohh lovely, come here,” she pulled you into a hug and you cry on her shoulder,

“I just feel like such an idiot, why did I quit with nothing to go to? And I don’t want Roy to think I’m some sort of golddigger.”

“Why would he think that? He might be a total knob sometimes, but he’s not an idiot. I take it you haven’t told him yet?” You shake your head.

“Come on. Let’s go, a Roy Kent cuddle makes everything better.” You smile at her,

“A Sara one is pretty good too. Thank you.”

Roy has one child snuggled up on either side of him with a bowl of popcorn on his lap and Encanto on when you get back to Sara’s. You manage to take a very quick photo before any of them spots you.

“Mum!”

“Hiya poppet. Ready to go?”

“I’ll take you.” You flash him a smile,

“Thank you.” You pack Lexie’s stuff up and say goodbye to Sara and Phoebe, and are outside your front door all too soon. For some reason, Lexie is lingering around the front door so you're forced to wave Roy off with a smile.

“Laters Lex.”

“See ya Roy,” she grins at him. He disappears up the path and you start hustling her upstairs to get ready for bed. She’s still jumping on your bed when the door goes again.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back - start getting ready for your bath please.” You nip down the stairs and pull open the door. Roy Kent is back on your doorstep. “Oh my god, are you the Roy Kent? The really fit coach for Richmond?” You ask excitedly.

“Depends, can I have a kiss if I say yes?”

“Depends how long you make me wait for another one.”

“Tomorrow any good for you?” He leans on the doorframe.

“I can do tomorrow.”

“Good.”

“Good.” You tug at the bottom of his t-shirt and he steals an arm around your back to pull you into a deep, crushing kiss.

“Tomorrow?” He asks when he’s finally let you go. You can hear Lexie still jumping on the bed upstairs. You let your fingertips brush against the soft skin of his stomach underneath his t-shirt, making him shiver.

“See you tomorrow.” You give him a final kiss and let him go.

~~~~~~~~

You don't have to look far to see him the next evening, but it's still a surprise - he's parked up at the station and is out of the car, leaning against the door waiting to pick you up.

"Get in the fucking car." He grins, pulling you into a kiss as soon as you are in arms reach. "Ted had to ask me three times today if I was paying attention." You turn in your seat to look at him fully,

"Oh come on, that's bullshit!"

"It's true. Had to threaten to punch dicks - they all said I was too fucking happy and I was being

weird. I think Jamie’s onto me."

"Uhoh. Is the grumpy persona being destroyed?"

"Only around you." He puts a hand on your thigh while he drives, stopping off at yours. “Get some stuff, I don’t want to have to lose you for an hour every bloody morning.” He grumbles. You collect the things you know you’ll need. When you get to his place, he's already cooked.

"I could get used to this," you tease. "So this gala," you ask over some gorgeous Mediterranean vegetable dish, "your co-workers will all be there?"

"They will." He confirms, waiting for you to continue.

"And your ex?" you add quietly.

"Keeley will be there, yes." You nod, pushing your food around your plate.

"I met her once." He's still watching you, dinner finished with.

"Yeah?"

"I had to run an event she came to for work. She was really sweet."

"She is. I think you'll like her." He smiles reassuringly.

“And you're sure you want me to meet these people? Your people?”

“Yes, I am.” He said firmly. “You don’t have to tell any of ‘em about us - tell them whatever you want. They can take the piss out of me as much as they like. I really don't give a shit." He continues to reassure you in a number of exhilarating ways for the rest of the night. He leaves you at 4am yet again with a kiss that has your body clenching on nothing, desperate again for his touch. You’re half awake when he returns at 6 but it’s a horrible day outside already so he lets you know he’s going straight in the shower. You can hear the kettle, so you pull on the t-shirt he’s just taken off so you can go downstairs to make tea for you both. It’s not familiar, it’s an old Richmond home shirt. When he comes down, your leaning over the counter on your elbows reading from your phone and making notes on a scrap of paper while the tea brews. His arms circle you and to your surprise, you feel him press against you.

“Wow, hi.” You turn to face him with a little laugh.

“You’re wearing m’name,” he manages to say gruffly before kissing you roughly.

“Sorry, I just grabbed it to come down here, I’ll take it-”

“No.” He stops you, “No.” He says more firmly. He rests his forehead against yours, his hips still against you. Oh. It dawns on you. Oh. You kiss him briefly, nodding your understanding and turn back around for him, resting on your forearms. “Fuck,” you hear him, so quietly, “fuck. You wreck me.” He slips inside you with no real warning, filling you completely. He sets a wickedly punishing pace, the angle has you an incoherent mess and makes you come almost instantly. It’s fast and rough and utterly filthy, your name spills from him like a worshipping chant as he comes, dragging another orgasm from you as he does. When you’re able to stand, you turn back to him. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hands soothing the bruises he’s no doubt left on your hips. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-” he starts to say, you shake your head,

“No. Don’t be sorry, don’t be. I’d tell you if I wasn’t ok with something, ok?” You reassure him with a kiss.

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #roy kent #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff #roy kent fic #roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine #roy kent smut #roy kent x you

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jaegeraether · 4 months

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 44)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (39) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson Mini (3)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**This is now my largest chapter at 7.5k. Enjoy!**))

YFN had instantly fallen asleep in her seat on the plane and woke to the jolt of the landing gear absorbing the impact on touchdown. She shook her fatigue away and took her phone off flight mode. 11:15am UK time. She gave a sigh of relief that the flight had been quicker than usual. She knew she’d been cutting it close with the flight time and instead of Ruby picking her up as planned, she’d told her to go to the stadium instead so she could get an Uber. It worked out well, because it meant she had time to speak to Jordan without feeling rude talking in front of Ruby.

She collected her bags and timed the Uber well, hopping in immediately as she exited the building. The stadium was thirty minutes from the airport so she’d be arriving just at kick off. She wasn't too concerned, though. Bridget and Emily were also in Manchester for a 1300 game between Man City and Brighton and were getting a bit more experience up onsite with Ruby at her game. She was lucky to have such good workmates.

She slid into the cab with a polite hello and found the only contact with a fish in it.

“Hey chicken! How was Barcelona?”

“Oh my god, Dory, it was amazing. Absolutely amazing. But I’m dead on my feet.”

Jordan laughed. “I’m guessing Lucy didn’t let you sleep much?”

“Don’t be cheeky. But you are correct.”

“How many hours are you running on?”

She counted. “I had two hours sleep on the plane so…about five hours?”

“What?!”

“I think…I remember we had a ‘midnight snack’ but that was about 4am so…”

“You’re unbelievable. Priorities, right?”

YFN chuckled. “I have no regrets beyond the struggle to walk-”

“Oh god! I don’t want to hear it.”

They both laughed together.

“How are you? Tell me everything.”

Jordan hummed and then proceeded to tell YFN about her dreams and the flowers and note that morning.

“Why didn’t you lead with that?!”

“I don't know. Good news before bad?”

“You think the flowers and note are bad news?”

“I don’t know. My head’s all over the place from the dreams. They were good and bad, but it’s just wrecked me emotionally.”

“I understand that…it’s not great for game day. Are you on your way there now?”

“Yeah, I’m on the bus. We have another hour and a half to go.”

“Well, you can’t resolve these emotions before the game because that would be a miracle. So how about you put a movie on and distract yourself? Don’t sleep, you won’t be able to.

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that to be fair…”

“Perfect. Have you messaged her?”

“No. I can’t do that today. Trying not to mess with my head before the game.”

“That’s all good, I was going to suggest maybe not responding until after the game.”

“You’re doing two games today, aren’t you?”

YFN’s mouth almost dropped open. “You have no idea how proud I am that you remembered that? I told you a while ago...”

“Oh, sorry, I should probably keep up my forgetfulness, right? Who are you again?”

YFN laughed. “I love forgetful Dory. She’s my favourite. Along with cuddly Dory. Football Dory though…jeez she’s terrifying.”

“I definitely will be today.”

“Get those emotions out, girl! Just don’t hurt anyone or get red carded please.”

“No promises.”

“As for your question, yep. I have the 1200 Man United versus West Ham game at Leigh and then the 1845 Arsenal versus Leicester game at King Power.”

“Oh that's right! Kyra…”

YFN had obviously told Jordan about Kyra. They both thought it was cute.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Our bus will drop us back at Villa Park about 7pm tonight…I can drive and meet you there?”

YFN could tell that Jordan needed comfort, and most of her friends were in London. She did the timing math in her head.

“You’d arrive about 8pm tonight with the traffic…how about you get a lift with my guy, Matt? He’s relocating to my game and then driving me back to Birmingham after it’s done.”

“Oh, yeah! That works out brilliant, that does. God, you’re so good at this logistics stuff. I just kick a ball around.”

YFN had a giggle at the visual image and messaged Matt. “And you look great doing it. Plus, you do more than that and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

YFN bit her lip as she thought a little. Jordan needed some love, and she knew just what to do. “What do you think about us asking Katie and Caitlin to stay the night? We’ll all finish up around 9pm in Leicester so they’ll have overnight accommodation. If I message them then they’ll have time for the team to cancel their room. They can come home with us.”

“Ohhh I didn’t think of that! See, this is why you’re the best.”

YFN grinned at the sound of genuine happiness in Jordan’s voice. She knew she missed them a lot.

She looked up and could see the stadium approaching in the distance. “I’m excited! Okay, I’m almost at the stadium. I’ll message the group.”

“Okay, love you!”

“Love you more. I’m so excited to see you tonight! Have a good game today, please. Smash it.”

They hung up happy and she opened a message from Matt that replied with an excited yes. Being a Villa supporter meant his dream just came true. YFN wondered how the car ride with them would be to Leicester and couldn’t help but be amused.

YFN then put a message in their little four-way group. Caitlin was usually the first to respond whether it be message or Instagram, and today was no exception. She’d answered an unequivocal yes for the both of them before she’d even stepped foot into the stadium.

The national anthems were playing just as she arrived and met up with her workmates. Bridget was running the boundary line, excitedly videoing the singing while Emily and Ruby were taking photos.

“Hey, Em.”

“YFN! Hi!” She gushed, wearing her purple and yellow Lumos hoodie. YFN was wearing Lucy’s hoodie so she opted for a beanie instead. “How was your flight?”

“I slept the entire trip,” she admitted with a chuckle.

Emily snapped a few shots of the starting line-ups.

“How are you and Bridget?”

“Oh, great! Yeah, we’re excited to be staying in Manchester tonight. Because we all have tomorrow off, we have plans to sight see and visit some family.”

They chatted for a little longer when YFN recognised the photographer from the last game she’d been to. The one who followed her home. She pretended to not notice him as she kept speaking to Emily and then made her way around the field to get a few good videos and say hi to Ruby and Bridget also. Bridget was running a mile a minute as she usually did, and Ruby mentioned that she had a date with Matt the next day. Ruby also ran a mile a minute, just with her mouth rather than her legs like Bridget. The whistle blew.

“Oh are those two already leaving already?” She asked rhetorically as Bridget and Emily waved on the way out. “Aw I didn’t say bye! Anyways, Matt said he’d take me on a date but I don’t know where-” she snapped a few photos and then cringed at the tackle she’d just captured, “-and I know it’s going to be amazing because we’ve been talking for a while now and…well not a while but since we all met and we were first partnered up-” she jogged further up the field to take another and came back when she was satisfied, “-and we’ve both been talking about supervising this next group of people coming in and we’re so excited for them to join us-” she took photos while YFN pulled her phone out to get a good Instagram video of Man United’s goal as they were both standing just a few metres from the West Ham goal. Goal number one, just three minutes in. YFN uploaded the video straight to their social media with an update on the score, “-and I just think it’s going to be amazing to have so many people with us. Is that guy staring at us?”

YFN turned to the photographer who’d been following her around the boundary, more focussed on her than the game.

“Yeah…just ignore him. He won’t hurt us.” She said, repeating what Catherine had said to her. Phone still on video mode in her hand, she pressed record but before she could lift her arm up to video him, they were interrupted.

“Now, now, physical violence isn’t my thing.” The voice teased from behind them.

YFN didn’t even have to turn, but she did out of polite habit as Mark stepped next to her, his eyes focussed on the game. She kept her phone on record and down near her body, but angling the mic towards him.

“Mark.”

“YFN. I hear you had a lovely trip up to Edinburgh to meet your…controversial leader.”

Ruby frowned, not understanding.

“He’s just teasing,” she assured. “Could you give us a minute?”

Ruby nodded and headed back up the field.

“So none of them know then?”

“What could you possibly be referring to, Mark?”

“Joanne.” He almost hissed. “That heartless woman.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Well let me be clear, then. I know your boss. She took something from me, so I’m going to tear her whole fucking business down.”

“Which business would that be?”

“The only one not protected by a board. Lumos. Her baby that she’s trying so desperately to hide. And you know exactly how I’m going to start?”

“By getting a photographer to follow me?”

He gave a grin that sent shivers down her spine. “Something along those lines.”

He handed her a large yellow envelope. Against her better judgement, she took it and looked inside. She found several printed photos of herself and Lucy kissing at the airport. The photos weren’t the best quality, they looked like they’d been taken on a phone, but still…it was disturbing.

She turned her attention back to the game as if she were unbothered. “Congratulations. You gave me photos of my girlfriend and I. You do realise that we are public? We have nothing to hide.”

“You don’t think that someone in your position dating one of the most famous footballers of all time is a conflict of interest? Let me give you some advice…people will care. Whoever Joanne has investing in her company will. And this is just the start. I’ll get more and more dirt on not just you, but your workmates also. I’ll drag you all into the fucking ground.”

She sharply breathed in. “You want to ruin a good thing for a little rivalry?”

“A good thing?” He scoffed. “Nobody wants to watch women play. Look around you. The stands are only filled with friends and family. As for everyone who works at Lumos…” He shrugged. “Collateral.”

YFN let herself look at him. He was determined and deadly serious.

“See that photographer? Get used to seeing him around. As for Joe…tell her I’m going to tear down her company before it even begins.”

It was a dominant display by Manchester United who ended up winning 5-0 with five different goal scorers. YFN felt for West Ham who she’d grown a soft spot for since her visit, and especially felt empathetic for their Captain, Mackenzie Arnold, a fellow Australian, as she was the goalkeeper. She couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been mentally after a game like that. You’d feel like it was all your fault while having to be the one to pull the team together.

A few of the players wandered over to her after the match, one being Mackenzie. She gave her a hug and surprisingly agreed to an interview. She interviewed her alongside Mary Earps, letting the two talk business. Mary didn’t exactly have a quiet game, she’d had shots that she’d saved and they both bantered about that, with YFN steering the questions when and where she wanted. The fact that they both pointed out the brilliance in several different moments of each teams and gushed over not just their team but the opposite was the exact reason she’d fallen in love with women’s football. After those two, she interviewed Kirsty Smith and Riko Ueki with Ella Toone and Lucia Garcia. The dynamics of who she put together were interesting and got the results she wanted. She felt like she was Graham Norton putting interesting guests on and leading them here and there with questions, making sure they each felt acknowledged and appreciated for their time and their skill on the pitch.

They finished up around 2:30pm and stopped for a late lunch and some quick editing and posts before they started their two-and-a-half-hour drive to Leicester for their next game. It was only early evening, and YFN could already feel herself getting tired.

As they got into the car, Ruby noted that and told her to get some sleep. She had no idea that Ruby could be quiet for long enough and was pleasantly surprised.

Just before she went to sleep, she sent the video recording of Mark’s voice to Catherine who she knew was busy with few royal duties, and then she fell asleep just after she put her phone on charge.

YFN woke to the loud sound of her phone ringing and she jumped, her face feeling half numb from the window. The car was stopped and she looked outside to Ruby who’d noticed her wake and gave her a thumbs up from the fuel bowser. She gave one back and answered the phone without checking the caller ID.

“YFN! Are you okay?!”

She recognised the voice immediately. “Cath- I mean. Joe? Wow, you really did a great job of sounding not yourself before we met.”

Catherine gave a light chuckle. “One of my secret talents. I listened to your video. Did he threaten you?”

“Not physically, just what you heard on the video.”

“He’s absolutely insistent and much more of a pain than I’d expected.” She sounded annoyed and that was amusing to YFN as she was always painted as the perfect Princess. “I’m so sorry. I spoke to Joe and even she is surprised. He will not hurt you. If you feel unsafe at all, I will hire security.”

“That’s okay, I think we’re okay for now. He seems to be all bark at the moment..”

“He is, I assure you. Also, there is no conflict of interest here. I’m aware of your relationship. We are not even covering her games yet and when we do, it is absolutely not a conflict of interest. The man doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I know you, I chose you for a reason and your judgement, and your actions won’t be compromised by your relationship. Not only that, but there’s nothing in which to base these allegations on just yet. I understand the implications that may occur with you interviewing her and potentially being seen as biased, but I’ve seen your work, I’ve seen you interview friends and colleagues without that bias. I chose carefully.” She sighed. “My plan was for us to build your reputation in the field so high it would surpass any of these allegations before they even occurred.”

“I appreciate the support, and I promise that anything to do with Lucy or her team against another team will not be an issue. I want everyone and every team to be represented, regardless of if they’re against her or not.”

“Perfect. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, I think. In the meantime, you don’t need to hide your relationship. I’d never ask or expect that of you.”

“Thank you…also I’m assuming part of your security check on us is that you look for anything controversial which may be used against us like this?”

She hesitated. “Yes. I don’t like it, but we need to protect ourselves and the business from any potential threats…”

“I understand, and I agree.” Ruby hopped back into the car then with a grin. “You have my support…Joe.”

Catherine took the hint. “He won’t find anything controversial on the other employees because there is nothing. We just need to stay a tight knit group and continue our jobs.”

“Copy that, will do. Would you like me to send out a group memo about him?”

Ruby started to drive again.

“Yes, absolutely. If you don’t mind, I’ll write it and you send it?”

“Perfect, that saves me the work.”

“Lastly, the office won’t be ready tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Her interest peaked at that. She could be with Lucy on her day off. Jonatan had been giving her more days off with her knee. She only had to train four days this week, Tuesday to Friday.

“It’s all related. Mark somehow managed to talk to the local council…anyways I’m sorting it. It’ll be ready by Wednesday, I promise you.”

“Okay. That’s perfectly fine. I’ll meet up with the real estate agent and then the original ten of us will settle in and prep for the new group to arrive.”

“I thought it would be best to start the new group on Thursday instead because of the timing with the office date moving, but I wanted to check with you first to make sure you weren’t losing too much preparation time with them for the next round?”

YFN thought about it a little. Their first game was Saturday, and it was the only one. Catherine had gotten permission for ten employees at that game which allowed her to send two original crew with a full new crew to train. “I think Thursday will work. It’ll give us two full days to cover everything which is enough, and for eight of them, they’ll get experience on Saturday at Stamford Bridge. If I feel we need more, I’ll organise Saturday with the others not at the game to prep more.”

“Agreed! We think very much alike, you know.” It was a compliment that made her blush.

Catherine asked if she had any more questions before the call ended. She wasn’t surprised it wasn’t a long conversation, as she knew she’d been busy all day with regular duties and then Mark’s drama in the background. She couldn’t help but think about the possibility of booking a flight to Barcelona to spend the next two days with Lucy, as she knew she had the next day off. She could explore Barcelona with Narla and do a bit of work on the Tuesday while Lucy was training… She bit her lip and shook her head. Jordan needed her. Jordan was her priority. Thinking of, she looked up Jordan’s game which was almost finished. It had been fairly even all game and Jordan had been subbed on in the 65th minute, having a goal attempt in the 66th minute. YFN smiled as she watched Jordan running around, looking frustrated which was so opposite to her everyday self. Aston Villa were up 1-0 and she watched while Ruby listened to the end of the game. Multiple fouls were made by both teams. Aston Villa scored a second goal. A foul by Jordan at the 90 minute mark. And then it was over. Jordan had only played 30 minutes, but she’d made an impact. YFN sent Jordan a message saying how proud she was of her.

They arrived in Leicester around 5:45pm and stopped at a local café for another snack and a drink before the game. Being too early at the stadium meant boredom. They made sure to arrive around 6:15pm and set their equipment up, capturing the players during warm up. The Leicester players exited first to warm up and a few came over to chat. Luck have it, Courtney was one of them. Australians tended to flock together outside of Australia, she realised. YFN asked if she’d do an interview after the game and she agreed for the price of a hoodie. She liked Courtney and could see why Kyra did too. They were both cheeky.

“Hey stranger.”

YFN turned to see Leah’s smile as she stepped next to her. She was alone and not in kit, not quite ready to play after her ACL.

“Leah!” She smiled, pulling her into a hug. She liked Leah, regardless of her issues with Jordan, and she’d previously spoken to Jordan about their little growing friendship. She was okay with it, of course, otherwise YFN wouldn’t have been so forward. “How are you?”

“Oh mate, desperate to get onto that field, I’m telling ya.” She looked longingly at the pitch and then back to YFN. “I watched your interviews. They’re great! I don’t know why anyone hasn’t interviewed like that before.”

“The ones from last week?”

“Yeah and this morning. I loved it, honestly. I’ll be happy to do interviews anytime with you, just let me know.”

“That’s just given me an idea…” She hummed as she thought.

“Taking me up on the offer already?” She laughed.

“Actually I’ve been trying to work out different segments and ideas that would make us stand out from other companies….you’re not playing today. There are always players who are not playing but watching their teams. So it might be a good idea to get players willing to on the sidelines with us to interview and to film some of the snippets we upload with their own perspective and jokes and insight. Sort of like when you’re excitedly screaming motivation at the girls from the bench, but this time they’d be in snippets for our social media. It’ll promote the team and show just how supportive all of the players are with each other. Plus, I think it'd be hilarious.”

“Sort of like when they mic up the cricket players?”

“EXACTLY.”

“Put me in, coach. I love the sound of that. Plus, if it mucks up, you can just blame me.”

“You are 100% my scapegoat if it goes bad.” She laughed. “You’d be willing to today?”

She shrugged. “I have nothing else going on and I’m used to the camera so why not.”

“Perfect! Yeah, oh that’s so exciting-” She stopped and bit her lip as she thought of Jordan.

“What is it?”

“Um…maybe not today? Maybe next game?”

The frustrating thing was that she didn’t know yet if she’d even be at Arsenal’s next game. It depended on the roster.

“YFN, just tell me.”

“So…hm…here’s the thing…”

“Please don’t tell me this is about Jordan?” She asked, a little upset. “I was hoping that wouldn’t affect our relationship…”

“It won’t! Dory’s fine with us being friends. It’s just…”

“Spit it out, mate.”

“She’s going to be here in under an hour.”

She swore Leah paled. She definitely froze. “Oh.”

“Yeah…so she’ll already be with me on the sidelines for company.”

“She just finished a game…” she looked at her watch. “…so if she’s coming here I guess it’s to talk about us?”

“Leah…”

“She told you about this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” She groaned and ran her hand through her hair. “Look, I don’t know your opinion on everything and I don’t want to drag you into it all, but I promise you I just want the best for Jordan.”

“And the best for Jordan is you?”

Leah held her eye contact. “Yes. Just…I know I don’t have the right to ask but I will. Can you please maybe tell Jordan it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to go with me this Friday night to the awards? I want to win her back, to be there for her but I can’t without opportunity to actually be around her.”

“I won’t convince her to do something she doesn’t want to…”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. Just…advocate for me? You don’t have to push it. Just…please?”

“I’ll have a talk to her,” she murmured.

“CHICKEN!”

The Arsenal players were headed out for their warm up and most were headed her way led by the Irishwoman who was being overtaken by a smiley, wavy Kyra.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. Also, I can still do that thing with you, I can be over the other side away from Jordan if she doesn’t want me near.”

“Thanks Leah, I’ll ask her about it when she gets here,” she replied with a smile.

“Ask who about what?!” Kyra asked as she landed on YFN’s back. YFN’s hands immediately caught her legs.

“Oof. You do realise I’m small, right?”

“Yeah, but I knew you’d catch me. When’s Nobbs here?”

A few of the Arsenal girls looked awkward because Leah was there. “It’s okay…” she assured them. “She’ll be here during the first half.”

“Okaaaaay.”

“Oh, also Kyra invited herself tonight.” Caitlin said as she wrestled Kyra off of YFN so she and Katie could give her a hug.

“Tonight? Where was our invite?” Beth asked.

YFN grinned sheepishly. “Our apartment isn’t big enough for the entire Arsenal squad…”

“I’m just joking, this one wants an early sleep anyways,” she said as she nudged Viv who looked unimpressed as usual.

“Aw what a granny!” Kyra teased.

YFN couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Viv’s face. Kyra giggled at her joke, ducking away from Caitlin’s motherly swat to the back of the head when a blue shirt appeared amongst the red and Kyra stilled.

“Hey…”

“Courtney!” YFN replied, making sure she didn’t feel left out. “Hey!”

Courtney looked around, her eyes finding Kyra and then tearing them away pretending she hadn’t looked at her. “Just letting you know Sam and Sophie are both good for the interview after the game. Do you know who it’ll be with?”

“Awesome! Yeah, I was hoping Beth and Frida would be up for it…”

“Me? Yes please! Not sure if I’ll be subbed on though,” Beth said eagerly.

Viv rolled her eyes. “She’ll be subbed on.”

“FRIDA!” Katie yelled.

“FRIDA!!” Beth yelled shortly after. Viv covered her ears and YFN chuckled at that.

The blonde spun around and jogged over. “Yes?”

Frida Maanum was a Norwegian midfielder who’d been with Arsenal since 2021. She was rarely chosen to be interviewed and softly spoken, so YFN thought it’d be great to involve her and help her confidence out with Beth who she could always rely on to talk if she didn’t.

“Want to do an interview with me after the game? YFN wants to know.”

Frida looked over at YFN with a polite hello wave. “It’s going to be with Sam Tierney and Sophie Howard from Leicester. You can absolutely say no if you want.”

“You want me?” She sounded surprised.

“Of course she wants ya, you’re amazin’.” Katie said with a playful grab of her shoulder.

“O…okay. Yeah.” She smiled at YFN which made the Australian feel good for asking.

“Aw, I’ll look after you mate! No need to be nervous!” Beth said loudly, extending an arm around her shoulder.

“So…Beth and Frida,” YFN said to Courtney with a smile. “And then you and Kyra. Is that okay Kyra?”

“Yeah that’s cool.” Kyra said, suddenly quiet.

Courtney’s eyes widened hearing that she’d be interviewed with Kyra. YFN knew it was sneaky of her but it was an opportunity for Courtney to reject the idea before she surprised her with her ex. Not that they were ever public knowledge.

“Okay. I’ll see you after the game.” She said, directed straight at YFN but she knew it was more for Kyra from the tone of it.

Caitlin and YFN shared a sheepish look.

“Come on girls, Jonas is about to kick our asses. Let’s get warmin’ up!” Katie ordered.

“If you see me shouting from the sidelines, it’s because I’m mic’d up!” Leah warned them and received some amused looks in return.

“You’d better not be focusin’ on my ass.” Katie teased.

Caitlin messed up Kyra’s hair. “You’d better be focusing on this one’s debut!”

They all jogged off and Leah turned to YFN.

“Okay boss, where do you want me?”

Jordan and Matt arrived just after 7pm, both with wide grins. Matt because he’d just spent a car ride with Jordan and Jordan because of YFN.

“Dory! Come here!” She took her friend in a hug big enough to lift the footballer off the ground and a few Arsenal fans spotted Jordan and shouted their love for her as she did so.

“I missed you.” She mumbled into Lucy’s hoodie.

“It’s been a day. Needy, hm?”

“I’m always needy.” Jordan grumbled as she put her down.

“I missed you too.” YFN chuckled before turning to Matt. “You look excited, mate.”

He was still grinning ear to ear and nodded.

“I think I tired him out with all the talking, to be fair.”

“I’m glad you two got on for the drive then. Matt, are you okay taking a few of us back to Birmingham tonight? If not, I can ask Ruby…”

“Yes!” He almost shouted and then cleared his throat. “Um, yes, of course. Who..?

“Uh Dory, Katie, Caitlin, Kyra and myself. Oh actually that won’t work… Ruby will have to take some of us anyways… maybe those three and I’ll ask Ruby if she can take Kyra and I.”

“Done.”

“How was the game?”

“Yeah, great. Noel and I got some great footage. A few of the girls were asking about interviews but I said we’d start next week.”

“Next week hopefully… and congrats on Aston Villa’s first win for the season?!”

“Yeah!” Jordan grinned. “I wasn’t on for long but I think I did alright.”

Loud noises from the crowd turned their attention to Leicester running towards goal. The ball was pushed out by Lotte for a corner.

“I’ll go record that.” Matt said as he ran towards the goal up the side of the pitch. Jordan spotted Leah behind the goal then.

“Leah…?”

“You had to have expected her to be here,” YFN teased.

“Well yeah but…is she recording with a phone?”

“I have her mic’d up for some footage. Trying something new out and she’s helping.”

Jordan frowned but her eyes remained on her, mixed emotions in her eyes.

The crowd went wild as Leicester scored from their corner. Jordan swore. The game reset.

“She really wants you to go with her on Friday..”

Jordan’s eyes flicked up to meet hers. “She said that? What else did she say?”

“Nothing you don’t already know… that she wants the best for you, she wants to win you back, and she wants an opportunity to do so.”

Jordan groaned. “I can’t. We rarely went to events together before. Now she wants to show me off to the world like I’m hers when I’m not?”

“I think she just wants a night with you, Jords…”

“Nope. No way. Unless she has another plus one and you come to chaperone us.”

YFN tilted her head. It wasn’t football but… “I could get an invite?”

Jordan spun back around. “You could?”

“My boss can 100% get me a ticket. Now, did you mean it?”

“I mean…” she looked over at Leah. “If you’re going, I will.”

“And is this really what you want?”

Jordan got a little frustrated and pouted, trying to think. She was a bundle of confused emotions and the dreams wouldn’t have helped. YFN put her arm around her and pulled her close.

“What do you think?”

“I think whatever this is, you need to resolve it. The best way to do that is communication. I think you should go. Sooner or later it’s going to be clear to you if you do or don’t want to have her back in your life.”

Leah looked over at the pair, her and Jordan looking at each other. She nodded. “I’ll go.”

“You’re sure?”

“I think I wanted to, I just didn’t want to admit it. Plus, you’ll be there now so it’ll be less awkward.” She grinned up at her.

YFN rolled her eyes and messaged ‘Joe’. Just as she finished the message, Leicester was surging forward, forward, forward, and tucked away their second goal. Two goals in two minutes. A terrible start for Arsenal.

Jordan settled next to YFN, following her and her camera around, watching the game intently. She always wanted the best for Arsenal. They had more of a catch up in between photos that she’d changed to as Matt was now doing the videography. YFN didn’t miss Leah off and on staring across at them just as longingly as she stared at the pitch she missed. Jordan and YFN gradually moved closer to Leah through that first half, though Leah ducked away to the change rooms for half time with her girls.

While it was half time, Ruby, Matt and YFN on worked on their footage while they talked.

“New office tomorrow?!” Matt asked excitedly.

“Oh…no. That’s been delayed until Wednesday. Waiting on approvals. New group are now starting Thursday.”

“You’re not going to Barcelona?” Jordan asked. “Doesn’t Lucy have tomorrow off?”

“You spoke with her?”

“Yeah she messaged me. I assumed you suggested it,” she laughed, “she’s terrible at messaging.”

“Not with me.” YFN winked. “Also that was all her, I promise.”

Jordan rolled her eyes and nudged her almost off her chair. “She misses you.”

“I was there this morning…”

“You miss her too.”

“Dory…” She groaned.

“No.” She said, putting her hand on the camera YFN was playing with which made her look up at her. Ruby and Matt shifted a little nervously as they could do nothing but listen. Jordan looked serious. “Don’t you dare stay here tonight just for me. You barely get any time with her as it is. She’s my friend too, and I like to see her happy. And you happy. And you’re both never as happy as when you’re together.” YFN opened her mouth to argue but Jordan continued. “Let me live vicariously through you. You’ve already done enough, I have Katie and Caitlin and Kyra tonight! They need a bed.”

“You’re kicking me out of our apartment?” YFN laughed.

“Only if you can find a flight.”

She put her camera down and took Jordan into a warm, long hug, mumbling into her. “I love you, Dory. You know that? If we’re both single in five years, I’m going to propose.”

Jordan laughed but they were both emotional. They just wanted the best for each other. “Okay but Blu will be ring-bearer.”

YFN laughed back into her and sat back, wiping tears away that she didn’t even know had formed.

“You’re putting Kyra on the couch?”

“I’ll let her share my bed if she shuts up.”

“She’s only small, she’ll be asleep before you all finish dinner. She tends to tire herself out fast, the little baby.”

“Little baby,” Jordan mimicked adoringly. “Now look for flights. I’ll message Lucy.”

“Or…how about we make it a surprise?”

“I love it! If she thinks you’re robbing her and knocks you out though, that’s not on me.”

She did wonder what Lucy’s reaction would be. She found a flight from Birmingham to Barcelona at 11pm.

“Won’t you need her to unlock the door?”

“I have keys…”

“You two are adorable.”

“I found an 11pm flight from Birmingham…”

“Do you think you’ll make that?!” Ruby asked. “I’m happy to take you…”

“That…sort of works out perfect because then the girls will all fit in Matt’s car. Um…the game finishes at 8:30pm. Interviews until 9pm. Arrive at the airport around 10pm. Cutting it close for international but it’s a late flight and nobody will be there… I think we can make it?” She shrugged and booked the flight anyways. If she didn’t make it, it wasn’t meant to be.

Jordan grinned. “Tell her to thank me when you get there.”

“Honestly, I’m probably going to be passed out from fatigue all day and not even get the chance.”

Her phone buzzed. It was the flight confirmation.

“Are you sure?” She asked Jordan. Sure, she’d already booked the flight, but it was cheap and she didn’t care. She wanted Jordan to be okay.

Jordan grabbed her around the shoulders and smiled. “I promise it’s okay. You’ve really cheered me up today and helped with my Friday night decision. Plus, I have the girls tonight. We both know you’ll just pass out anyways.”

“How dare you…” she laughed as the crowd began cheering loudly as the players re-entered the field. Ruby and Matt got to work. She stood to do the same when her phone buzzed again.

Joe: Done, they sent us through two invitations. Check your emails. Enjoy!

She grinned at the message and then at Jordan.

“What?” She handed her phone over and Jordan took it, an ecstatic look crossing her face. “Yes mate!”

She took her phone back and pocketed it, holding her camera up to take photos of the players as they ran out.

“One condition.”

“Anything.”

She jerked her head towards Leah who was wandering over to the pair. “You tell her.”

Jordan groaned. “Okay but at the end of the night. She can sweat until then.”

YFN chuckled at that.

Starting the second half 2-0 against them meant Arsenal had to push deep. And they did. Arsenal kicked six goals in the second half. Their first came at a hesitation from Courtney which YFN felt terrible for. She was next to Leah when that happened who filmed a mic’d up scream of joy from behind the Leicester goal as the shot went in. Slowly Jordan gravitated towards Leah more during the match, Leah managing to let her come at her own pace. The rest of the match was an absolute riot. Caitlin with an assist and a goal, Katie with an assist, and Kyra with multiple attempts at goal. She was shocked when she saw Courtney take Kyra down in the 83rd minute and wondered just how much of the history between them she didn’t know. The game ended 2-6 Arsenal. A complete second half dominance that had Leah screaming with joy on the sidelines. It turned out to be the perfect day to test the mic’d up segment, as she posted the live updates with video’s Leah had taken of her yelling at the girls running towards goal and screaming, turning the camera around on herself to show her celebrating. It was great content.

Regardless of the outcome, the Leicester players still came over for their interviews. First she had Sam, Sophie, Frida and Beth who actually did get some game time and almost a first goal since she’d come back from her ACL tear. Beth was the loudest, of course, and helped Frida to open up a bit. Frida had some back and forth with the Leicester girls talking about some of the plays including Sam’s goal. Overall, she was happy with the results of the interview, and how much the girls had come out of their shells.

Next was her interview with Courtney and Kyra who seemed equally nervous next to each other. They knew each other well though. YFN waited to sense the overall mood before she allowed herself to go in with some cheeky questions about Courtney’s tackle on Kyra, and Kyra’s debut. Her goal was to get them to start teasing each other, and it worked. At first, they didn’t want to address each other, and after a few comments here and there, it was more them talking and throwing cheeky comments to each other, and YFN could almost sit back and enjoy watching the show. She had to steer it a few times of course, both were young, but the tension between the two was obvious. For the sake of the viewers and their privacy, YFN made sure to make it known to the camera that they were teammates and brought up that they went to school together as justification which started a whole other line of questioning about their start in football.

Only when she was satisfied that she’d helped them break whatever awkwardness they’d previously had, did she end the interview, but not before she told Kyra how proud she was of her on camera for her debut. Courtney gave her a proud shove for that too.

Being Australians, and women, they all hugged their goodbyes, Kyra whispering a thanks into her ear. As they were packing up, she could see them still chatting as Courtney was being called away. She gave Kyra her phone and she typed into it what YFN assumed was her number. Courtney gave an awkward wave, obviously not knowing whether a hug was appropriate, and ran into the change rooms. Kyra turned to YFN with a grin and a little fist pump. It was adorable.

She looked past Kyra to where Leah and Jordan were standing, Jordan telling her she’d go on Friday. Leah’s expression flashed excitement before she contained it, and then it went a little shy as she pretended to be calm about it. They didn’t speak for long, just enough for Jordan to agree before she wandered off with Leah’s eyes following her longingly. She watched for a while until she met YFN’s eye and blushed, having been caught. She mouthed a ‘thank you’ to which she gave a smile in return.

“We really need to go.” Ruby stressed. She looked at the time and groaned. She only had time for quick goodbyes with everyone and a threat to Katie and Caitlin to not have sex in her bed. Katie seemed to enjoy the idea of the threat, to be honest, and that terrified her.

She rushed through security as quickly as possible and was the last person to board the flight, sweating and grateful she’d made it, though cursing herself for having to stay longer just to make sure Kyra and Courtney were good. As with her morning flight, she passed out immediately and wished she had a chance for a shower before seeing Lucy. Instead of a shower, she tidied herself up in the bathroom at the Barcelona airport when she touched down, changing her clothes and washing away the day. She brushed her teeth and did her nightly makeup routine, ignoring some funny looks. She sure as hell wasn’t going to let her skin suffer more than it already was with the change in weather between the UK and Spain.

Her Uber dropped her off at just before 3am and for some reason she was nervous, jiggling the keys Lucy had given her in her hands and playing with the little flags. At the front door she took a deep breath in and unlocked the door, entering as quietly as possible so as to not wake Lucy or Narla. She kicked off her shoes and left her suitcase in the entrance, not wanting to risk the wheels waking them. The smell as she walked into the house was home. Vanilla and bitter orange, and whatever the hell Lucy had been cooking for dinner. She swore she could even smell the big breakfast they’d had that morning. She looked at the trophy Lucy still had out and smiled, putting her phone on charge next to it before tip-toeing her way into the bedroom.

Lucy was quite literally dead asleep. She was on her back facing YFN’s side of the bed, one hand touching the pillow YFN had been sleeping on the night before. She was beautiful. She loved seeing her so vulnerable and herself. Her dark hair was spread out over the pillow, another thing she loved. Lucy with her hair down. She clicked the door closed quietly and snuck around to her side of the bed, avoiding Lucy’s collection of shoes around the bed. She carefully laid down and when she touched Lucy’s hand to move it, she jerked awake, her head rising and her eyes opening.

“It’s just me.” She whispered and put a hand to her cheek, coming closer so Lucy could see her better without her glasses.

“What? What?” She was dazed and confused, her body tense.

“Shhh. Shhhh.” She comforted and cuddled up to her, her head finding Lucy’s collarbone. “It’s okay, it’s just me. I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“Little one?” She asked, unbelieving. “You…you’re here.”

Her arms wrapped around YFN tighter than they ever had before, holding her close to her body, her own body softening into her. “Is everything okay?!”

“Everything’s fine, Luce. I have the next two days off. I’m all yours.”

Lucy groaned happily and kissed her wherever she could reach.

“Sleep now, Luce.”

“You’re home,” she whispered huskily with emotion, her voice already fading.

“I’m home.”

147 notes · View notes

margowritesthings · 11 months

Text

ROMEO AND JULIET: II

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧.

series masterpost part I

pairing: low honour!Arthur Morgan x O'Driscoll!reader (f) word count: 5107 words warnings: 18+ minors dni, sexually explicit, low honour Arthur, rough sex, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), blood play, knife play, gun play, touch of cnc, dirty talk, degradation, enemies while lovers, violence, murder, choking, low honour Arthur being sexy af (yes it needs its own warning) authors note: okay, it's been a whiiiile for these two crazies, but part 2 is finally here!! i gave this one my all, i hope y'all enjoy <3 i have a plan for this series that's mostly built on requests ive received, so if y'all have any suggestions please feel free to drop them in my asks!!<3 as always thank you to my darling Bea for being my cheerleader throughout getting back to writing. couldn't do it without ya <3beta read by @cowboydisaster

taglist: @cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries @delilah-grimes @mrsarthurmorgan7 @twola

Thanks to Arthur, and your own terrible decisions, it is far from the easiest ride back to camp, your bare, sticky skin uncomfortably grinding against your saddle with each movement your steed makes. Also thanks to Arthur, ironically, it isn’t the roughest ride you’ve ever had. You’d actually be hard pressed to find a harder ride than the one you experienced just minutes ago. It infuriates you, how unbelievably satisfied you feel despite everything. It’s bone deep and unlike anything you’ve felt with any of the other men you’ve been with. It even dopes your mind up enough to allow you to reach the bridge out of Saint Denis before the real regret sets in like a gypsies fuckin’ curse.

You urge Tybalt, your snow white Arabian, faster, almost frantically squeezing your calves and verbally ordering his gallop. The saddle burn is searing, but it’s not nearly as bad as the ice water that feels as though it’s being dumped over your head when you realise what you’ve done.

Arthur Morgan.

Arthur Fucking Morgan.

Fucking Arthur Fucking Morgan.

You don’t even really remember how it happened. It’s a complete blur of pleasure and pain and the smell of Arthur’s smoky breath and the feel of his calloused hands against your softest, most sensual parts. One minute, you’re gathering information, planning just how you’re going to loot the bastard, the next you’re bleeding for him, burning for him as he takes you under the orange glow of the streetlights.

The wind whips at your cheeks painfully, the skin of your thighs ripping against the hard leather of the saddle. The faster you ride, the more it hurts, but you’re grateful for it. It's the perfect punishment for what you’ve done, a painful distraction from the thoughts plaguing your mind of you fucking someone who considers your father’s killer a father to him. To add insult to all the injury, you have to go back to camp empty handed. You didn’t even think about the job Morgan is probably off finishing right now after finishing you, which is probably exactly what he wanted.

“God fucking dammit!” you scream out into the swamps of Lemoyne, scattering a few birds from the trees into the inky night sky.

Tybalt carries you home, but in your current state you simply cannot face your family and the other gang members. It's 4am before all the lanterns are distinguished and you can finally hitch up and bring yourself to enter camp, tying Arthur’s jacket tighter around your waist and walking as quietly as you can back to your tent. You don’t sleep, despite longing for nothing but your cot the whole time you were waiting.

Your jeans burn faster than expected.

If only you could burn the rest of the night to ashes just as quickly.

═══════☆═══════

It’s been three weeks since you’ve seen Arthur Morgan. Actually seen Arthur Morgan, that is. Three weeks of good old Uncle Colm handing you the shittiest jobs as punishment for your failings. Three weeks of trying so damn hard not to bring yourself back to that night every time you’re alone in your tent, but finding it near impossible. It takes 9 days for the bruises on your thighs to fade and 14 for the cuts on your neck, though the constant reminder of your sins lies just on your inner thigh, where Arthur’s knife ripped your skin as you came undone in his arms. The scar shines in the candlelight, only seen in the dead of night when you’re alone, shamefully tracing the same lines Arthur did with your fingers over and over, chasing that rush you know deep down you won’t find without him. He haunts you, and yet you’re infuriated each and every time his cocky goddamn smirk somehow shows up in your deepest fantasies.

It’s not your fault. You can’t even get yourself off without brushing against the mark he left on you. Hell, he may as well have branded his name into your leg. Bastard.

These are the grievances you grumble to yourself near nightly, the battle you fight with your subconscious even now, as the lock to the gunsmith’s clicks open in your nimble hands. The old door screams out the tale of years without oil for its hinges when you push it open, stepping inside into the dark, empty room. You’re far too focused on everything you shouldn’t be focused on right now to check over your shoulder before slipping inside, but in your years as an outlaw that mistake is yet to cause an issue.

The moonlight streams through the windows, the panes casting shadows of crosses on the shelves and the weapons adorning them. Your tired eyes scan your surroundings, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lip at the sight of those beautiful weapons, all yours for the taking.

The owner of the store almost certainly lives upstairs, so when the weight of your boots on the wooden floorboards makes them creak underneath you, you wince. Yes, you’re more than prepared for any disturbances, but you’d rather not have to deal with the hassle of shooting some guy in the face. A quick job, in and out, and you can get back to camp victorious and not think about Arthur Morgan.

You start with the ammo, loading the leather bag up with all the little boxes. The shells and bullets make such beautiful music to your ears as they clatter around their cardboard boxes, a song of abundance and a successful loot that you could listen to all night. When all the side pockets are full, you turn on your heel, spurs scraping against the wood as you begin to survey the shelves upon shelves of weapons. They appear to be organised well, the rifles in one corner, repeaters next to them, there’s an entire wall of pistols, some glinting in the moonlight that breaks through the dusty window, with all the other types delegated to an area of the shop each. It’s a beautiful sight for an outlaw, especially when you see the cabinet of knives and start to imagine all the different places you could shove them into Arthur’s ridiculously muscular body…

You’re getting off topic.

The floorboards groan under your weight again the moment you start pacing the shop to grab at least two of each kind of gun. For each that goes in the bag for camp, you grab another, ever so slightly better one for yourself. You’ll carry them out separately and tie them up to Tybalt once you’re out of this place. That’s the plan, at least.

It takes you the longest to pick out the knives, each one possessing a captivating reason to be your favourite. The carvings on all of the different handles are stunning, each blade almost glowing right to their pointed tips. Guns are great, but you’ve always been fond of the art form of blades. You reach for one, an ornate dagger that seems to shine brighter than the others, its handle carved into a beautiful, twisted scene. There’s a woman in the middle, flames wrapping around her legs and waist as the Grim Reaper holds her from behind. The detail is incredible, each bony finger of Death himself gripping into the woman’s hip. It almost takes your breath away, but something beats it to it. Someone beats it to it.

“Aw, shucks, I caught another stray!” Arthur exclaims, all sarcasm and bravado as your gasp gets stuck in your throat. How the hell did he sneak up on you? You can’t even breathe without the wooden floorboards threatening loudly to collapse in on you.

You set your jaw, grinding your molars and letting out a long sigh through your nose. You don’t turn around to face him, not wanting to look at him for fear everything will come racing back again.

“Fuck off, Morgan. This job’s mine. You’re too late.”

He takes two long strides forward until he’s right behind you, which you only know thanks to the buzzing of energy tickling your back. How you can feel him without actually touching him, you may never know. But you do, and it clouds your mind something awful.

“Now now, little stray. Don’t we share jobs? I seem to recall you tryna’ claim some of my takin’s a few weeks back.”

Your grip on the ornate handle of the knife gets tight enough to turn your knuckles white, but you still refuse to face him, telling yourself it’s so you don’t have to look at his stupid face and absolutely no other reason.

“And if you’ll recall, I took nothin’ from you.”

“Not for lack’a tryin’, princess. I think we both remember just what I had to do to you to stop ya’...” he taunts, low and gravelly. It vibrates against your back.

Even with your back to him, you can picture so clearly exactly what shit eating smirk he wears right now, as Arthur reaches up to the nape of your neck, running his knuckles so softly down each vertebrae of your spine, melting your very bones. For some reason, you allow yourself a moment- just a moment- to indulge in it, to let that tingling feeling spread like ripples in a pond crafted by his hand, before the immense effort you have to put in to not moan audibly slams you back into reality. You spin to face Arthur, braid whipping the air around you from the speed of it as your new weapon is pushed against Arthur’s throat, the tip threatening to slice open his jugular.

“Now you listen here, Morgan, and you listen good. That night never happened. You had a knife to my goddamn throat, you took whatever you damn well wanted from me and I’ll be damned if you take one more single fucking thing. Now get out of my fucking sight and let me do my job.”

Despite your white hot rage, despite the sharp metal nearly being forced through his windpipe, Arthur is still smirking, and by god if that doesn’t throw more fuel onto your burning fury. He scoffs a laugh out, swallowing hard enough for his Adam's apple to push back into the blade, making a point that he isn’t in the slightest bit scared of you. When he leans in, your arm follows, your resolve to slice his throat open dissipates into the thick air. Arthur reaches up, wrapping thick fingers around your wrist to pull it down away from him. For some reason, a reason you’ll spend an eternity searching for, you let him, you chest rising and falling as you attempt to merely exist without the growing tension cutting you apart limb by limb. His breath tickles your nose, and his lips are so close to yours you’re sure he’s going to kiss you, but he stops no more than half an inch away from you.

“You know I took nothin’ from you that you didn’t freely give me, little stray.”

The insinuation shatters that lie you keep telling yourself, the version of events where Arthur forced himself upon you and none of this is your fault. You know he’s right, but admitting that to yourself would break you, does break you. But you can’t break in front of him, can’t allow the slightest crack for him to prise open and reveal your true self. You hate him so much, that much is the truth, but there’s so much hiding behind that veracity that you can never allow to see the light of day nor the glow of the moon.

You grit your teeth, jaw painfully twitching from the strain of working the muscle so hard since Arthur’s presence has begun to drown you. The fire in your eyes burns threateningly, but it’s taking more and more to keep it aflame the closer Arthur’s wandering hand gets to cupping your cheek. Without breaking the stare tethering you together, you reach up with cat-like reflexes to grip his wrist, stopping him just before contact is made.

“Get out, or I’ll scream and everyone will know you’re here.”

You’re at an impasse yet again, Arthur clutching your wrist with a near bruising force, you gripping his with his hand suspended in the air. It’s silent, save for the deafening buzzing of electricity cracking between you. Arthur chuckles, the sound coming from deep in his chest and reaching the depths of you.

“You think that’s a threat, woman? Scream in fear of me, scream for me while I take that pretty little cunt of yours again, it don’t matter. Ain’t nobody gonna come runnin’ to save you.”

He lets go first, because he knows your threats are empty. He knows you’re clenching down tight on your molars because it’s the only sensation distracting you from the heat pooling between your legs and he knows you want him just as much now as you did that night in the alleyway. Arthur Morgan always gets his way, it would seem. And you’re no different.

You don’t expect him to release you, so the silence between you fragments and slices you when you drop your blade to the ground with a loud clatter. Anybody upstairs definitely would have heard that, and you’re infuriated that Arthur is ruining the first decent job you’ve been given in weeks, as much as your anger is overshadowed by… other sensations.

“We’re… we’re trespassing. They’ll call the law, ain’t you a wanted man, Morgan?” There’s no integrity to your words, no more fire, only an apprehension that you pray to god he can’t detect.

He sneers, “And you’re here to what? Clean this bastard’s floors? C’mon, O’Driscoll…” At that, Arthur kneels down, picking up your discarded weapon. He drags the blade lightly up your inner thigh, making it all that much harder to suppress the little moan building from the sensation. He spins the dagger so that the blade is in his hand, offering it back to you. You look down at him while you take it, enjoying the sight of the notorious Arthur Morgan kneeling before you like this more than you could ever admit to yourself. “You know we’re just as wanted as each other.”

His words strike a chord. A lonely chord, in a lonely song of two lonely souls who can never let anybody else in. In your line of work, closeness is danger, it’s risk and it’s not worth it. Nobody outside could ever understand… except him. You know the stories of the Van der Linde gang, of Arthur and his son and suddenly it all makes sense, why he’s chasing you like a hungry cat after a mouse. It’s the same reason you didn’t stop him the first time, the same reason you haven’t screamed like you’d threatened to, the same reason why you’re going to let him do this all over again. That closeness… you need it, even if it is with a man you can’t bring yourself to stand. You’re just as wanted as each other… just not by anybody who matters.

He watches in real-time as you realise all this, as you figure out that the man you hate most in the world is the only one you could possibly let in. It’s maddening, infuriating, and now you need a distraction. And you’re going to take it.

You meet each other's eye, spotting the challenge hanging between you to see who will be the first to break. You feel the tension infiltrating your body, stealing the breath from your lungs and setting your skin aflame and you know the only way to stop it isn’t through extinguishing the flames but fuelling them. You need to burn with Arthur until there’s nothing left but ash and soot.

You spark, while your oxygen gets ever closer. Arthur takes a few slow steps forward, and it’s only when his smoky breath infiltrates your senses do you realise that despite everything, you have never kissed him. He backs you up against the display case until there is nowhere for you to escape, your lips so close you can nearly taste the whiskey on him. Your heart hitches in your throat, convinced he’s about to break the barrier you didn’t cross before.

Arthur doesn’t kiss you, instead growling deep in his chest as he sniffs, trailing his nose from your collarbone to your jaw. You shudder, your shirt suddenly feeling much too tight on your form.

“W-What are you-”

“Exactly what you want me to, little stray.” He whispers, “Or should I-”

“No. D-Don’t stop, I-”

He doesn’t let you finish your request, knowing exactly what it is before the words can leave your lips and you’re grateful, it means you can hold full deniability after the storm just like you did last time. Arthur grasps your collar in each hand, tearing your shirt apart and scattering your buttons across the floorboards. Your nipples feel the cool night air only for a moment before one is taken in Arthur’s mouth, the other pinched between his calloused fingers. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and you feel the heat and moisture pool in your underwear at the very thought of what's to come. You need more. Now.

Your nails dig into Arthur’s shoulders, pushing him to his knees before you with a force enough to bruise him. It is an addicting view, Arthur kneeling for you, and it’s not one you’re about to pass up again. His hands are quickly on your belt, unbuckling it to access your buttons and zipper to slide your jeans and panties down your legs. Clothes discarded, he grips into your thighs and spreads them, diving into your heat like it’s a source of oxygen. There’s no teasing, no featherlight touches nor gentle licks… no, he takes your clit in between his teeth, the sharpness shooting everywhere as he begins to suck. It catapults you. To where, you have no idea, but it’s incredible, otherworldly, and enough to make you instantly forget where you are. You mewl, tugging at Arthur’s locks as he begins to lap your juices up like a man starved. Say what you will about Arthur Morgan- and you do, often- but by god does he know exactly how to make you feel good.

You’ve never had a man take you like this, with you standing above him while he bows to you, and it takes near everything you have to not let your legs buckle beneath you. Somehow, you know Arthur would catch you, but you’d rather not find that out right now.

“Fuck…” you breathe out amongst moans and whimpers, hips bucking against Arthur’s face. His stubble burns against your thigh beautifully, each and every sensation of the moment working harmoniously to send you to dizzying levels of pleasure. You ride Arthur’s face, bare feet pointed on your tiptoes to allow him better access as you climb closer to nirvana. Your nails scratch hard against his scalp, wordlessly letting him know just how close you are, silently demanding he doesn’t dare stop. Arthur sucks hard on your sensitive little bundle of nerves, his teeth catching it every so often in the sweetest pain you’ve felt in… well, about 3 weeks. It hurtles you over the precipice you’ve been dangled over, and you have to bite down on your lip so hard you draw blood. A coppery taste blooms over your tongue, your only sign that you’re still human despite the unearthly, ethereal sensations burning every inch of your body inside and out.

When you reach what you assume to be the peak, the very edge of what you’re sure a human body can handle, the strength of your bite becomes no match for the need to moan out. It echoes around the room, a positively obscene sound that you can’t even really hear over the rushing of your own blood in your ears.

“Quiet, goddammit.” Arthur grumbles, all but slapping his palm against your open, quivering mouth. Just as you think you’re about to come down from this immeasurable high, you feel two of Arthur’s thick fingers run over the part of your soaked slit that isn’t consumed in between his teeth. It’s the only warning you get before he plunges them deep inside you, curling to find that swollen spot he seems to have a map to. No barrier on this Earth or otherwise could stop the scream derived from pure ecstasy escaping your lips. The combination of the delicious suction Arthur has on your clit and the curved pumping of his fingers is a completely new level of euphoria. You feel so full before Arthur’s cock has even broken free from its denim confides and you’re not sure how much more of this relentless orgasm you can take without collapsing into him.

You reach a crest higher than you thought possible, crashing back down into this realm as if your body is nothing but seafoam. Your chest swells with each laboured breath you’re finally allowed to take once Arthur removes his hand from your mouth, though you still can’t really see straight. Your mind is fuzzy, still trying to wrap itself around the concept that anyone could make you feel that good, so Arthur already has his zipper undone and is reaching to pull his cock out before you’ve even registered that he has stood.

After three weeks of Arthur only existing in your mind, you’d convinced yourself that your memory couldn’t possibly be accurate, that over a few lustful nights alone in the dark you’ve managed to exaggerate… but no. Arthur is, as much as you loathe to admit it, magnificent. Just as thick as you remember, with veins that wrap around his shaft like ivy throbbing with pure need. He’s almost too big, your overstimulated cunt seems to think, widening your eyes in awe to watch when Arthur begins to palm his leaking cock.

“I-I don’t think I can-“

“Oh yeah you fuckin’ can,” He grits, giving you no time to catch up with your own racing heart as he grips your thighs, lifting you up to perch on the glass counter of weapons and spreading you wide. Arthur surges up, spearing into you. He wastes no time, he needs not warm you up; after such a blinding orgasm, you’re already soaking for him. He feels your arousal, mixed with his own residual spit, coating his cock as he slides in up to the hilt. He groans viscerally, leaning right into the crook of your neck so his breath burns your skin. He takes your flesh between his teeth in a sharp, pinching bite and you yelp between mewls. Tears form in the corners of your eyes from the pure stretch and invasion of Arthur filling you so wholly, but you’re too far gone into this cloud of sensation to care if they fall.

“See how much you need me, little stray… how much you fuckin’ need this cock, huh? Actin’ like you hate the big bad wolf, but I feel how your cunt weeps for me, how it wraps around me while I fuck you senseless.”

Your inner thigh is left with a burning red handprint when Arthur releases it to reach and rub hard circles on your clit. It makes it so hard to meet his eye without your own rolling to the back of your head in bliss, makes it near impossible to argue back when you can already feel another orgasm approaching, but your stubbornness persists enough to let you try and struggle out an argument.

“I can enjoy your cock and still hate you, wolfie.”

Your less than affectionate nickname earns you a harsh slap against your clit, the pain bouncing through your every inch in the sweetest pain you could imagine. You cry out again, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth as Arthur continues to relentlessly pound into you. You’re sure you won’t be able to walk tomorrow, or ride for at least a week, but it’s a small price to pay for something so fucking good.

Neither of you are holding back, moaning into eachothers mouths, inhaling eachothers breaths, growling for each other and just barely avoiding your lips touching. You don’t hear the ceiling creak, nor the stairs groan under the weight of the gunsmith on his way to see who or what is making such grotesque noises in his humble little shop. All there is in this moment is you, Arthur, and his glorious cock fucking you insensible. Your ass burns from the friction of rubbing up against the glass display case, even more so when Arthur releases your other thigh to reach for something at his hip and the case is left to hold your entire weight. You see nothing but your big bad wolf, grunting and growling deep as you climb ever higher with him.

“What in the-”

BANG

A gasp is ripped from your throat with the gunshot ringing in your ears. Your heart couldn’t pound any harder without breaking free of your ribcage, but a swift look to your left shows that you’re in no danger at all. Arthur’s arm is outstretched, smoking pistol pointed to the air above the now dead gunsmith. He doesn’t even look away from your face, contorted in such bliss as he continues to dangle you over the edge. He killed a man while buried so deep inside you, his victim’s blood now splattered across both your faces like crimson freckles.

There’s no time to mourn, or even acknowledge, as grasps your jaw hard between his thumb and forefinger and forces your eyes back to him. The blood sprayed on his features suits him, you think, but that makes sense for the big bad wolf. The way he takes a life with such ease… it terrifies and enthrals you all the same. Your pussy squeezes around his shaft involuntarily at the thought of watching him kill again and again just to fuck you just that bit longer, at the idea that those measly mortal lives pale in comparison for his need to be inside you.

“Oh, fuck, Arthur I’m gonna-”

You’re cut off by a sharp slap to your cheek, and it burns so beautifully. The blood on Arthur’s hands smears across your skin, tainting you, body and soul. His hand quickly returns to its bruising grip on your cheeks, and you feel the heat of the pistol in his other hand pressing into your stomach. His finger isn’t near the trigger, and somehow you don’t think he would hurt you with it, but you suddenly realise the danger you could be in right now. You and Arthur hold a long-standing feud, your respective gangs have been fighting for even longer than that. The outlaw just executed a man ruthlessly for simply being in the wrong place, his own property, at the wrong time, and now he holds your life in his hands, literally. There is nothing stopping him from widening those jaws and consuming his little stray right here and now…

And what a way to go it would be.

You can’t bring yourself to care, can’t let the fear serve any other purpose than to pump the adrenaline around your veins and carry you back to the climax you’re searching for.

“Gonna cum, little stray? Come apart for me all over again? Hate me all you want, you n’ I know what you do for me when we’re all alone. Cum, little stray. Now.”

And you do. You come apart not with a fizzle but a bang. A blinding, screaming bang, where your limbs tighten around Arthur and your skin fizzles at any contact. He never stops his thrusts, each one seeming to renew the sensations spreading around your whole body like waves lapping and crashing against you. The gun presses into your flesh, serving as a reminder of the danger Arthur is capable of inflicting, yet it only heightens everything. You moan into his ear, your tongue running across his lobe not by design but because you have completely lost control of yourself. In this moment, you’re Arthur’s. And you feel too fucking good to even worry about it.

The fear that he could snap your neck with so little effort, or pull the trigger of his gun and blast you to bits, lingers, spurring on your frantic movements while you grind needily against his own thrusts. Part of you wishes he would, so the both of you could find some twisted hellish realm where this union makes sense and you can rule it, together. The big bad wolf and his little stray. It’s an alarming thought to have, but who could blame you? If the devil himself could make you feel this good you’d bow to him too, weapons or none.

Arthur’s movements become sloppier, less controlled, and his grip on your cheeks tightens. He’s close, while you’re still riding your high. There’s a sharp aching where the gun presses hard into your ribcage, giving your future self the perfect excuse as to why you didn’t make Arthur pull out. He curses loudly, though it comes out more a growl, before biting hard into your neck. He surely draws blood with the force of his teeth against your skin, but it’s difficult to find it in you to care. He’s pounding you so hard into the glass you’re worried it’ll smash beneath you, but being shredded by broken glass seems an easy punishment for the sins you’ve committed again with this man.

You both come down together, glistening with blood and sweat and tears. Arthur remains in the crook of your neck, exhaling hot breaths over your skin. There’s a few seconds of a silence only broken with exasperated gasps, and then a wince when Arthur slides out of your drenched cunt. Now you can actually think straight, your hand shoots to your swollen lips at the sight of the deceased gunsmith beside you. Arthur is covered in blood, and you’re no better, but by God does it suit him.

Having not gotten fully undressed, save for resting his jeans below his hips, Arthur takes no time at all to right himself, holstering his gun and pulling his jacket over the bloodstained shirt. He looks over to you, the harsh shadows cast by the moon only exaggerating his smirk. It takes everything you have not to flinch when he reaches for you, though the panic quells when he runs his thumb gently over your jaw, leaving a scarlet trail in his wake.

“See you on the next job, little stray.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic #low honour arthur morgan #low honor arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption #romeo and juliet

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gaywattpadstorykid · 2 months

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Rainy Days

TW:signs of depression, blood(described), wounds and later chapters WILL discuss suicide and self harm. If you are triggered by these themes do not read this. I will make happier stories

I do not relate to this, and this might not be accurate. My grammar and writing abilities aren’t good, please correct me or give me constructive criticism ❤️ also, this story was PERFECTED!!! With AI, I wrote it myself, everything, but because I’m German and my whole family doesn’t know much English, this is one of my only options. I have the original where I wrote it into my notebook and made notes for myself and I still have it in it’s earlier stages (I already wrote much more when I was younger, my grammar was pretty bad tho) if anyone wants proof (the notebook) I’ll release it on @toulouseradiosilence <3

enjoy!

Chapter 1: Rose

I wake up to the sound of rain pouring onto the roof. The first thing I do after lying on my side for another 5 minutes is to look at the alarm clock. The time it’s displaying is barely visible, yesterday’s meal is standing in front of it. Would you call that dinner or breakfast? It was at about 4AM, so I’m not really sure, but it also does not matter, so I shove the leftover ramenbox and cheap diet lemonade off of the bedside table. The bottle shatters on the floor, startling me. Besides the cars, rain and airplanes outside this is the first noise I’ve heard today, and probably one of the ones I will hear. I finally look at the time. 10:30 AM. I’m not late to anything, I haven’t been late to anything in months.. or years. Because there is nothing to be late to. Nobody needs me, I’m not part of this “system”. And I think that’s not as bad someone would expect. I don’t have any responsibilities whatsoever. I don’t have to take part in this society, I can do whatever I want. And I choose to lay in my bed, draw or sleep. I have food in my storage (ramen, diet lemonade/ water). Sometimes I crave foods I used to eat when I was younger, but it’s certainly not worth going to the store for. Some days I eat a lot, some I don’t eat at all. Most days, actually. Some days I don’t get out of bed and some I don’t even wake up. Others I don’t sleep. Sometimes I look at drawings or other posts on tumblr. That’s all I really do. Sometimes I think about signing up and posting my drawings, but I’m not good with social stuff and this is too social for me in many ways, so I don’t. I have to go to the toilet, which is pretty unusual for me, considering i barely drink anything. I don’t want to get up though, so I continue lying in my bed for another 20 minutes, until I feel too uncomfortable. I sit up and put my feet onto the ground. Something sharps cuts into one of them. I don’t do anything; I don’t even look down to see what just hurt my foot. Another minute of just sitting there and staring goes by until I decide to check. A piece of a broken diet lemonade bottle. I stand up and shove the trash under my bed, I didn’t remove the shard. I start walking. The cut stings. I really do not care though. Dragging myself into the bathroom, I push the door open and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, but I quickly look away. I sit down onto the toilet and.. pee.. yeah, I pee. Afterwards I continue sitting on the toilet and my eyes trail along the way I was walking on, from the toilet to to the door. The door is open. I live alone. There’s a trail of blood on the floor. What? Oh. It’s my blood. Wait, yeah, of course it is. Who else’s would it be? I put my leg into the other to look at my foot. The shard is still in there. I actually kind of panic because it looks really, really bad. Almost my whole foot is cut open. And THAT is a reason to stay in bed all day (as if I wouldn’t do that anyway.. but now I have an excuse, I guess.) I limp over to my bed, but before laying down I check whether I still have some water. Luckily, I do. So I let myself fall onto the bed back first, take a chug of water and start to sleep.

Next chapter will probably release next week❤️

#writblr #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing #writing stuff #writerscommunity #writeblr #writer stuff #creative writing

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silentglassbreak · 3 months

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Anonymous

Noah Sebastian x OFC

Here's the 3rd part. Hoping to also get this one up quick. This story is really coming together in my head. Also, I know I promised smut, and so far have not delivered. That is coming, pinkly promise. We've got to get the foundation man!

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, overall abuse, mild violence (ie. bar fights), smut, swearing, and altogether just a lot of fuckery.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Part 3 - The Grey

Sleep was a wild idea, given everything I had learned last night. I couldn't seem to quit scrolling through Google, YouTube, listening. I felt as though I was educating myself. Learning, in some way, what I was getting into. I wanted to see what I could learn about him, but he was an overall private human, even for a musician.

I did learn he is a Scorpio, born on Halloween. Originally from Virginia. The names of his bandmates. He had quite a few wonderful songs that I had added to my iTunes quickly after hearing them. So far, my favorite was Limits, which was saying a lot, given Just Pretend was still so incredible.

Throughout all of my 'research', the most important fact I learned was that Noah was very good at hiding his alcoholism. I expected to see articles, tweets, or even a TikTok about some scandal. An arrest? A fight? A drunken performance? I found nothing.

I suspect Noah is what I consider a silent drunk. Someone who doesn't drink for fun, but for release. For something to escape to. This had to be true, because I found zero evidence of his addiction on social media or in the depths of Google. I even shamelessly searched 'Noah Sebastian alcoholic' and came up with some very strange fanfiction. Interesting thought...

This almost worried me more. This meant I was going into this blind. The rockstar lifestyle was something not only musicians lived. So how did he manage to do it so quietly? Was his publicist just that good? Did he even have one?

Despite my determination, sleep finally took hold about 4AM, me waking up at noon with the videos of their music still playing on YouTube. I slammed my laptop closed and wiped the drool from my lips.

I needed caffeine.

I slipped into my house slippers, and sauntered to the kitchen, Angel following behind. I heard his quiet whine, and quickly paced to the back door to let him out before he had an accident.

Once I had slurped down half of my energy drink and let Angel back in, I snatched my phone from my bedside table. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I checked through my notifications.

Given it was my day off, I wasn't surprised to see a text from Sam asking if I wanted to come in and help him with his case files. I didn't even open it. That should answer that question.

I opened my messages to reach out to Laura. Her and I needed to speak immediately.

Before I could open her thread, I noticed a message from Noah, which made my throat dry.

Noah: Hollywood Palladium. Doors open at 6PM, but you should get there about 5 to get into your suite. I'll text you once I get offstage and we can figure out how you'll smuggle me out. We go on before Motionless in White.

Noah: Thank you again, Leena. I know this is a pain for you.

This guy isn't actually real. He is sweet as honey. Smooth as butter. And wakes up at 6:30AM, apparently? Who the fuck is this guy?

Me: I'll be there. I haven't told Laura yet. Pray for me.

His response came quickly.

Noah: Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name...

I only responded with laughing emojis and flipped to Laura's thread.

Me: Can you talk?

This was our code. She was working and if she was busy, she would respond. If she wasn't, she'd call.

My phone vibrated in my hand immediately.

"Hey." My voice was a fucking mess. I realized I hadn't used it at all yet.

"What the fuck is up, Kyle? You getting sick?" I cleared my throat and sighed.

"No. Just woke up."

"Late night? You doing okay?" I could hear the concern. 3 years sober, didn't mean it wasn't still something to keep an eye on.

"Yeah babe, I'm good. I need to fucking talk to you, though."

"Sure, what's going on?"

I sighed, not even knowing how to begin. I couldn't exactly tell her the lead singer of one of her favorite bands was a newly recovering alcoholic. Not without permission.

"I uh..." My brain drew a blank. "have not thought this through."

The other end was silent.

"You sure you're okay?"

I sighed hard. "I met Noah Sebastian."

Now there was dead silence on the phone.

"I'm so fucking sorry, I've lost my mind. Can you repeat that?" Her voice was deadly.

"You heard me."

"Noah Sebastian? From Bad Omens?!" I could hear her voice raising some octaves.

"Yeah a few days ago."

"Fucking where?!" I had to hold the phone at a distance from my ear.

"At...my work." My brain worked overtime to work out this lie.

"I call bullshit." She is too good at seeing through me.

"Laura, would you fucking listen?"

"Noah Sebastian did not walk into a fucking mortgage office and just happen to meet my best friend, the loan officer. Bullshit."

"Laura, listen!"

"Fuck! Fine! What?!" I could feel her irritation.

"I have tickets to their show tonight. In their VIP booth."

"Did you help him buy a house or some shit?!" That actually wasn't bad.

"Possibly. Still up in the air."

"You're such a fucking liar."

"Do you want to go or not? We'll be seeing him after."

I could feel her jaw drop to the floor. "We're going to meet the band?"

"No, not the band. I don't think. Just Noah."

"Just Noah? Christ Mileena, did you fuck him or something?!"

"Absolutely not! Laura what the hell?!"

"What?? You don't even listen to Bad Omens." I scoffed at that.

"I fucking do now."

After a solid hour of interrogatories from Laura, planning on getting to the event (I would drive, obviously) and what we would wear, we finally hung up.

I had about three and a half hours before I had to leave to pick her up. I had enough time for a walk with Angel, lunch, and to get ready.

When Angel and I set out on the sidewalk, and I had set up my AirPods (3 guesses who I was listening to), my phone chimed with a text. I groaned. Didn't we get through enough details?

When I saw the text though, I was surprised to see Noah's name.

Noah: Hey, weird request, but could I call you for like ten minutes?

I was puzzled, but typed a quick affirmative response.

My phone rang a few moments later.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I'm sorry." His immediate apology confused me.

"Sorry for what?" I could hear him chuckle, his voice slightly hushed.

"Calling. I know it's weird." I half-smiled. There was a level of innocence to Noah that made me feel better about this entire situation.

"Noah, I'm your sponsor. You're allowed to call me any time, day or night."

"But what if I call you at 3AM cause I'm craving sugar?"

I shook my head, weaving down the sidewalk with Angel heeling nicely at my left.

"Then we go get ice cream?"

I could hear the smile in his voice. "No way. You don't mean that."

I proudly responded. "Wouldn't be the first time."

He only snorted in response. I did wonder why he needed to call.

"Are you okay?"

"Mm, yeah. We're at the venue. Did sound check a while ago. The guys cracked open some beers. I told them I was going to take a quick walk to get some air. I feel like they might know something." His concern was thick in his words.

"Ah, okay. Well, super proud of you for walking away. That's amazing on it's own."

"Yeah?" He sounded unsure.

"Oh, one hundred percent."

"Thanks Leena." He sighed. His voice then came out a little smoother. "Did you talk to Laura?"

"I did."

"And how did that go?"

I smirked. "Well, she doesn't believe that I met you at work, so now she's got horrific ideas of how I met you, but she's in."

This made him laugh. "Horrific like how?!"

"I won't repeat it. But either way, she doesn't know how we actually know each other. I'm struggling to figure out how I'm going to explain us giving you a ride home?"

He was quiet, my guess was thinking. "How well do you know her?"

"Better than anyone, why?"

"You trust her?"

"With my life."

"Tell her. It's easier that way. Just maybe ask we don't all chat about it?" This took me back. As private as he is, and he doesn't even know me that well? Why trust me, or someone I trust, with this secret? His reputation is somewhat on the line.

"You sure?"

"Should I not be?"

I sighed. "I wouldn't risk your good name Noah. I promise."

"Thanks Leena." I heard muffled voices in the background. "Hey, I've got to go. See you later?"

I agreed, and we disconnected the call.

The ride to the venue was mostly quiet, aside from the soft music on the radio playing.

"So...anything else I should know before we walk in there? Ronnie Radke isn't going to be hanging with us too, is he?"

I chuckled at this.

"Listen babe, I've got to tell you something."

She lifted her eyebrow in a knowing look. "Knew you were lying."

I shrugged. "Look, I'm going to tell you this, but this is covert level secrecy. No one can know. Or Noah is fucked. So promise me? Not even your husband gets to know?"

Her look turned more serious.

"Of course babe. Anything."

"I'm Noah's sponsor." Her jaw dropped open, almost unnaturally so.

"He's in AA too?" I nodded.

"He just started. And he needed a sponsor. I offered. He needed help getting through this show and the after party. So he's going to pretend to be sick after, meet us backstage, and we're going to smuggle him out and drive him home."

I could see the wheels in her head turning. She believed me now. She knew I never lied about AA.

"Oh my God, babe." She shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I pried too hard. Jesus, I feel like an asshole."

I waved her off. "Don't, my love. He gave me permission to tell you." She nodded at that, sitting back in her seat.

After a beat, she giggled to herself. "You sure are the luckiest sponsor ever." That made me laugh. I wasn't so sure yet.

The show was electric. The man on stage, singing, was a different person entirely. If it weren't for the fact that he made direct eye contact with me several times throughout the night, I would've never believed him to be the same shy, unsure, uncomfortable man he was in group. On stage, he was confident, he was in control, he was the leader, and the crowd, his flock. It was insane to watch, and I would be lying if I hadn't said I felt absolutely mystified at points. I teared up when they played Just Pretend, vehemently singing along. This was not lost on him, and I caught the smirk he got when he saw my glassy-eyed singing. No different than any other fan. That's okay, that's who I was for now.

We were to not be seen or noticed. We were shadows waiting to seamlessly remove him.

Once the set ended, and everyone waited for Motionless in White to come out, moving in and out of their seats toward the bars and bathrooms, Laura and I followed the security guard who had been told to allow us backstage.

I checked my phone a few times, but still had not heard from him. As we made our way to the meet and greet area, we saw the giant line of fans waiting for their band to show up. We slyly waited against a wall behind the line. We blended in.

"Have you heard from him?" I checked my phone again with no results.

"No, but I would bet he has to do meet and greet first. I don't strike him as the type to disappoint fans."

She nodded in agreement, so we waited.

After about twenty minutes, we heard screaming, and looked over to see them come out, waving at everyone waiting in line. I saw his eyes searching. Was he looking for us?

Pulling out my phone, I shot a quick message.

Me: By the trash cans.

He was talking to a girl with his face on her shirt when he slipped his phone from his pocket and his eyes immediately scanned and found mine. The smallest hint of a smile lifted his lips. I saw him turn his back for a moment, and turning back to sign autographs

Noah: Thought I lost you. M&G will be over in 45min. Meet me in the parking lot?

I sent a thumbs up, instructed Laura of our plans, and we began our trek to the car. Once in the car, I sent a quick location pin to him so he could find us. I got a response a few minutes later.

Noah: Just look for the ancient Tahoe. Roger that.

I rolled my eyes, and despite Laura watching her concert videos, she noticed.

"What?" I showed her my phone, and she smiled.

"Well, he's funny, huh?" I nodded.

"An absolute dork." She bit her lip, turning in my seat.

"Leena?" I looked up at her from my phone screen, looking at my own videos.

"Hmm?"

"Do you like him?" I paid little attention to the question.

"Oh sure, he's a nice guy." She put her hand on my shoulder, making me give her my full attention.

"No, Mileena," she pushed my phone down. "do you like him?"

This made me scoff. "Laura, I barely know him!"

"What's to know? He's a singer in a near famous band. He's got the voice of an angel. He's adorable." This made me roll my eyes again.

"I'm his sponsor." She threw her hands up.

"Is it illegal?" I shook my head.

"No, but it's awful and would make me a terrible human. And I work very hard to be a good human."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I don't believe that, but okay. I respect it." I smiled at her.

"Thank you Laura."

"But I still think you like him."

I was silent in response, not amused by her pushing.

“He has a girlfriend anyway, Laura.”

I watched her eyes nearly bug out of her head. “He does?!”

“Yeah, he told me yesterday.” I could see the disbelief on her face.

“I’ve never heard that. What’s her name?” I sighed, thinking back to our conversation the day before.

“He…didn’t say? Just mentioned he had one, and she didn’t know about AA yet.”

Her lips pursed. “Not buying it.”

This made my eyes widen.

“What?”

“He has a girlfriend but doesn’t even tell you her name? And doesn’t tell her he’s made a life changing decision to get well? I’m not buying.”

I rolled my eyes. “Christ, Laura, you’ve got trust issues.”

She pointed at me. “Facts. But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t believe it.” She sat back in her seat.

“I’ll just ask him when he gets here, no worries.”

This caused a flood of panic through me. “Please don’t! He’s not the type to talk about personal stuff. He’s actually pretty withdrawn.”

Her blank expression was telling. “Noah? Noah Sebastian? The guy who just went absolutely insane on that stage? Is withdrawn? Mhm, sure.”

I sat back in my chair and groaned.

“Please? That’s his personal business.”

She nodded. “Fine, but you should ask him.”

I didn’t respond, attention now on the text I had from him saying he was headed our way. I started the car, ready for a quick getaway.

After about ten minutes, I saw his tall frame in the doorway of the elevator, jogging over to the car. I snuck a glance at Laura, who looked as though she may absolutely burst.

“Here comes the rockstar.” She let out in a sing-song voice.

The back left door opened, and he slid inside the seat quickly, buckling his seatbelt and running his fingers through his long, and now greasy, hair.

“Hey!” My voice was about three pitches higher for truly no reason at all. This was not lost on my best friend, whose eyes I saw flash over to be before turning around and looking at Noah, eyes absolutely bulging.

“Jesus, it’s like trying to escape a wild pack of hyenas!” He sat back and sighed heavily as my truck backed out of the space and began moving down the aisle. “I mean the guys, not the fans.”

I looked up in my rearview. “Did you do like we talked about?”

“Yes. Made sure to gag as loudly as possible and everything.” I could see the smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

He turned his attention to Laura, holding out his hand. “I’m so rude, I’m sorry.” She took his hand, looking absolutely stunned. “I’m Noah.”

All I heard from her was a weak ‘Laura’ in response.

Once we hit the darkened streets, putting the venue behind us, the tension in the truck relaxed.

I looked up in my mirror again, catching Noah’s attention.

“Do you mind if I drop Laura home first? She’s got to get up early for work tomorrow and her house isn’t very far.”

He smiled. “Of course. I’m all the way in Calabasas, so no worries at all.”

I just nodded. The ride was smooth for a moment, until I heard the familiar ring of an iPhone. It was Noah’s.

“Hello?” I couldn’t hear the voice from the other end. “Hey babe.”

Laura’s face whipped over to me, I’m sure seeing my expression darken ever so slightly.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I’m not sure what happened, but I started feeling off before the set and by the end, I was throwing up.” He waited for the response. “No, uh…” he hesitated. “I actually haven’t drank at all today.”

Something in my chest swelled. I was such a proud sponsor. He was making an effort, and all I could do was appreciate it.

He nervously laughed. “Yeah, right? Shocking, I know.”

I could hear his tone. It broke my heart for him. I knew that conversation, I had many myself. When people don’t believe you haven’t been drinking, or are shocked to hear it. They’ll even go so far as to get angry at you for quitting. It’s a long, torturous road he’s set down, but hopefully with the right support, he will stay on track.

“Well I just caught an Uber, and I’m going to go home and pass out. Try to get over it.”

I made a conscious effort not to look at him, doing my best to respect his privacy. I could see Laura doing the same, scrolling through her phone.

“Yeah, uh, maybe we should wait until Monday? Make sure I’m not contagious, and all that?” His voice almost sounded brightened, but I was likely imagining things.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But do you want to catch this crap?” He made a sound of approval. “Thought so. I’m almost home so I’ll talk to you later babe.” He wasn’t, but okay. “Mhm, I love you too.” Slight poke to the abdomen. Nothing to worry about. “Bye.”

My hands relaxed slightly on the wheel. No one spoke for a little while. I could see his eyes just watching the streetlights fly past the window. He almost looked sad, but I couldn’t piece together why exactly. I could guess, however, that this is harder than he initially anticipated. It always is.

Laura shared my concern, so she spoke up.

“The show tonight was awesome, Noah! Better than the one back in November!”

This sure perked him, making him sit up in his seat. “Yeah? Thank you for saying that.”

“Oh fuck yeah, dude! Watching you guys play is spiritual, honestly.” This made him crack a wide grin.

I felt a poke on my shoulder, causing me to look up.

“What’d you think Leena? How was your first Bad Omens show?” I could see him searching for my answer, but he’s not the only one who could be a smartass.

I waved my hand in a topsy-turvy fashion. “It was alright.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, you cried during Just Pretend.” Laura was triumphantly smiling.

She’s so dead.

My cheeks were getting warmer, and I instinctively cracked my window. When did it get so hot in here?

Noah let out a giggle, an actual fucking giggle. “I thought I saw that.”

“Dude, how can you see anything up there? Fire? Smoke? Lights?”

He shook his head dismissively and flopped back in his seat. “Please. I can see anything if I’m looking for it.”

His words rang out followed by silence. Laura’s face was deadpanned.

What the fuck does that mean? In a literal sense, I get what he meant but wow, what an innuendo to make. Unintentionally, I’m sure.

The context wasn’t lost on Noah, who only cleared his throat, not speaking another word.

Luckily, we were already cruising down Laura’s street, stopping in front of her driveway.

“Welp, this is my stop.” She turned to look in the backseat. “Thank you so much for the concert. It really was awesome.”

This earned her a grateful head nod from him. “Anytime.”

She wouldn’t be forgetting that.

“I love you babes, call me tomorrow?” She wrapped an arm around me while I agreed to her request. She hopped out of the car and within seconds, she was gone.

“You want to stay back there, or hop up front?”

Without answering, a long leg reached over my console, plopping Noah in the passenger’s seat. I stared at him incredulously while he beamed at me.

I shook my head and put the truck back in drive, waiting for him to direct me to his house.

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #fanfic

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