#and thank you liv :’)) can’t wait to know what you think of them :’) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rollingsins · 1 year

Text

all hers, part iv

summary: when someone touches you inappropriately at a party, Ghostface!Tara remerges.

warnings: dark themes, murder, non-consensual kissing/groping of reader (not by Tara, from another character) - if this is triggering for you, please skip this chapter.

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this part is a little bit of a break from the smut, more hurt/comfort, but don’t worry, the smut will be back for the next chapter. Let me know your thoughts and what you would like to see next.

It was the same every weekend: Amber, Tara’s best friend, would wait until her Dad left town, then phone up half the school for a Saturday night rager. Tara took you every weekend. It was the only real time the two of you would jump out of your love bubble, besides when you were in school. It was kind of nice to get out, get drunk and have a dance.

The only downside? Having to hang out with Tara’s friends.

Mindy and Wes were okay, but Chad was a fuckboy, Liv was a drama queen and Amber was a straight up bitch. You weren’t really sure why Tara was still friends with any of them, considering how little they all had in common. When you’d asked, Tara had just shrugged and said they’d been friends forever, since elementary school. So you put up with them for her, swallow your distaste for them with a red cup full of beer. At least the beer was free.

You almost spill it over yourself as you lean over the couch, placing Tara’s cup on the table next to her. You drink out of your own cup, settle down onto the couch next to her. The party is in full swing, but as usual Tara and her friends claim the living room, passing around a half-lit joint as they talk amongst themselves.

Tara leans into you. Presses a kiss to your cheeks.

“You look so hot in that new skirt, baby.” She murmurs into your ear. You smile, press a quick kiss to her lips. She’d taken you shopping that afternoon, and the moment she’d seen it on you she’d insisted on buying it. Her fingers skim across your thighs under the material, rub the soft skin there.

“Thanks, babe.” You say. She reaches for you, grabs you gently by the waist, trying to tug you into her lap. You shift your weight onto her, wrap your arms around her neck and kiss her, deep.

The sound of Amber tutting breaks you apart.

“You two are nauseating.” She sneers, “Can’t you go five minutes without being on top of each other?”

“I think they’re sweet.” Liv coos from the other side of the room. She’s draped over Chad, her boyfriend, who’s mostly ignoring her in favor of watching sports on his phone. “I wish Chad wanted me on his lap all the time.”

“You’re too heavy.” Chad says, mindlessly. Liv smacks him.

“You’re just jealous no one wants you in their lap, Amber.” Tara says. She rubs her hands over the tops of your thighs, skimming your underwear, not bothering to hide it.

Amber rolls her eyes.

“Please. I could pull half of this room. Guys and girls alike.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Go on then.” You challenge. You scan the room quickly. Point out a broad shouldered jock. “What about him?”

She grimaces. “Too dumb.”

Your eyes fall on a slim blonde girl, you point her out.

“Too skinny.”

“Wes is single.” Mindy pipes up. Chad sniggers.

“Ew. Too dorky.”

Amber looks at you, suddenly. Her eyes narrow as she drops her beer to the table. She stands, moves in close so she’s hovering over you.

“Maybe I’ll just take you.” She says, voice low. Smirk on her lips, “See what all the fuss is about. Figure out why Tara’s so obsessed with you.”

You feel Tara’s hands tighten around your waist.

“Why don’t you try and see what happens?” Tara says. Her eyes are hard, voice serious. Mindy and Wes stare. Even Chad looks up from his phone. Amber smiles.

“Down girl.” She laughs. She backs away, picks up her drink, “She’s not my type anyway. I don’t do good girls.”

Tara’s still rigid against you as Amber wanders off, no doubt to harass some poor freshman into doing another beer run. You lean back into her, press a warm kiss to her lips. “Love you.” You say, quiet enough so the others can’t hear, “Don’t let her under your skin.”

And she relaxes. Smiles slightly, tilts her head up to meet your lips.

The party continues. You watch as Mindy and Chad argue about the rules of beer-pong. Wes comes over at some point, engrosses Tara in a thirty minute conversation about some horror film they’d seen together. You scoot yourself off her lap, leaving her with a quick kiss. She looks up at you, questioning.

“Need to pee.” You assure. She nods, goes back to her conversation.

You move through the sea of bodies, manage to find a line that isn’t too long down in the hallway bathroom. Alcohol thrums pleasantly through you. You feel light, carefree. That might be the weed.

When it’s your turn, you open the door and go inside, only to be stopped by a foot in the door.

It’s Amber. You blink as she nudges her way into the bathroom, locks the door behind her.

“What are you doing?” You ask. She shrugs, turns to the mirror.

“I need to pee. It’s my house, I’m not waiting in line.”

You stare at her for a moment. She brushes lipgloss over her lips. This is weird. You don’t want to be here any more.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll leave you to it.”

She moves in front of the door, blocks your exit.

“You look really pretty tonight.” She says. Voice syrupy sweet. “That skirt is- wow.” Her eyes rake down your bare thighs. You cross your arms, self conscious.

“Thanks.” You say. “Tara bought it for me.”

“I can see why.” Amber says. She leans a little close. “If you were my girlfriend, I’d make you wear slutty little outfits like that too. Easy access, right?”

You take a step back.

“She doesn’t make me wear anything.” Is the only thing you can think to say.

“So you’re trying to tease her?” Amber asks, her eyes flashing, “Is that it? Get her all horned up for you so she’ll take you into a bathroom and fuck the life out of you?”

“I should go.”

This time you try and push past her. It’s a mistake, you realize all at once. Amber’s hands grip your shoulders, and now your faces are inches apart.

“I don’t see Tara anywhere. But I’m here now. I’ll fuck you better than she ever could.”

Before you can protest, she’s surging forward, taking your lips in a rough kiss.

You try to jerk away but your hands grip your face, holding you tight onto her. You struggle, hard, finally prying yourself away from her.

“Hey!” You slap her off but she’s stronger than you. She pushes you against the bathroom counter, sending toiletries flying to the floor. You grunt in pain as your back hits the counter. Before you can recover, she’s close again. Hands under your skirt, groping.

“Don’t be such a fucking tease.” She growls. “You’ve been walking around half naked all night and you’re trying to tell me you don’t want it?”

“Not from you.” You say. You shove her off, hard as you can. She stumbles back. It’s the chance you need. You surge towards the door, fumbling with the handle. Before you can pry it open, she’s back, pressing her hand against the door.

“Hey.” Her voice suddenly soft. Sweet. “I’m sorry. We got off on the wrong foot. How about we sit down. Get to know each other?”

“Fuck you.”

You tug the door. She jams her foot in the way.

“Tara won’t believe you.” She says, voice hard, “I’m her best friend. You’re just some slut she’s been fucking for less than a year.”

“Two years.” You tell her. “Get out of my way.”

She stares at you for a long moment. For a second, you think she might hit you.

“Fine. Fucking prude.” She sneers, backing off. “I didn’t want you anyway.”

You’re shaking when you go back downstairs. Tears spill down your cheeks, your lips still sting with the force of Amber’s unwanted kiss. She’s ripped your skirt, you hold it together with your hands as you make an escape for the back door.

It’s quieter outside, only a few people lingering. You head to the bottom of the garden, stand against the fence.

Your lip trembles. You’re wearing Tara’s jacket, pull it tight around your shoulders. You take a breath. Try and still yourself. Tara will be looking for you soon. If she finds you like this, eyes wet and sniffling, she’ll know something is wrong. She’ll know what Amber tried to do.

Tara’s going to kill her, you realize with a jolt. Not figuratively. She will literally kill her. Tonight, maybe. A fresh wave of tears spill from your eyes.

You catch your breath. Steady your breathing. It’s not ten minutes before you hear the crunch of shoes on the grass behind you, and someone’s hands looping around your waist.

“There she is.” Tara’s voice jolts you out of your reverie. She presses her lips to your shoulder, “My sweet girl.”

You lean back into her. Sniff back your tears. She can’t see your face from this angle. You blink away your tears.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.” She asks, as she rubs your arms. She smells familiar, like vanilla and cinnamon. You breathe her in, instantly comforted. You close your eyes, turn yourself in her arms. Nestle yourself into her neck. Her lips press to the top of your head.

“Here.” You only half lie. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Nothing.” You mumble into her neck.

She hums against you.

“Should we go home?” She wonders, “It’s getting a bit sad in there.”

You tilt your head back to look at the house.

It’s emptying out. You nod. Stand up properly. You tilt your head slightly away from her, hoping she’ll miss your puffy cheeks. She doesn’t. Her hands catch your waist, tilting your face to her.

Her brow furrows.

“You’ve been crying.” She says, voice soft.

You gulp. She has you, there’s no point in lying.

“A little.”

“Why?”

You could try to lie. Save Amber’s pathetic ass. But you know there’s no point. Tara knows you inside and out. She can read your every mood. Hunt out any little white lie. She knows you off by heart.

“Someone tried to kiss me.” You hesitate. “She did kiss me. But I didn’t-” You can feel the tears pricking up once more. “I didn’t want it.”

Tara blinks. Her hands on your waist tighten their grip.

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters.” Tara says through gritted teeth. “Tell me. Now.”

“Tara-“

“Baby, if you don’t tell me who it is I’m going to take my knife and slit the throat of every girl in that house.”

You swallow hard. She isn’t kidding, you can see it in her eyes.

“Amber.”

Her eyes flash, but not with anger. Something else. Hurt, maybe, betrayal. Her jaw clenches. You put your hands on her forearms, try to bring her back to you.

“Tara. Baby. It’s okay-”

You can see the fight behind her eyes.

“I knew she’d try something like this.” She says, sounding aggravated, “Bitch. She’s always wanted my things, even when we were kids.”

Tara looks back to the house. Steadies her grip on your shoulders. Her hands cup your cheek, wiping away your tears. Her gaze drops a little lower, lingering on your ripped skirt.

“What happened to your skirt?” She asks. You swallow hard. “Did she do that?”

You hesitate. She leans in, presses a reassuring kiss to your lips.

“Tell me exactly what happened.” She says as she pulls away, voice quiet, “Every detail.”

And you do. She listens, a quiet storm brewing behind her eyes. When you’re finished, she takes you in her arms, presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” She murmurs. “I never should have left you alone.”

You sway in her arms for a moment, before she’s retracting, pulling her phone from her pocket.

“I’m going to call Sam.” She says, pressing her lips to your cheek. “She’s going to take you home.”

Your heart sinks.

“No.” You say, “Tara, no. I want you to come home with me. I don’t want Sam-”

“I’ll be home as soon as I’m done.” She says, strokes your face reassuringly. She’s calm. Too calm. It sends a chill down your spine. You grip onto her arms.

“Tara, no. You promised.”

She looks at you, a little frustrated.

“Sweetheart. She put her hands on you. She hurt you. She made you cry.” She cups your cheek, tenderly. Brushes away the fresh tears that trickle down your face, “Don’t you see? That’s why she has to die.”

You shake your head, fervently.

“No. That isn’t what I want. I don’t want you to kill for me, Tara. That isn’t what I need. I just need my girlfriend to hold me and tell me everything’s going to be okay, and that I’m safe with her.”

She’s pulling you back into her arms. Cradles you tightly.

“Everything’s going to be okay.” She promises. You bury your face in her chest, comforted by her scent. “I love you. I’m going to keep you safe, I promise.”

“You’re not going to kill her.” You say into her chest, “Promise me.”

“Baby-”

“Promise me, Tara.”

You’re pulling away from her, looking into her eyes.

“I can’t lose you,” You say, cupping her cheeks. Your eyes are glistening with tears again. You grip onto her so tight, trying to make her understand. “Everytime you put on that mask you risk getting caught. And then they’ll take you away from me.”

“Oh, baby.” She says, “Is that what you’re worried about?”

It is what you worried about, more than anything. Sometimes you’d have nightmares about it: Tara, being dragged away in handcuffs, locked in a cell while they threw away the key. You nod.

“No-one will ever keep you from me.” She promises. She looks so pretty in the moonlight. Soft brown eyes stare back at you adoringly, almost as if she’s not trying to negotiate murder, “I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Yes I can.” She says. Her lips press to yours, insistent.

She takes your hand, presses it to her chest.

“You feel that?” She murmurs. Her heartbeat is wild, erratic. You press your fingertips to her chest, trying to soothe her. It doesn’t work. “That’s what happens when someone tries to take you from me. It doesn’t feel good, baby. It hurts me. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. Do you know what it feels like to have your heart racing 24/7?”

You blink up at her. Shake your head.

“There’s only one thing that can stop it.” She murmurs. “I know you don’t like Ghostface. But sometimes she’s the only thing that can make me feel sane again. Everytime you ask me to stop, I have to fight this storm in me. Fight my instincts. I don’t know how much longer I can fight, baby.”

Her hands are shaking, you notice for the first time.

You rub her arm with your hand. Duck down, press your lips to her chest. Close your eyes.

“So, I’m going to call Sam, okay?” She’s asking now. Her eyes pleading. “She’s going to take you home.”

Your heart jumps in your throat.

Slowly, you nod.

Relief fills her face. She grips onto you, squeezes you tight.

“Be careful.” You murmur, “Please, baby, be careful for me.”

She kisses you, soft.

The next hour is like a fever dream. Tara puts you into Sam’s car, kisses you goodbye.

Sam’s still trying to make up for lost time with her sister so she doesn’t ask too many questions. The drive home is almost silent, you staring out the window, imagining the tilt of Tara’s knife slitting Amber’s throat. All you can think about is her getting caught. Praying she was careful enough not to leave behind any evidence. Maybe it should worry you how little you care about someone dying. But it doesn’t.

You climb into Tara’s bed alone, waiting for her. You stare at the ceiling. Minutes pass by agonizingly slow. All you can do is wait.

Finally, after what must have been hours, you hear her come in the front door. You sit up, chewing your lip, anxious as you hear the shower run.

When she opens the bedroom door, she’s dressed for bed.

She climbs into bed with you. Wraps her arms around your waist. You turn in her arms, immediately. Press your hand to her chest. Her heartbeat is steady, normal. She’s calm. You relax.

“She’s never going to touch you again.” Tara murmurs. She presses a tender kiss to your forehead. You don’t want to know. You burrow yourself as tight as you can in her arms. Focus on her steady heartbeat.

“I promise.”

Next part

#scream #ghostface!tara #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #mine #ah #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader

1K notes · View notes

randombush3 · 1 year

Text

Completely and Totally Unattached

florence pugh x footballer!reader

part two to Good In Bed

summary: everything stays completely and totally unattached. why wouldn’t it?

words: 3470

warnings: there’s a sex scene, and maybe cocaine i can’t remember (what a concerning thing to say btw)

notes: THIS IS A TRILOGY. i thought about making this one way longer, but i’ve decided to split this part into two. don’t even ask about the game timeline because i don’t want to talk about it.

Everything is perfect for a while.

You smile when you see her and she starts to invite you over hours before any sex really happens; you wake her up in the morning with a coffee and a goodbye kiss and a face that makes her question the feelings that aren’t in the arrangement.

One evening, you find an invitation to a Tiffany event sitting menacingly on her coffee table. She eyes it with caution once you inquire, and declares she hates events and won’t be going. “I hate going alone,” she mumbles in stark contrast to the confidence of her previous announcement, “and Livvy is in Oxford that weekend.”

You wait for her to ask you instead but she doesn’t. Not then, anyway.

It’s a feeble, meek, pathetic text, but you see it before she can press delete.

FP: Could you come with me?

You scramble to unlock your phone, making the sleeping Katie leaning on your shoulder whine. To keep the air of secrecy alive, you cast a glance around the others on the bus. No one else knows you’re fucking Florence Pugh.

You: Yeah, of course

Florence gets herself together when you reply, and calls you. You’ve started to associate the number with more than sex, but it’s okay. It’s a friendship.

“Thank you so much,” she begins, voice uncharacteristically tender. “You don’t happen to know your measurements? Suit or dress?”

“Suit,” you answer easily. She is quick to imagine what that would look like. Though a bit outdated, you have a set of measurements typed hastily in your notes app. “I’ll text them to you.”

Then, the day of the event comes and you spend the night attracting the gaze of everyone in the room, and having them wonder when Florence Pugh decided to make friends with professional athletes. You beam at her the whole evening, and she fights her blush when Barratt West brings up the new designs for engagement rings.

“We’re just friends,” you tell him casually, as if the statement won’t pierce through her eardrums. She’s not sure why it bothers her so much.

And then it’s almost like an epiphany.

Florence Pugh loves the footballer she sometimes wakes up beside.

Almost an epiphany, because these feelings haven’t suddenly pounced on her. She’s just decided to acknowledge them.

She figures that all three rules are broken: Livvy had known the minute her best friend was checking her phone a little too often; you stay over; she loves you.

Nothing feels different. Even if she worries she’s been utterly exposed every time your bodies touch, you treat her exactly the same as you did the night before she came upon this realisation. She supposes that means you don’t feel the same way. She knows she shouldn’t carry this on.

She tells herself she should terminate the arrangement for another two days as a form of self-sabotaging procrastination, but Thursday night’s musings turn into drinks with Livvy on Friday.

“How’s Y/n?” her best friend asks her, prying because it’s fun.

“I don’t know.” You’re in Brighton for an away game and it’s taking up the whole weekend. It’s an abnormally long weekend, Florence tells herself. Time is going slowly for everybody. “I think I’m going to break it off.”

“What?”

“My unattached sex with Y/n is no longer that,” states Florence plainly. She hides the grimace that comes with saying it out loud, and swirls what’s left of her whiskey around in her glass.

“I told you she’d catch feelings,” Liv teases, nudging her friend. Florence stares at the green surface of the bar, tapping her feet against her stool. “Footballers aren’t—”

“She’s not the one with the feelings.” Livvy pauses, shaking her head; she doesn’t understand.

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, Livvy tries the sentence out, “she’s not the one with the…”

“Don’t.” Florence holds her index up to her friend’s face. “We both know now. Don’t make me say it out loud.”

“Have you told her?”

No.

Why on earth would she do that?

The answer is conveyed in the pointed look Florence shoots her.

Her and Livvy speak no more of the matter, continuing their night in the overpriced cocktail bar. It’s packed with the rich and famous, so it isn’t a hard task for Florence to befriend some producer or other. He extends an invitation for her to join him in the bathroom, cheeks rosy and eyes glazed over. She finds herself accepting, but only does the cocaine in front of her. He tries to kiss her but his lips feel wrong; rough when they should feel soft. It’s not a difficult puzzle to solve. She doesn’t really want to kiss anyone other than you.

Florence decides not to put a stop to your agreement that night.

The producer hints that they should get going, get out of here, go to somewhere more… private. It makes her skin crawl. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s just not you.

She has never felt so embarrassed of her own internal monologue. She wants it to shut the fuck up. You like her sounds out mercilessly on repeat, echoing and echoing and echoing, until she’s scratching her scalp a bit too harshly. You’re still not back because it’s only Sunday.

You’re on the team bus. Asleep. She shouldn’t know that, but she grows curious of your whereabouts and checks Instagram. A teammate you often mention — teammate and best friend you’d drunkenly explained in attempt to not let her get to know you — is sure to house some video or other, and she’s correct. Katie McCabe has posted a picture of you fast asleep with a familiar green jumper bundled into a pillow.

She hates that she’s endeared. Instead, Florence makes a mental note to chastise your use of her cashmere clothing, and focuses on how annoyed that has made her feel.

With each passing minute she stares at the picture, she imagines her feelings for you smothered beneath the fabric, suffocated until they don’t exist anymore.

- - -

Much to your dismay, you are not loved enough to be woken with a kiss. The whistle blown in your ear is quite far from that.

“We’re here, sleeping beauty,” Katie follows with equal shrillness and volume. You press your face further into Florence’s jumper. It smells like her. “Get up, Y/n!”

“Fuck you,” you groan, yawning as you slowly stand up. “I was having a good dream.” Katie smirks. “A dream about kittens,” you clarify truthfully.

You join the huddle your team forms outside the bus. Most of the girls chat quietly, everyone exhausted from the hard fought win. A few of your teammates ask you to join them for a late dinner. Katie tells them that you have plans of your own before you can form a sentence.

A black town car parks in front of you, earning wolf whistles from almost everyone. “Someone fancies herself to be Ronaldo,” jokes Kim quietly. “Got room in there?”

The driver rolls down the window. It’s the middle of November in England, but he’s wearing aviators. “I was told to pick you up,” he says, voice gruff but familiar. There have been a few times where Florence has decided you can’t stay over and has sent you home in this black town car with the very same man. You didn’t realise she actually had a driver. You forget to associate the Flo that gasps your name like it’s a prayer with Florence Pugh.

“Thank you, Douglas,” you reply with a smile. The Arsenal badge you wear proudly makes him scowl. “I hear West Ham haven’t been doing well this season.”

“You’re lucky I’m contractually obliged to drive you to Miss Pugh’s building,” he tells you. You take it as playful, but it probably has some truth to it.

Thankfully no one else seems to catch the conversation, fawning over Leah and Beth’s joint appearance to collect their respective players. Katie sends you a wink as she gets into the car in which she’ll be the fifth wheel.

- - -

Florence thanks whoever is watching above that you got some rest on the bus.

She’s helpless the minute you walk through the door with a cocky grin. You don’t have time to comment on how desperate she must be if she’s sent a car, because you’re jumped and are carrying her to a stable surface before you get a chance to take your shoes off. She likes the idea of making out in the middle of her hallway, not doubting your strength (how can she? she’s seen you naked) and ability to be able to do so. However, Florence takes pity on you and grants you the opportunity to rest your arms before they’re put to very good use.

You have your joggers halfway down your legs by the time you get the two of you to her bedroom. She stands up as soon as you set her down on her bed. You undress quicker.

Your lips seem to cover every inch of her, but you focus on her shoulder as you pull her closer, hands wrapped around her torso. One hand shifts south, tugging the elastic band of her panties, warm palm soothing the trail of goosebumps your touch leaves. It’s soft and tender and Florence is not about to let herself do anything but fuck.

She grabs that hand and pulls it away. “No,” she says, and you stop immediately. “Get on the bed.”

Your haze of arousal clears, and you’re concerned. “You alright?”

Fuck you for caring.

“Yes,” she states impatiently. “Get on the bed.”

The victory is easy, and you sprawl out against the white bedsheets confidently. Your pose makes Florence want to absolutely ruin you.

She throws you the strap and tells you to put it on. You blush as she watches you, and try not to die when she rewards you by mounting you without delay (cause of death: too attracted to women).

You gasp as you cup the hips rocking into you, and Florence finds that unacceptable. She is not going to tolerate any ardent touches. How dare you remind her of how she feels.

“No,” she says, pushing your hands off her. “I’m going to ride you until one of us snaps, and you’re going to keep your hands away from me. Okay?”

The unexpected dominance isn’t not doing it for you, and the consequential look on your face finalises the control Florence has regained.

“More than okay.” You nod to punctuate your breathless stammer of a sentence.

Florence pulls out every trick she’s ever been taught about sex, employing every element of herself to complete the show she is giving you. And just like magic, it works.

She does eventually relinquish control of the top after an orgasm or two, sated by the way your muscles tense as if you haven’t allowed yourself to breathe in a long time.

You don’t know how it happens, but you find the groove of your usual dominance soon enough to have her asking for more as you press up against her in every right way possible.

Florence Pugh realises you might be a little too good in bed.

To console herself, she pretends each thud of the headboard against the wall is hammering the bubbling feeling of love far, far down.

The feelings survived the suffocation, and will survive this too, but it isn’t for lack of trying.

It’s late by the time you’ve both washed up, but you don’t make an effort to slip into her bed. She misses the days (nights) where you’d stare longingly at the pillows but never be granted permission to stay, and regrets ever giving in to those eyes.

You sit rigidly at the foot of her bed, accidentally staring at her, perplexed. She finds it all too endearing how your face usually lays your thoughts bare.

“What was that about?” you ask carefully, wrapping your tongue around the words slowly. You’re being cautious. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, that has got to be the best thing I’ve ever experienced. It was so hot? You were so hot, and you’re always hot — I always find you hot — but that was a new level of fucking sexy, and I’m getting distracted. You just seemed determined. Are you, well, is everything okay?”

“Of course,” she brushes off.

You know it’s a lie. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist.

“Flo…”

She hates it when you call her that. It makes her skin crawl. In a bad way. A bad way, most definitely.

“You’re really going to pretend to care?” she asks bitterly. This is apparently her plan B. “I’m fine.”

“Oh,” you reply, dejected, “okay. I was just—” You decide to leave it, ending your sentence there. She looks at you expectantly, and you climb in beside her, slipping underneath the covers as comfortably as one would in their own home. “I’m playing next Wednesday.” Florence nods encouragingly; she knows that. “And, uh, my brother was going to watch but he’s been asked to help out with a faulty set, so I have a spare ticket.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find—”

“Can you come?” She squints at you. You repeat the question. “Obviously you don’t have to, but it’s the Champions League so the game will be good and there’ll be food and I can actually set you up in the executive box, now that I think about it. So you don’t have to sit— ‘cause my ticket would be in… What?”

Head propped up by her arm, Flo smiles. “By all means, continue.” You frown. “As long as you win,” she agrees. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You feel a little used. “Goodnight, Flo.”

As Wednesday approaches, you become absent from Florence’s bed. It leaves her sexually frustrated and a bit hurt emotionally, but when you call her from Leah’s guest bathroom and explain everything she forgives you. Her anger is redirected towards your manager.

Jonas has created a new rule that only seems to apply to you. If it’s just for sex, players are heavily encouraged (commanded) to spend the night before the game away from their distraction. When announced, he purposefully avoided looking at you, perhaps allowing you to have a shred of dignity left. Leah offered her spare bedroom because it used to be yours when you first moved to Arsenal.

A harsh, impatient knock on the door ruins the conversation. “It’s late, you should be in bed,” Leah reprimands you. “Be responsible. Or I’ll tell Jonas.”

You are not in that man’s good books right now. “Don’t tell Jonas,” you grumble, flushing the toilet to make it seem like you had a reason for being in there. “Night, Mum.”

Unlocking the bathroom door, you traipse out with your phone volume as low as possible until the spare room is sealed and private. The joggers you’re wearing will be fine to sleep in, and you’re too lazy to change. Once Florence hears the rustle of your sheets, she’s quick to speak up again.

“Sleeping?”

You bite your bottom lip. You should be getting some rest, and tomorrow’s game is important. But there is something anchoring you to the sound of her soft breathing on the other end of the line. You don’t want to hang up. “So… what are you wearing?”

You’re not going to apologise for what’s about to happen at Leah’s place, even if your friend drinks two coffees the next morning instead of one. And Leah’s not going to talk about the name she hears you moan when she walks past your room at an unfortunate time.

Until she runs into you in the car park after you part ways to grab something you ‘left behind’ (it may have been a certain someone’s bum but the specifics are of little importance), and in turn walks right into Florence Pugh dressed to the nines. And then, from the car the actress just got out of, emerges Leah’s stammering teammate offering a half-hearted explanation because Flo really does look drop-dead gorgeous and you’re not quite over it yet.

Jaw set, Leah grinds her teeth judgmentally. “So this is your…”

“Friend,” Florence supplies, not caring if it’s futile and a waste of breath. She looks at you, and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, Flo and I are friends!” Not a single person in this conversation believes that. “Sorry, quick introduction: Leah, this is Flo; Flo, Leah.” Your hands wave around the space between them, nervously trying to distract the piercing stares of one set of green eyes and another of grey. “She’s going to watch.”

The two women look each other up and down. Leah crosses her arms, Florence takes a step closer to you. “I’m excited,” the actress says, though it’s unenthusiastic and entirely provocative; a jab at the sport Leah clearly adores.

“We’d better get going, shouldn’t we?” you squeak, feeling Florence’s hand rest on your waist. “Leah?”

“Yeah,” she acknowledges, though she makes no effort to back away from the silent battle. Five more uncomfortable seconds and she stands down. “Let’s go.” Leah grabs your arm and you furrow your eyebrows, leaving Florence to find her way to her seat.

“What was that?!” you hiss once you’re out of earshot. “Have a pissing contest with her, why don’t you!”

“She’s messing with your feelings,” Leah states as if it is a fact taught in primary school. She’s about to continue, but Lotte slaps you both on the bum and tells you to hurry up.

Both her and Katie give you disapproving looks when they spot her in the crowd. You’re sure you see steam coming out of Leah’s ears at the sight of Florence being engaged in conversation with her mum. You kick the ball at her stomach to snap her out of it.

Florence has done her research. It’s a thing she does: research. Reading up on characters, accents, producers, interviewers, actors, and, most recently, you. She likes to think it’s not stalking if she sticks to Google, but amends that mentality once Google becomes too sparse for new information and your Instagram is filled with little insights into your life.

When the arrangement was new, she only cared about who you were, making sure you weren’t married or something ridiculous like that. Before today’s game, she added to her mental factfile with details of how you play. A few updated statistics from the ones she skimmed before ogling at your social media, but most notably a new article from Sky.

Will Y/n L/n leave Arsenal?

It seems that a rumour is being circulated around the WSL that you’re to be traded to Barcelona. You haven’t made an official comment, but the speculation is that you’re outgrowing Arsenal. Florence then went down a rabbit hole of how club transfers work, conveniently knowing that you’ve signed onto Arsenal for another two years. It settles the growing anxiety in her stomach at the thought of you being in another country for an extended amount of time. Moving doesn’t make sense, and you are quick to shut it down when she asks.

Amanda, Leah’s mum, is glad to have Florence to talk to. She’s always been a fan of gossip, and Florence indulges her by talking about what happened at the Oscars. “I love my daughter, I love that she loves football, but it does get tiresome,” Amanda tells Florence with a hushed voice as if she is slandering the entire sport. “I was always a bit of a netball girl, anyway,” she confesses. “Oh, who’re you here to see? I was going to ask.”

Florence remembers that this woman loves to gossip. “I’m keeping the seat warm for Y/n’s brother. He’s a friend.” Your brother was a colleague who has served no other purpose in the arrangement other than his rager of a birthday party in which Florence kissed you on his balcony and you snuck away from everyone else.

“Y/n’s lovely! She’s come a long way, what with her family situation.” Florence is intrigued. “We used to take her to training when those awful people looking after her wouldn’t give her the bus money. I was glad to hear when she moved out.”

This was not on Google.

Florence doesn’t like having her privacy invaded, and so she nods passively along, not asking any questions. Maybe she’ll bring it up with you later.

The whistle blows and the match begins.

Florence can’t help but cheer along with Amanda’s enthusiastic encouragement.

There’s a moment when you look up and see her grinning right back at you, beside the family of other players. She looks like she belongs there.

You want her to belong there.

And, yes, you get tackled because you’re distracted, but you realise you have fallen in love with Florence Pugh.

tags: @pewpughpew @ridleypugh @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @xsophiesx @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz @wandasbb @karsonromanoff

#florence pugh fanfiction #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh one shot #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh imagine #florence x reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh smut #leah williamson #katie mccabe #woso #woso x reader #arsenal wfc

457 notes · View notes

cuttergauthier · 1 year

Text

Saviour

Hughes Female reader x Matthew Knies

Warning: creep, alcohol, cursing, fluff Matt

word count: 1.5k

Sorry I have a problem i love using the Hughes sister AU!

Also send in more request, please be specific, I’ve been busy lately but i’ll try and get to them as soon as I can🤍

let me know what you guys think🤍

I moved to Minnesota for my freshman year of university. I committed here to play on the women’s hockey team. It’s now November and I do miss my family a lot, I can’t wait for when Luke plays Minnesota so I can see him, same for when we go to Michigan to play there. I knew it was going to be hard since I only know one person in Minnesota and that’s Matt Boldy since he’s friends with my brothers, but he plays in the NHL, so I won’t be seeing him a lot.

My parent’s thought it would be better for me if I got an apartment on campus instead of living in a dorm since they would have a place to stay when they come and visit. I like it thought, I have more privacy here than I would have had if I was in a door. since I have two brothers who already play in the NHL, my face had been in the media and some people only want to try and be friends with me because of them.

Today was Saturday and we have a game at 2:00 p.m. we are playing against Wisconsin. It’s now 12:00 p.m. so I was on my way to the arena. I was wearing black leather pants with a black turtleneck and a maroon blazer. Walking in the arena I saw Olivia, she’s our goalie, she’s also a senior.

“Hey Y/n, you ready for the game?” she asked smiling.

“You know it!” I said chuckling.

“We’ve got this” she said

“Hell yeah we do” I said making her laugh.

We made our way to our locker room and got ready for warm ups and the game.

Thankfully the game went really well and we won 4-1, I got a goal and 2 assist.

There was a party tonight after the men’s game. I think some of the seniors on the men’s team were throwing it. A few girl on my team decided to go so I thought I would to. After the game I made my way home since I usually facetime my mom after every game.

Once I got home I went and took a shower and got dressed into some sweatpants and my Minnesota hoodie. I made my way to my kitchen so I could make myself some food I’m starving. I thought I would make myself some chicken and rice. Before I started cooking I put my phone against the counter and facetimed my mom.

“Hey sweetie” she answered smiling.

“Hey mom”

“What are you up to?”

“Making some chicken and rice, I’m starving” I said making her laugh.

“Of course, you had an amazing game today, I loved the goal” she said smiling.

“Thank you mom, are you going to drive to Luke’s game tonight?” I asked

“Yes, your dad and I thought we drive down”

I nodded.

“If you go down to see him after the game, give him a hug for me” I say smiling. I miss my brother.

“I will, he’s counting the days until he gets to see you” she said smiling

“So am I, same for Jack and Quinn I can’t wait for them to play in Minnesota”

“are you still coming home for Christmas?” she asked

“Yes, we have a week off for Christmas, so I’ll be coming home”

“Good”

My mom and I continued talking and when I ate my food.

Once I was done eating, my mom and I said goodbye. It was around 7:30 p.m. and my brother’s game was starting so I turned it on, they were playing against Ohio State, I might as well watch his game while I get ready for the party. Thankfully Olivia was going to be coming over any minute so we could get ready and pregame together. Since she was a senior, she took me under her wing when I first got here, she’s in the same apartment building as me, so I we always hang out together.

After I turned my brothers game on there was a knock on the door so I went to open it.

“Hey Liv” I said smiling when I saw her on the other side.

“Hey girl” she said coming in.

“Let’s get ready for this party” she said smirking at me, making me chuckle.

“Yes, I need a few drinks tonight.” I said, making her laugh.

“Don’t worry girl I got you covered” she said handing me a case of whiteclaw, since I’m underage I couldn’t buy alcohol, so thankfully she bought me some.

“Thank you!” I said smiling.

“You’re welcome, are we watching your brother’s game while we get ready?” she asked hearing the game in the background.

“Yeah if you don’t mind, there playing Ohio State” I said

“I don’t mind, let’s go get ready” she said smiling as we made our way to my room.

“Do you know what you’re wearing?” I ask her, she had brought a bad of clothes with her since she was wearing sweatpants right now.

“Black jeans and a cute maroon long sleeve v neck. What about you?” she said making me nod.

“Light blue mom jeans with a white satin long sleeve top”

“that’s going to look so good” she said smiling

“do you know what time the party is?”

“Umm, I think Em said around 10:30”

I nodded

“Perfect, we can get drunk before going” I said

“Hell yeah” she said and we both chuckled.

When we finished getting ready it was 10 p.m. the game was over and Minnesota won so we know they were definitely excited to party tonight. Liv ordered an uber, by the time we get to the hockey boys house the party would be full of people. Liv and I were already a little drunk.

…………….

Once we got to the party the house was already full of people so Liv and I made our way through to see if we could find Emma our other teammate. I continued drinking so I was feeling the alcohol.

I turned around for a few seconds and when I turned back, I lost sight of Liv. Then some guy approached me and started talking to me. I reconized him from one of my classes, he’s also a freshman his name is Corey but he was so drunk I couldn’t understand what he was saying. The guy also gave me the creeps so I just wanted to find Liv or hopping that she would find me. I really shouldn’t have lost her.

“Can you just leave me alone” I told the guy

Growing up with three older brothers who play hockey and their best friends are hockey player I don’t usually get shy around guys like this one. But back home if something like this happened my brothers always had my back and the guy would leave me alone.

I really wish I knew the guys on the hockey team here, but I don’t I’ve heard about some of them like Logan Cooley since he knows Luke, I think there’s a few others but I’m not 100 percent sure who they are. I probably should have listened when Luke told me.

“Why would I leave you alone, you’re too pretty to be left alone” he slurred smirking.

“I’d rather be alone” I spat.

He grabbed my arm tightly.

“Let go of my arm”

“Not going to happen”

“I think she told you to let her go” I heard a guy say behind me.

“Dude, this doesn’t concern you, leave us alone” Corey spat at the guy

“This is my party, so unless you want to get kicked out of here, I suggest you let her go” I guess he’s a hockey player.

“You know what, whatever she’s not worth it” Corey said releasing my arm and leaving.

I turned around and looked at the guy, he was really good looking.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asked me.

“Oh um, no I’ll be fine, thank you” I said with a soft smile.

“You look familiar” he said looking at me.

“Well I do go to university here” I said chuckling. He chuckled.

“I figured but I feel like I saw you before… wait you’re a Hughes right?” he said, my face turned serious. Why did he need to figure that out, now he probably just wants to now gossip about my brother.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked after I turned serious.

“Look respectfully I don’t want someone to talk to me just because they want to know about my brothers” I scoffed.

“I don’t want to talk about your brothers, that’s how I recognized you, you were at the world juniors this summer right?”

“umm, yeah…”I said slowly, I didn’t know where he was going with this.

“I’m Matthew Knies, I was one of Luke’s teammates at the world juniors.” He said smiling softly.

“oh sorry, it’s just when people usually know about my brothers they usually want something” I said

“Don’t worry, I get it. Can I get you another drink?” he asked.

“No, umm… I think I’ve had enough for tonight, I’m going to head home.” I said.

“Okay then let me drive you home, I haven’t had a drink yet”

“You haven’t had a drink yet? This is your team party” I said chuckling.

“I was going to until I saw the guy getting to you, so I didn’t get the chance” he said smiling.

“I don’t want you to have to leave your party to drive me home, I can order an uber” I said smiling.

“Trust me Brock can handle the party, I’d rather drive you to make sure you get home same, than staying here”

“then I’ll take that drive” I said smiling.

“come on” he said leading me to the door.

We got in his car and we made our way to my apartment, thankfully it’s not far away.

The car ride was quiet, but it was a comfortable, the music was playing softly in the background.

When we got to my apartment building Matthew followed me to my door to make sure I got there safe.

Once we got to my door I turned around and smiled at Matthew.

“Thank you for saving me tonight, for driving me home and for walking me to my door” I said smiling

“It’s no problem… can I kiss you” he said and I smiled

“Yes, you can” I said smiling.

He put his hand on my cheek, leaned forward, and kissed me. I kissed him instantly, our lips moved in sync.

We pulled away both smiling like crazy.

“Do you want to come in?”

239 notes · View notes

pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Text

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part twenty

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

joel plans something amazing for you.

a/n: i’m late I know and I used the same joel pic in the last moodboard but there’s only so much pre-show plot joel I can get my hands on and fuck he just looks so good??? I had a lot of fuckin fun writing this, can’t wait to see what y’all think 🤍

word count: 7k

warnings: y’all know the drill by now, and nothing super heavy or explicit in this part.

✨@friskito-library for updates on new works/chapters✨

3 years later - 2013

“Wait, wait, wait.” Frank’s waving his hands, his eyes squeezed shut. “Tell me again. You what?”

You huff a laugh, hands wrapped around the cup of coffee resting on your thigh. It’s the good shit, from the tin that Frank hides even from Bill. You’re pretty sure he saves it only for your visits, namely ones like these where you two get to relax in the house, chatting away while Bill and Joel are off somewhere in town, fixing something or adjusting some measurement. You learned quickly to keep your distance when the two of them got to talking construction, opting to hide with Frank while your other halves did their thing.

“You know this,” you repeat, but reach into your collar, pulling at the chain around your neck until your ring pops out from your shirt. “It was one of the first things I ever told you, when we first met.”

“Bullshit,” Frank says, shaking his head. He crosses his arm over his chest, leaning back in his chair. “I would remember.”

“How old are you again?” you quip, lifting your coffee to your lips. “Maybe your memory’s going, old man.”

Frank’s jaw drops, and he reaches forward, batting at your hanging boot. “You little shit.”

You laugh, and he laughs with you.

“Okay, but really. Tell me again.”

It’s been a long three years.

Thankfully, things have stayed relatively the same in the QZ, and you’ve remastered the art of sneaking out. Joel is a magnet, glued to your side every time you set foot outside the walls, and while Tess has accompanied you more than once on your trips to Lincoln, she’s a little more content to stay in the QZ than before, and you can’t blame her.

Robin moved in with Tess, and has quickly become part of your little family. However, at Tess’s insistence, she knows nothing about your smuggling operation. As far as she knows, the three of you just take whatever jobs you can get from FEDRA, Joel keeping up his handyman position in your building, you keeping up appearances in the radio room.

You’ve curated your own little collection of radios. There’s the main one, still in your tiny room at Abe’s, but the radio in your apartment now plays the coded songs from Bill and Frank; sixties if there’s nothing new, seventies when you’re due for a visit, and eighties if there’s trouble. So far, there’s been no eighties, and you’re grateful. You’ve become pretty attached to the two older gentlemen living in the little town of Lincoln, and these days, Frank rivals Tess for the title of your closest confidant.

You’ve got a little handheld radio too, for the off-chance you’re out of Boston for an extended period of time, and not heading for Lincoln. Bill had supplied it after your fifth visit, handing it to you as you packed up your bag in the dining room.

“Here,” he said quietly, and you nearly jumped out of your skin, not hearing him approach. “This works on the same frequencies we’ve been communicating on. If you’re ever out of Boston, take it with you, and it’ll still play Frank’s songs.”

You’d stared at the bearded man for a long time, your hand slowly reaching out to take the device. “Thanks, Bill.”

He gave you a curt nod. “You’re welcome.”

You still can’t get a read on the guy, even three years later. Frank insists that you’re his favourite of your group, that he’s got a soft spot for you specifically, but is still wary of Joel. Though you know every conversation Joel and Bill have that revolves around construction and protection gets Joel an inch closer to Bill’s good side.

Since Tommy left, Joel has changed in some ways, stayed exactly the same in others. The day after your first visit to Lincoln, he was home early. Too early. Early enough that you hadn’t even really gotten out of bed yet when he was barging through the door, slamming it shut behind him. It made you flinch, lurching to your feet and calling his name.

He had his hands pressed to the door, his shoulders hunched, head hung between them. You crossed the apartment quickly, laid your hand in the middle of his back, and Joel’s entire body quaked beneath your touch.

“Baby, what happened?” you asked, your worry evident in your tone. “Where were you?”

“Tommy’s gone,” he murmured, and his voice snapped on his little brother’s name. “Fuckin’ Fireflies shipped him off to their base in Minneapolis. He’s gone, Liv. He left us.” Joel pushed off the door, turned slowly towards you, and the sadness in his face made your heart ache. “He left me.”

“Oh, Joel.”

Since that day, he’s become more stoic. More brutal, in ways. Smuggling has become a more common occupation in the QZ, and Joel’s been quick to let the competition know just who you are, and that you were here first. Robert — the head of a rival group with a penchant for taking your drops before you have the chance to reach them — has taken to calling Joel the attack dog. “And your wife’s the one holdin’ the leash,” Robert joked once. Joel gave you a sideways look, and you just nodded. He broke the fucker’s nose.

You’ve crossed paths with Marlene on more than one occasion since Joel’s encounter with her when Tommy first left. Unfortunately. You instantly didn’t like her, but the feeling seemed to be mutual. Every time she looked at you, you felt like you were walking on eggshells, and your mind always begged the question: did Tommy tell her you’re immune? She’s never come out and said it, never asked or alluded to it, but you can’t shake the feeling, the worry, the anxiety.

The radio info she gave Joel wasn’t bullshit, at least. You gave it a few days, like she said, and then found the frequency, called out to the Minneapolis base. The voice that first answered was one you didn’t recognize, but you asked for Tommy specifically, name-dropped Marlene — who you’d yet to meet, at that point — and a moment later, your brother-in-law’s voice floated through the headset.

“Hey, Liv.”

“You’re alive.”

Tommy chuckled. “Somethin’ like that. Guess you talked to Marlene, huh?”

“Joel did,” you answered. “I haven’t had the pleasure yet.”

“She’s a good person,” Tommy replied, and you stifled the urge to roll your eyes. “Lots of good people out here, too.”

“You know, I’ve never been to Minnesota,” you said, tapping your fingers against the radio table. “But I bet it’s not as nice as Boston.”

“Liv—”

“He wanted to apologize, Tommy,” you spat out, pressing your palm to your forehead. “When we got back from that run, the day before you left. He said he was gonna find you, and he was gonna fix it.”

The radio crackled with silence for a moment before, “Well, it’s a little late for that now, isn’t it?”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy. Can’t you just—”

“I’ll check in, when I can,” he said, ignoring you, cutting you off. “Let you know I’m alive, but I won’t…I won’t talk to Joel, all right? Not yet. I’ll leave messages with Abe, if I can’t get ahold of you, but I just…I don’t wanna talk to Joel. Okay?”

His tone told you there was no negotiating. Defeated, you leaned back in the chair, tugging on the headset cord. “Okay.”

Tommy’s refusal to speak to his brother didn’t exactly help Joel’s mood. In fact, he nearly put his boot through the fucking wall, reached for one of the stashed bottles of whiskey. When you tried to talk about it, all you got was, “Well, I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk to him either.”

Weeks passed, and neither of them would relent. You begged Tommy on multiple occasions, tried to talk Joel into coming with you to Abe’s, but they’re both stubborn asses. Joel even tried to use the same tactic he had before Tommy left Boston — literally fucking you into submission — but you didn’t let him get as far this time. In fact, you threatened to hold out on him completely.

Easier said than done, especially when he had his face in your throat, nipping that spot under your jaw that turned you into putty. “I know all your little places, Liv,” he mumbled into your skin, and you groaned. “I know you what gets you goin’. Always have.”

“So help me, Joel, I will go stay with Tess,” you threw back, and he’d pulled back almost instantly, something between shock and fear in his eyes. Something prickled in your chest, but you pushed past it. “You can’t bury your problems, baby. No matter how good it feels.”

He stared at you for a long moment, eyes searching yours, his lips softly parted. He swallowed so thickly you saw his throat bob, and then he leaned down slow, the tip of his nose just brushing yours. It was a soft kiss, softer than you were expecting, one hand adjusting to cup the back of your head. It wasn’t hungry, but gentle. An I love you pressed against your mouth.

“Tomorrow,” Joel murmured. “I’ll go with you. I’ll talk to him. I’ll try.” Something flashed in his eyes, that streak of Miller stubbornness returning. “But if he won’t talk to me, there’s nothin’ I can do.”

And those fuckers talked for hours.

There was a smug sense of accomplishment that came with watching Joel sitting at that tiny table, the headset pushing his hair in every direction, hunched over the microphone. You busied yourself with your notebook, half listening to their conversation. Joel grabbed you when you wandered close, hauled you into his lap as he said goodbye to his brother.

Once the radio was quiet, he yanked the headset off, dove his hand into your hair, and pulled your mouth down to his. You squeaked in surprise, letting your arms drape around his neck, one hand sneaking down the back of his collar. His palm cupped your jaw, kissing you soundly, and when he pulled back after a moment, his eyes were shining.

“Thank you.”

It’s continued, ever since you got them both to pull their heads out of their asses. Joel still has his days where he’s more mad at Tommy for leaving than anything else, occasions where he grumbles at you to just tell his brother he says hello when you tell him you’re heading for the radio. You make up excuses, tell Tommy that Joel’s working when he doesn’t come with you, and Tommy seems to believe it, for the most part. Your chats are scheduled, Tommy letting you know the next date and time he’ll check in before you say your goodbyes, and he’s stuck to every one since.

Neither you or Joel has asked what he’s doing in Minneapolis, why Marlene sent him, what the Fireflies have planned for Minnesota. You honestly don’t know if you want to know.

Visits to Lincoln have become a staple, and you’re grateful as hell. Twice a month, if you can manage it — most of the time, you visit even if the song that comes through on the radio is sixties (nothing new). You feel restless in the QZ, the imposing walls and the reminders of everything weighing on you more and more with every passing year.

You made a good call, with Frank. He’s exactly what you needed, exactly when you needed a friend like him.

A friend.

That’s what we are. Friends.

You sip your coffee as Frank gets up, heading towards the fridge. You’re perched on the kitchen counter, one boot swinging beneath you, cup resting on your leg. “I definitely told you we were married,” you say, lifting your brow as he opens the fridge, bending to fish something out.

“You definitely did not,” he replies, and as he straightens, your mouth drops open at the big bowl of strawberries in his hands. “I made good use of those seeds we traded for.”

You nearly fall over as he holds it towards you, letting you pick. The fruit is cold between your fingers, and when you sink your teeth into the strawberry, you feel like you could burst into tears. “Oh my god.”

“I know,” Frank replies, and sits back down at the small kitchen table, the strawberries between you. “Eat as many as you like; they’re growing like weeds out back.” His hand smacks against the table. “But I am telling you, Olivia, you never told me you and Joel were married!”

You nearly choke on the berry, wiping juice from the corner of your mouth with your thumb as you swallow it down. “Don’t you full name me,” you say with a laugh, knowing he’s joking. “Not like it was a real wedding or anything. We nearly died.”

Frank balks. “Pardon? No, you definitely never told me this.”

Reaching for another strawberry, you recount the story. Joel proposing, the FEDRA office, the car bombs, the Fireflies. How shaken you were. You can see the understanding on Frank’s face; you’ve told him about your time in Boston before Joel too, what happened on Outbreak Day, the days and weeks and months that followed.

You can feel your voice quaking slightly as you finish the tale, and Frank scoots his chair closer, reaching out and putting a hand on your leg. “I’m sorry, Liv.”

“Don’t be,” you say, staring down into your coffee cup, shaking your head. “We’re both alive.”

“But you never got the dress?” Frank asks, and you try to ignore the pang in your chest. “The first dance?”

“I have the ring,” you say, like it’s a consolation. “I’ve been trying to find one for Joel for forever, but how fucking morbid is that? Wearing some dead guy’s wedding ring? And Joel said the same thing, when he proposed, that it wasn’t the same, no big white dress, and I told him I didn’t care. I don’t care. If things were normal, I would have dragged his ass to Vegas the first chance I got. But…in retrospect, it just would have been nice to have my family there, say vows, something like that. Instead of some FEDRA thug telling me to sign on the dotted line.”

“I get it,” Frank says, squeezing your leg. “It’s okay, you know, to wish it was different. I think we try to push that away, to just accept the world like it is now, but it’s okay to miss the way things were. Tears have crawled up the back of your throat, and there’s a noise from outside, Bill calling Frank’s name. There’s no panic in it, and Frank leans to glance out the window. “I’ll be right back. Have some more coffee.”

You refill your cup, steal another few strawberries. You give it a few minutes, and when Frank doesn’t come back, you slide off the counter, coffee in hand, and wander the house. You’ve seen it a bunch of times, at this point. Frank even tried to teach you piano, and you both laughed until your sides hurt at how awful you were at it.

Your boots seem to move of their own accord, walking down the main hall towards the front door. The walls are lined with picture frames, a few on the tables near the foyer, and your eyes drag over each photo. There are lots of old photos, people you assume to be Bill’s family. Some look as old as the first World War, and you pick up one frame, confirming your suspicions when you see the back of the frame reads 1917.

A photo in the middle of the wall catches your eye. A man and a woman, standing outside a church. They both have stoic smiles on their faces, and the man looks so strikingly similar to Bill that you realize it must be his parents. His mother wears a white dress, a veil in her hair, gloves with little pearls around the wrist. His father wears a dark suit, a carnation flower pinned to his lapel, his hair neatly combed. His mother holds a small bouquet of flowers in her hand, her arm slipped through her new husband’s.

You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat. Fuck, how different things could have been…

What if you had never left Austin? You would have had two whole years of normalcy with Joel, in theory. You could have gotten to know Sarah better, you could have—

You cut the thought off abruptly, but every what if it branches into makes your chest ache. What if you had moved in? What if you had gotten married? What if you’d had a baby, made Sarah a big sister? What if…

The sound of the front door makes you flinch, and you hiss as coffee spills over the edge of your mug, hot liquid on your hand. “Fuck!”

“Oh, shit, hold on, baby,” Joel says, and disappears into the kitchen, reappearing at the other end of the hallway a moment later with a towel. He takes the cup from you, wiping the droplets from it before he’s reaching for your wrist, inspecting your hand. “You okay?”

You nod a little too enthusiastically, chewing at your lip. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, but hands you your coffee. “You about ready to go? Should start headin’ back soon.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

A month later, and the first eighties song plays over the radio. You recognize it instantly; Every Little Thing She Does is Magic. Joel grabs the book Frank had supplied, confirms it’s 1981, and your heart drops into your toes.

“Joel, we have to go,” you say, your heart leaping into your throat, instantly looking around the apartment. Where’s your bag, where’s your bat, where’s—

Someone knocks at the door, and you sigh with relief when you see Tess on the other side. “Oh, thank god. We have to go.”

She squints at you. “What?”

You throw your hand in the direction of the radio, still playing The Police. “Eighties. Trouble.”

“Fuck,” she grits, and you just nod.

The entire trip has you on edge. Every time you have to stop for a moment, or hear the warning scream of an Infected, your toes are curling in your boots, fingers tapping against the handle of the bat. You’re terrified to think what you might find in Lincoln.

Joel keeps close to your side, his hand resting at the top of your spine as you walk. “It’ll be okay, baby,” he tells you, and you want to believe him, you really do, but the world hasn’t given you much reason to hope for the best.

When you take that final turn and Lincoln comes into view, you hold your breath. Everything looks the same, nothing’s on fire, you don’t see anybody bleeding in the street. As you approach the gate, your stomach is in knots.

And then Frank appears at end of the sidewalk, beaming at you as you approach, and you’re officially confused. “You’re here!” he calls, arms spread wide as he reaches the gate, punches in the code, letting the three of you inside. Tess closes the gate behind her once you’re all through, and just as you’re about to ask what the fuck is going on, Joel grabs your face, giving you a soft kiss before he’s disappearing, following Tess in the direction of the wine shop.

Frank gives you an innocent smile. “Do you trust me?”

“I did,” you say, your heart still stuttering as he puts his arm around your shoulders and starts to lead you away from the gate. “You played eighties! I thought something awful happened, you fuck!”

He laughs. “A cruel trick, I know,” he says, clucking his tongue. “But it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

“What are you—”

“Close your eyes.”

“Wha—”

“Just do it, Liv.”

With a heavy sigh, you just shake your head, lifting your hands and covering your eyes with them. “Joel and Tess are in on this too?”

“They are,” Frank answers, both hands gripping your shoulders, steering you in the direction he wants you to go. “It’s a good surprise, I swear to you. Just trust me.”

“You ever play eighties again, Frank, I will keep my ass in Boston.”

“Sure, you will.”

You huff, half-heartedly angry, but let him continue to lead you. You’re instantly turned around, no idea where Frank is leading you, and it’s not until you come to a stop and he releases you, tells you to open your eyes, and you see you’re standing in front of the clothing boutique.

“Inside!” Frank declares, yanking open the door. “Let’s go!”

He pulls the door shut as soon as you’re inside, the tinkling bells overhead ringing and echoing through the shop. You slide your hands into the back pockets of your jeans, looking around. “You really not gonna tell me what’s going on?” you ask as Frank brushes past you, heading towards the back of the boutique.

“Where’s the fun in that? C’mon!”

You’re less and less annoyed with every step. Frank tends to have that effect, and even though you’re still reeling from every awful thought you’d had on the trek from Boston to Lincoln, the smile he gives you as he comes to a stop in front of one of the mirrors at the back earns your forgiveness. There’s something in front of the mirror, what you assume to be a mannequin, draped with a dark sheet.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this,” he says, letting his hand skim over the fabric, “but my mother was a seamstress. She taught me a thing or two, and it’s surprisingly come in handy now, fixing Bill’s favourite shirts and what have you.” Your brow pinches with confusion, but Frank keeps talking. “And I know you’re mad, that we rang the alarm when there wasn’t a need, but I mean it, you just have to trust me, and this will be amazing.”

With a flourish, he pulls the sheet away, and your jaw drops.

It’s a dress. A white dress, made of silky-looking material. Floor-length, short sleeves, and flowers embroidered into the fabric everywhere you look. Pearly buttons line the side, and you can see it’s more like a satin slip underneath with the more filmy overlay that’s embroidered.

It’s a dress.

A wedding dress.

You clap your hand over your mouth, tears instantly filling your eyes. Is this…? What…?

“Joel?” is all you manage to squeak out, and Frank just nods.

“It was mostly his idea,” Frank admits with a shrug. You take a step closer to the dress, almost scared to touch it, worried there’s dirt or something on your hands that will stain the fabric. “When you were here about a month ago, he brought it up to Bill. He agreed, and I helped with the finer details.”

“Details?”

“The dress,” he says, jutting his chin towards the mannequin, “and a few other things. This is only the first part, Liv.”

The tears are in full force now, and Frank makes a little noise, coming to stand beside you, putting his arm around your shoulders. You drop your head against his shoulder and he lays his on top of yours. “You made this?” you ask, your voice quiet, swiping at the tears under your lashes before pointing to the dress. It’s literally so beautiful you could cry. You are crying.

“Hah, not exactly,” Frank replies, rubbing your shoulder. “I found it in the back of the shop. If I tried to make it myself, it’d probably end up looking more like Frankenstein’s monster than a wedding dress. But, put it on, we’ll see how it fits, and if you need any alterations, I’m your man.”

You feel like you’re in a dream, as he carefully pulls the dress off the mannequin. You take it with careful hands, heading for one of the dressing rooms and closing the door behind you. Laying the dress gently on the bench inside, you toe off your boots, shimmy out of your jeans, unbutton your shirt. Then you pause, frozen in place, staring at the dress.

It’s been more than a few minutes, you realize after a moment, and Frank calls your name. “You okay? Need any help?”

“I’m good,” you call back. In truth, you’re staring at yourself in the mirror. More specifically, the scar on your side. The bite. Frank calls your name again, and you cover it with your hand, pulse thumping through the mark. “I just need a sec.”

“Okay,” he replies, clearly unconvinced, but then the thought crosses your mind that if he tries to help, he’ll see the scar, and everything they’ve planned will go to shit.

Clearing your throat, you reach for the dress.

It fits like a fucking glove.

Almost sheepishly, you step out of the dressing room, and Frank gasps when you do, a giddy laugh reaching your ears as you feel them go hot. “Liv, you look beautiful.” He reaches for your hand. “I mean, you are beautiful, but oh, it’s perfect.” Before you can say anything, he all but pushes you back into the dressing room. “Change back, we have to go back to the house to get you ready.”

An hour later, and you’re standing in the spare bedroom of the house. The dress is laid out on the bed, your hair is freshly washed, and you feel so clean you almost want a nap. Frank had left some lavender-scented soap in the shower, and you can’t stop smelling your skin.

A knock at the door almost makes you flinch, and you call that it’s open. Tess steps through a moment later, and your breath catches at her dark red dress, her hair tucked behind her ear, a flower pinned with it. You both just start to giggle as she walks over to where you’re standing in front of the mirror. She stops behind you, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders, and you cover one with your own.

“Are you mad?”

“Mad?” you scoff, still laughing. “I should be, but I’m not.” You chew at your lip. “We’re having a wedding?”

She meets your eyes in the mirror, leaning her head against yours. “You’re having a wedding.”

It feels almost like you expect it would have, if the outbreak had never happened. Getting ready, laughing with one of your best friends. There’s no curling iron, but Tess puts little braids in your hair, flowers like the one behind her ear forming a crown on top of your hair. She gives you a tube of mascara and a lipstick, jokes with you that they’re probably well expired, but they’ll do the trick. “What’s life without a little risk?”

Frank appears at some point — looking well-put together in a dress shirt and jacket, his hair neatly combed — and offers you a little bouquet of daisies from the garden. Tess jokes that you should carry the bat instead, and you all laugh.

And then you’re ready.

“We’ll be waiting out back,” Frank says, and both he and Tess peck your cheeks before they’re gone.

It’s time.

You give yourself a few minutes, wait until you can’t hear your friends’ voices anymore, until it’s just you in the house. You go to walk out of the bedroom, you really do, but you find you can’t do it. You sink onto the edge of the bed, curling your hands into the fabric of the bedspread, forcing yourself not to cry.

It almost feels like you thought it would have, but there’s a glaring difference.

You only ever let yourself imagine this once, with Joel. After you left Austin, when you were back visiting for the Fourth of July. You let yourself think about what would happen, if you never went back to Boston. You let your fantasies run a little wild.

Anna would have been your maid of honour, Sarah would have been the flower girl. Your mother would have cried and your dad would have walked you down the aisle. You would have said your vows in the same church your grandparents had been married in.

You don’t know what’s waiting for you outside, and you have no doubt it’s wonderful and beautiful and far more than you deserve.

But…Anna. Sarah. Your parents.

You hear the door creak open downstairs, hear someone’s feet on the stairs. You’re expecting Frank, maybe even Joel.

You’re not expecting Bill. Same as Frank, he’s combed his hair, tucked it behind his ears, and while he doesn’t have a jacket, his button-up is tucked into his pants. “Olivia?”

He’s the only one who’s exclusively called you by your full name since…well, since your dad. With him, it was either honey or Olivia, no in-between. And while you’re pretty sure Bill didn’t say your name once on your first visit to Lincoln, he’s greeted you with a curt mumble of your name each time since.

“I’m coming,” you say, starting to get up, fanning your wet eyes. “I just needed a second.”

Bill pauses in the doorway, staring at you. “It’s okay, you know, if you need another one.”

You sink back down, feeling your chest go tight. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Bill tells you, and slowly, he steps into the room, walking towards the bed and sinking down beside you. “Today is about you, after all.”

You swipe at your cheek. “I’m surprised you agreed to this,” you say, and Bill lets out a little chuckle. “Not the best resource management.”

“Y’know, you say something to Frank once and he never lets you forget it,” he grumbles, shaking his head, but there’s a rare smile on his face. “It was Joel’s idea, I’m sure Frank told you.” You nod. “And I…I’ve had a soft spot for you, Olivia, since you two first showed up here. And it took me a while, but I realized, it’s because you remind me of Frank, in a way. You’re both…” He squints, waving his hand in the air.

“Feisty?”

“Feisty,” he agrees, “and headstrong, and loyal. And while I might not like him very much, I know Joel’s done right by you. He’s a good man, and he loves you, so when he asked for my help with this, I said yes.”

Your breath shakes a little as you sigh, leaning over until your head is resting on Bill’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“You haven’t even seen it yet.”

“I know, but I’m still grateful. I never could have imagined…” You trail off, feeling the tears crawling back up again, and Bill puts his arm around your shoulders slowly. “I just, I always thought that when I got married, my family would be there, that my dad would walk me down the aisle, and I just…” You shake your head, holding your breath and trying to force the tears down.

“I know it’s not much of a consolation,” Bill says quietly, and slowly gets up, offering you his hand, “but I’d be honoured to walk you down.”

It’s not what Joel had envisioned, when the idea had first come to him. At this point, he can’t even quite remember what he had pictured, because whatever it was, the end result is better.

It’s late in the day. You’d left Boston late morning, arrived mid-afternoon, and while Tess had hurried Joel through a shower and getting dressed, leading him the back way out of the house while you came in the front, everyone careful not to let you see each other, the sun is starting to set. But it’s perfect, golden light covering the grass, sunbeams filtering through the trees. He can hear birds, and as he stands there, fidgeting with his hands clasped in front of him, he’s struck by how truly grateful he is, how he never could have imagined any of this.

Whatever thoughts had once crossed his mind, this is better.

He had the idea the last time you were in Lincoln. Bill had called Frank outside to ask something about their stockpile in the bunker, which Frank had rolled his eyes at, and Joel had expected you to follow Frank out, but when you didn’t, he asked.

“She’s inside, enjoying her coffee,” Frank had replied with a little smile, waving his hand toward the house. “There’s extra; I’ll send you two back with a thermos full.”

Joel had waited for Bill’s protest, but it never came, and Joel just grumbled his thanks.

“Liv was just telling me about your wedding day,” Frank said, and Joel’s ears perked up. “Leave it to FEDRA to make something beautiful so impersonal.”

“Yeah,” Joel agreed, staring down at his boots. “It’s not the day I woulda given her, if I had the chance.”

And there it was, the first spark of something. He couldn’t give you the wedding you’d probably dreamed of as a little girl, but maybe he could give you something else.

“Say, could I ask y’all a favour?”

Frank was overjoyed at the thought, and Joel again waited for Bill’s protest, but again it never came. Frank promised to look after the details, Bill agreed to build something in the backyard to hold the ceremony, and the plan was hatched.

Joel had felt guilty when the radio started playing. The song had been his idea, and he’d done his best to feign surprise when the song came on. You were too busy worrying to really notice, thankfully, and he knows he’s sure to get an earful at some point or another.

It’s small, obviously, but it’s perfect. Between two tall oaks in the backyard of the main house, Bill constructed a wooden archway, a lattice pattern filling the gaps, and long vines of ivy twisted through. It’s painted white, matched to the few chairs set in front. There are flowers in matching vases either side of the arch, and there are stones that line the path from the house up to the arch, a makeshift aisle.

Tess stands in the middle of the archway, a few pieces of paper in her hands. She looks great, Joel’s told her as much, and she just laughed and thanked him and said, “Just wait til’ you see her.” Frank sits in one of the chairs, one beside him for Bill, another two set on the other side, one for Tess. He’d asked her if she wanted to bring Robin along, but her reluctance to involve her girlfriend in the more dangerous parts of your lives overshadowed her want to have her there.

Joel sees the back door of the house swing open, and Bill steps out first. He extends his hand back inside, and you reach out to take it, lifting the skirt of your dress as you take the two steps down onto the grass. Joel can’t help but chuckle when he sees you’re barefoot, but then his eyes move up your pretty white dress, the flowers in your hair, the giddy smile on your face, and he thinks he might topple over on the spot. He tugs at his tie — yeah, he’s wearing a fucking tie — and Tess must catch his slight sniffle as tears spring in his eyes, because she nudges his arm. “Told ya.”

Frank reaches beneath his chair, producing a small radio with a cassette player. You turn towards them all fully, and Joel can see the shock in your face just as Frank hits play. Bill offers you his arm just as the first chords start to play, and you’re smiling so big it makes Joel’s face ache just looking at you. He wants to kiss that grin, has to stop himself from running full tilt at you and doing it right then and there.

He sees the recognition in your face as you start to walk towards him, your hand tucked into the crook of Bill’s elbow.

If the sun refused to shine, I would still be lovin’ you.

Led Zeppelin. The same tape you once bought him for his truck back in Austin, the same one you played the night the two of you became the two of you once more.

When the mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.

He can’t take his eyes off you, as you get closer and closer. He’s committing every inch of you to memory, for the millionth time. He’s torn between wanting to rip that dress right off of you and wanting to keep you in it for the rest of your life. He’s so fucking in love with you, he can’t believe he has you, that he found you after so many years, that he’s managed to keep you still.

You reach the end of the aisle, maybe three feet from him, and Bill stops you, turns you toward him. He leans in and pecks your cheek, and then turns to Joel, shakes his hand. Joel takes a step forward and Bill places your hand in Joel’s, giving him a nod.

Kind a woman, I give you my all, kind a woman, nothin’ more.

You arrange yourselves in front of the arch, and you turn to hand your little bouquet of daisies to Frank before taking both of Joel’s hands, squeezing your warm fingers around his. “Holy shit.”

Everybody laughs, the song fades out, and Tess clears her throat.

“Well, this is about as close as we can get to traditional, I guess. It’s fitting, I think.”

Joel’s listening, he swears he is. He can hear every word Tess says, every chuckle from Frank and even Bill, every hitch in your breathing. He can hear the birds in the trees and the thump of his own heart. But he’s focused on you, the little twitch of your hands in his, the way you’re smiling at him.

God, he wishes Sarah were here. Her memory still carries a slice of pain — he knows it always will — and though it aches, all he can think of is how well the two of you would have got on. He can still remember your first accidental meeting so clearly, and the times that followed. His daughter was too smart not to see through your “I’m a good friend of your dad’s” introduction, and even after you left for Boston, she had asked after you more than once.

“I like her,” she’d said once, casually, over breakfast, like they were discussing the weather. “She makes you all…shiny.”

“Shiny?”

“Yeah,” she’d continued, poking at her eggs. “All bright and stuff. It’s a good thing.”

“Whatever you say, kiddo.”

And somehow, here you are again, making him feel all bright and shiny, even after the world ends.

“Joel?” Tess prompts, and Joel snaps out of his memory, Tess handing him a piece of paper. “You wanna go first?”

“Oh,” he grumbles, taking the paper from her, reluctantly letting go of your hands so he can see the words he’s written on the page. “Yeah.”

Your brow furrows slightly as he clears his throat, your jaw dropping slightly. “You jackass, you wrote something?”

Joel feels his cheeks go hot. “I did.”

You’re shaking your head, but you’re beaming. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

“Luckiest man on earth,” he agrees. Then he remembers the paper in his hands. “Now, let me read it to you.”

“Okay,” you say softly, your voice laced with your smile. “I’m listening.”

Ten years ago, on this exact day, I walked into a hardware store. I was just lookin’ for a drill bit, stopped in on my way to a job on the other side of Austin. Never in a million years did I think I’d walk down the paint aisle and find you standing there, the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, smilin’ at me like I’d won the damn lottery.

Didn’t know back then that I’d fall in love with you so hard. Didn’t know you’d break my heart and mend it all in one shot, that I’d lose you before I really had the chance to love you properly. Then I lost everything, we all did, and I just…

It wasn’t easy. It’s still not easy. I was a jackass, when I first found you again, and I know I haven’t been perfect since, but, goddamnit, Liv, I’ll never love another woman the way I’ve loved you. Not in a million years. Not until my heart stops beatin’, and maybe even after that.

I’m a lucky son of a bitch, being able to love you the way I do. Luckier still that you agreed to marry me. I know I’m not the easiest sometimes, I know none of this is, but I swear to always love you, protect you, with everything I have left. Forever.

You’ve been crying since you saw him standing beneath the arch. You’d given up on wiping the tears when Tess started talking, and then when Joel pulled out his vows, it was even worse, but you didn’t care.

He folds up the piece of paper, stuffs it in his pocket, and you have to hold back from launching yourself at him. Joel takes your hands again, rubbing his thumbs across your knuckles, and you take a deep breath. “So that’s why you played eighties,” you say, shooting Frank a look. He’s crying too. “Ten years ago, today?”

Joel nods, lifts your hands to his lips, dots kisses across your fingers. “To the day.”

You take another deep breath. “Well, I would have written something, if I’d known, but all I really want to say right now is that I love you, Joel Miller. You’re right, it’s not easy, but standing by your side, it makes it easier, makes it worth it. I’m the lucky one, to have found you even after all of this, and no matter what comes our way, I got you, baby. Forever.”

It’s a sweet kiss. It’s an I love you brushed across his mouth. It’s hands in his hair and your body pressed against his. He tries his best not to mess with the fabric of your dress too much, the material soft as anything against his palms. Faintly, he can hear Tess and Bill and Frank cheering, somebody whistling, and the birds are still singing.

It’s perfect.

PREV | NEXT

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of uis #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

247 notes · View notes

jerzwriter · 3 months

Text

Thank you for this ask @lilyoffandoms! I've been missing our girls! When I saw the prompt, "You're so excited all the time... it's kind of adorable." I knew exactly where this was going to go! I hope you like it! From this list.

Book: Open Heart Characters: Merida (MC), Casey (F!MC), and Olivia (F!OC) Merida belongs to @lilyoffandoms, Olivia belongs to @storyofmychoices Words: 522 Rating: General Summary: Merida, Casey & Olivia spend the day at an amusement park, and one of them is quite amusing. A/N: Participating in @choicesfebruary2024 - Philia

“Come on!” Olivia pled as she walked... no... skipped several yards in front of her friends. “Come on, guys! We have to go on The Great Chace before we leave!”

Merida and Casey didn’t pick up their pace. Eyeing each other as they sauntered through the amusement park, Casey nibbled on her ice cream cone, Merida a bright pink cotton candy. It’s not that they didn’t want to join Olivia, but they were ride-ed out. Commandeering Ethan’s car for a girl’s day at Six Flags was just what they needed, but two dozen rides later, the only ride Olivia’s friends were looking forward to was the ride home.

Still, they could be persuaded. After all, there was magic in the warm summer air as the dusk began to fall, and their surroundings began to twinkle with bright, colored lights. The only thing that could rival them was their friend’s beaming face, looking much more like a child on Christmas morning than the accomplished doctor she was. Casey popped the last bit of her cone into her mouth and turned to Merida with a shrug.

“What’s one more ride?”

Merida nodded in agreement, and they let Olivia lead the way. But Casey couldn’t contain her laughter when they arrived.

“This... this is The Great Chase?”

“Yes,” Olivia clapped her hands with excitement. “I can’t wait to go on! The line’s short; maybe we can even go on twice! The car only holds two; this way, I can ride once with each of you! What do think, do you think we could....”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Olivia,” Merida said, placing a stabilizing hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Take it easy there, love. I think we let you have too much sugar today.”

“Olivia,” Casey deadpanned. “You know this is a kiddie rollercoaster, right?”

“Well, sure. But adults are still allowed to ride it! You see!” She pointed to the racing coaster as it moved around the track. “Lots of adults are riding!”

“Yeah,” Merida shrugged. “But let’s ignore the glaring fact that they’re all riding with their children...”

“Oh, come on!” Olivia playfully pouted, rocking on the balls of her feet. “Please! Please! Please! Pleeeeeeaaassse!”

Casey smirked at Merida. “You’re right. Definitely too much sugar.”

“You’re probably right,” Olivia agreed. “But I’m just so excited!”

“Of course you are,” Merida chuckled. “You’re excited all the time... it’s kind of adorable.”

“You think I’m adorable?” Olivia blushed.

“Liv,” Casey injected. “The only person who wouldn’t find you adorable would be someone without a pulse. Now, let’s go on this kiddie coaster... you know I can’t say no to you.”

Olivia took off ahead of her friends in the queue, and Casey shook her head. “Could you imagine if they guys were here watching us go on the kiddie coaster? We’d never hear the end of it.”

“Oh, they’d be total jackasses,” Merida laughed. “But, they’re our jackasses.”

But their conversation was cut short.

“GUYS!!!!” Olivia squealed, already sitting in the front car. “Whose going to ride with me first?”

“Merida is!” Casey yelled as her friend shot her a look.

“Just for this, you’re driving home!”

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#choices fanfic #open heart #open heart choices #choices open heart #open heart fanfic #choices stories you play #open heart original characters #open heart main characters #playchoices #playchoices fanfic

32 notes · View notes

mikeysw1fey · 10 months

Text

swamp tour

pairing: mikey madison x female reader

warning: none just fluff

“You look excited.”

Mikey turns from the mirror in our bathroom, a wide smile adorning her face as she nods. “I am. I’m excited to see my friends. Now get in the car before we’re late.” She gently pushes me out the bathroom and towards the garage, her small frame surprisingly strong. I stumble forwards, tripping on her bag causing Mikey to laugh, “Shut up,” I retort turning to glare at my girlfriend who sticks her tongue out.

…..

“I wanna swim with the alligators.” I grin, keeping one hand on the wheel of the car whilst the other moves over to encase Mikey’s own hand. “I don’t feel like being single again so I’m gonna have to argue with you on that.” Her eyes fall onto mine as she adjusts her hair.

“Baby you know you look perfect, I honestly don’t think those alligators are going to try and hit on you.” I smile, her cheeks reddening slightly at my compliment. “I mean they might after they’ve eaten you for dinner, your ‘adore Mikey’ persona might waft into their brains.” Mikey laughs earning a scoff from me.

…..

“Just so you know Austin’s filming a youtube video, so we will be on the internet.” Mikey shrugs. My forehead wrinkles slightly, “You ok with that?” Mikey nods reassuringly, squeezing my hand. “It’ll be alright, I’ll be with you and Harley and Liv and Anthony.” I hum in agreement as we pull into the swamp tour car park.

…..

“They said meet at the check in.” Mikey reads her phone wandering off causing me to run after her. “I prefer not to be left behind.” Taking her hand, I let her lead me towards the check in where Austin was already filming the wristbands he had gotten each of us.

“Hey.” Mikey and I begin in sync, the small group whipping around to welcome us with hugs and conversation.

“We have to go sit under the pavilion, and wait for further instructions.” Harley explains, excitement just wafting off her. The group follow her and Mikey as they engage in conversation at the front leaving me with Austin who films the two of us.

“So you and Mikey have been together for what like a year now?” He asks patting my shoulder. I raise an eyebrow, “Uh I would like to say a year and two months but I can’t really remember. Tell Mikey that and I’ll kill you.” I whisper narrowing my eyes playfully. Austin bursts into laughter. “Mikey’s girlfriend everyone oh my days.” I pose ironically for the camera before scoffing at the second hand embarrassment I had just given myself.

…..

“So we sit here while they group us and then we go on the tour.” Austin explains to his camera as the rest of us sit on the benches waiting for further instructions. “Mikey,” My words fall on deaf ears as she rustles through her bag. “Babe.” At that the black haired woman’s head snaps up. “Yeah?” She asks softly, face slightly concerned. “I have your sunglasses,” I chuckle pulling them from my own bag and handing them to her. She sighs gratefully putting them on and leaning forward to place a quick kiss on my cheek. “I was looking for those thank you.”

“You need to stop putting your shit in my bag because you never get it out.” I tease wrapping my arm around her shoulders as Austin pulls out his vlog camera again. Mikey looks away instantly and both Austin and I laugh. “Mikey’s like I hate you so much.” Austin zooms in on Mikey who turns her head towards the back of the room waiting for him to finish. His camera goes away soon after, and Mikey’s head comes back around to face us.

…..

“Ayyy let’s go.” Anthony grins as we get called up to go. “Al-li-ga-tors, Al-li-ga-tors, Al-li-ga-tors.” Olivia, Anthony, Harley and I all chant quietly, both Mikey and Austin watching us with a raised eyebrow. Catching Mikey staring I stick out my tongue, her lips pulling up into a smile as she shakes her head at my childlike behaviour.

“Come on or we’ll miss the boat.” Austin rushes us down the stairs of the deck and towards a swampy bush looking path. “This is sick.” I marvel at the trees, the gentle breeze sending a few leaves falling on top of us. “You have a leaf in your hair.” Mikey laughs gently pulling a leaf from the back of my head. “Wow. Thanks baby.” I chuckle intertwining our hands as we head towards the boat I’m assuming we get onto.

As soon as we arrive on the boat the boat instructor begins talking and I have to place a hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing as he has both a lisp and deep southern accent that I just did not expect. Mikey slaps my shoulder with a glare. “Don’t be rude.” I nod and sit beside her and the railing. “This is sick.” I scoff in awe of the swamp.

…..

“Oh shit look an alligator.” Austin and Anthony both gasp together pointing out into the water. I glance over into the water and my eyebrows raise at the massive reptile gliding through the swamp. “Fuck they are massive.” I shiver slightly at the sight of their huge teeth. “If you think they are big wait until you see a crocodile.” Anthony teases and I throw the finger at him earning another slap from Mikey.

“Come here.” Austin coos at the alligators as they swim towards the boat, Mikey chuckles watching intently as the instructor then sticks food on a rod for them to jump and catch. “Nah fuck that I’m ready to go home.” I scoff watching the reptiles leap into the air. Mikey smirks at me. “You scared baby?” She asks taking my hand in hers. I raise an eyebrow. “Pfft me? Scared? Never.” I wave her away and turn back to the alligators. “So you are gonna go swim with them then?” She asks referring to our conversation in the car.

I stammer slightly, everyone’s eyes on me waiting to tease me no matter what I answer with. “I reckon they will be too scared of me you know, cause I’m dating the ghost face. So like…” I trail off as Harley raises and eyebrow and Austin begins cackling. “Man I wish I recorded that.” I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile that tugs my lips up as Mikey subtly reaches to grab my hand, her thumb rubbing the back of my palm ever so gently.

…..

“Mikey? Baby? Gorgeous? My love?” I blink rapidly and put on a large smile. Mikey’s eyes narrow. “What do you want?” I grin even wider as she sighs.

“It’s sooo hot out here.” I complain eyeing her sunglasses. “You are not getting my sunglasses.” She laughs and I groan slouching in my seat. “But you can have my hat I guess.” She gives in removing her red cap and shoving it into my hands. “Oh I love you so much.” I gush quickly placing it on my burning scalp before leaning in to give her a peck on the cheek. “Mikey is so down bad.” Austin laughs. Mikey raises an eyebrow. “Like you aren’t.” She gestures to Harley who stares at Austin with a daring look on her face. Austin gulps. “Your just like me.” He fixes his mistake before turning back to the swamp.

Five minutes later and the instructor is flying the boat down the swamp, the breeze rushes past my face making me wish I had sunglasses on so my eyes wouldn’t burn. Turning my head to face Mikey and the rest of the group who all seem to be facing the other way except Mikey who is luckily wearing sunglasses. “You look so cute right now.” I whisper placing my hand on her thigh over her bike shorts. I watch as her face goes red, her hand reaching up to my face to pull me in for a quick kiss.

Our lips touch and I instantly melt as if kissing her for the first time again. But she pulls away before anything else can continue, the quiet aw of Olivia making her blush. My hand moves back to her thigh squeezing it gently as the boat moves to the dock once again.

…..

“Anthony how long would you say that was?” I can hear Austin vlogging with Anthony behind the rest of us as we all travel off the boat and back towards the building.

“We have to wait for a bus now right?” Harley asks glancing towards Austin who nods. I wait for Anthony who trails the back moving to talk to him as the rest go sit down on the benches to wait. “Wait Anthony, can we go get an ice cream?” I ask gesturing towards the ice cream shop. He shrugs before nodding as we leave the group and head inside.

…..

“Um one cookies and cream and one mint please.” I quickly pay and walk outside to meet Anthony who licks his own peanut butter ice cream. “Two?” He raises an eyebrow and laughs. “I should’ve gotten two.” I scoff and laugh along with him.

“No, one’s for Mikey. I bet she’s hungry after that.” I smile to which he aws making me want to slap him if I had free hands.

“Hey babe, here you go.”I grin heading to my girlfriend who smiles gratefully, taking off her sunglasses and handing them to me to put in my own bag. “Where’s my ice cream?” Olivia pouts and I chuckle. “Sorry babe but this one gave me her hat.” I gesture to Mikey before I sigh as if in debt when Mikey smacks me lightly, her soft voice butting in. “And maybe the fact I’m your girlfriend.” She sighs rolling her eyes at me making Olivia laugh. “Yes that too.” I bend down to kiss her cheek as she sits on the bench.

“What would you guys rate the swamp tour?” Austin asks, his camera pointed to all five of us. “Ten out of ten.” We all reply and Austin nods.

“I agree.” He nods turning the camera back around to talk to his fans.

…..

“Do you wanna sit on my lap?” I ask my girlfriend who frowns, confused at my question. “I really wanna sit but there’s no more room on the bench.” I sigh before shaking my head. “It’s ok though the bus will be here soon.” I continue before Mikey stands up and tugs me down onto the bench before placing herself on top of my legs.

A few minutes later the bus arrives and we all trudge in. Mikey sits beside me next to the window whilst the others find themselves opposite us leaving us a little bit of privacy. “You tired?” I ask her. She shrugs, her hand moving to hold my own as she plays with my fingers, a tell tale sign of her exhaustion.

“The bus is like an hour long ride, you can sleep baby.” I kiss her cheek. Mikey smiles up at me before resting her head on my shoulder ignoring the laughs and conversations from everyone else on the bus.

“I’ll wake you when we get back.” I whisper kissing the top of her head as she slowly drifts off to sleep.

#wlw post #lesbian #scream #mikey x female reader #mikey madison #cute #i love mikey so much guys stop

67 notes · View notes

vanfleeter · 1 year

Text

Dirty Dishes // JMK

Pairing: Josh x (f) reader Warnings: Pure fluff, slight swearing. Summary: Being roommates with Josh brings on fun nights and this just happens to be one of them. Author's Note: This fic is actually one I wrote a long time ago when i wrote fics for Criminal Minds (which I don't anymore) so I'm stealing all of the good ones that I have and am changing them around for the boys.

“Thanks for the ride Liv.” You say as you step in front of your apartment door. The apartment you shared with Josh Kiszka.

“Yeah no problem. Hope they fix your car soon.”

“So do I… I can’t stand having to get up at seven every morning when Josh has to be at the studio..”

“Glad I’m not his roommate.” Liv says with a little snicker. “I wish you the best.”

“See ya tomorrow.” You say as you unlock the apartment door.

“Aha!” You hear Josh exclaim from the kitchen. “I knew it!”

“Knew what?” You call as you hang up your coat in the closet.

“I knew the toilet brush was under the sink!”

“Spring cleaning isn’t for another month.” You say leaning on the kitchen counter.

Which was true.

So when the time comes, Josh takes the first opportunity to get ahead on getting the apartment cleaned and organized. He made sure to keep you out of it. Josh wanted everything to be neat, not that you couldn’t be neat. But he had a place for everything.

“You know I take the first chance I can get to get this shit done. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a toilet to clean.” He says before turning on his heels and heading to the bathroom.

As Star Wars played on the tv, you could hear Josh blasting the water in the sink. “Dishes!” You hear him shout with laughter. “We meet again you dirty bastards.” You couldn’t help but break out into laughter.

“Josh, quick talking to the dishes! People might think you’re crazy.”

Josh turned away from the sink and leaned on the counter to look out at you in the living room. “The only people who can hear me is you, and I know you don’t think I’m crazy.”

“It’s debatable.” You say keeping your eyes glued to the tv. Suddenly you feel a rag hit the side of your head.

“I wash, you dry.” He says with a serious look on his face.

Groaning you pick up the rag and drag yourself to the kitchen. He hands you a wet dish for you to dry.

“Am I crazy now?”

“No, you’re acting like my mother.”

Josh flings soapy water at you.

“Oh now you’ve asked for it.” You say sinking your hands into the water and splashing some at him.

“I just washed these clothes!” Josh exclaimed.

“Aww well I washed ‘em, so you dry ‘em.” You smirk before running out of the kitchen.

“Get back here! I worked hard today and you ruined my clothes!”

“It’s not like you’re going anywhere.” You laugh from your bedroom door. You shut it just as Josh runs into it.

“Open this door!” Josh shouts from out in the hallway. “(Y/N)! This isn’t funny! Open the door!”

“I think it’s plenty funny.” You laugh from inside the bedroom. “Next time don’t splash water one me!”

“You didn’t have to do it back!”

You fling open the bedroom door. “And you didn’t have to do it first. So have fun washing those again.” You say before shutting the door again.

You hear Josh groan before muttering curse words under his breath and stomping off back to the kitchen. You waited a few minutes until you heard the water running in the sink. Slowly opening the door, you slip out into the hallway and check every room before going to the kitchen. You peer around the corner to see Josh posed in front of the sink holding the sink sprayer out in front of him.

“I knew you’d come out sooner or later.” He says smirking at you.

O fim

#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fanfic #fluff #roommates #danny wagner #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #josh kiszka fanfic #josh kiszka fic

82 notes · View notes

hollywoodxwhore · 1 year

Text

Mine | Chapter Ten

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: Smut (18+), alcohol and marijuana usage, swearing, discussions of virginity, vulnerability, grinding, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving)

Buckle up, y'all. The moment you've been waiting for: Presley loses her virginity to Colson. I appreciate all the feedback!

Presley

Olivia and I are backstage while the boys perform, and as much as we like watching them, we decided to sneak away to her dressing room for some quiet. She sips a beer and I take hits off my pen every so often. She seems so relaxed, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been so jittery in my life. I can’t believe I told Colson I was ready.

It’s not that I was being dishonest. I am ready. He could’ve taken me the first night and I would’ve been okay with it. But no matter how much I trust him, this is a big step for me. Actual penetration, to me, is the closest two humans can be. I want it to live up to the hype. I’m also scared of getting more attached than I already am.

I’ve zoned out for the fourth time during only one story of Olivia’s, and finally, she huffs at me, but her eyes are playful. “Pres,” she says. “Where the hell are you?”

I smile sheepishly. “Sorry,” I say, shaking my head to try to snap myself out of it.

She studies my face and I shift uncomfortably under her scrutiny. She narrows her eyes at me. “Hey, Pres?” she asks.

“Y-yeah?” I answer, my mouth feeling extremely dry. I reach for my water bottle and take a shaky sip.

“Can we stop pretending I don’t know about you and Colson?” Her tone is casual and calm, but it ignites a fire in me and I startle, eyes widening. Oh god. I’m nauseous. How does she know? Does this mean Cash knows? Holy fuck – “Cash doesn’t know,” she says, interrupting my thoughts. “In fact, he’s the most oblivious person I’ve ever met.”

“Oh thank god,” I breathe, slumping a little in relief. “Liv, you can’t tell him–”

“Relax, Pres,” she says, putting a perfectly manicured hand to my knee, “I won’t. It’s not my business.”

I bite my lip hard. “How do you know?”

She shrugs. “People act differently once they’ve fucked,” she says simply. “It becomes pretty obvious.”

I blink at her. “Colson and I haven’t…” She gives me a look and I shake my head. “Honestly! We’ve done other stuff, but we haven’t had sex. I’ve, um, I’ve never even…”

Olivia raises a brow. “Wait. You’re a virgin?” she asks. My cheeks redden but I nod. “No way,” she says, covering her mouth. “No offense, but it shocks me that Colson is pursuing you.”

I flinch a little. “He’s different than he seems, Liv,” I say quietly. “He…he asked me to be his girlfriend earlier today.”

Olivia is silent for a moment, and then she lets out an incredulous laugh. “I’ll be damned. Holy shit. It’s about time,” she says.

“For what?” I ask, brow furrowing.

“For Colson to stop moping over Megan and find someone actually good for him,” she says. “I mean, I see the way he looks at you, but I didn’t think he was ready to try romance again.”

I shrug, and I can’t help the little smile that crosses my face. “Yeah. He’s…he’s so sweet, Liv,” I tell her, and she softens, smiling. “He’s so gentle and patient and he just gets me, you know?”

“I do know,” she says, eyes sparkling, and I smile when I realize she’s talking about Cash. And then, anger flares inside me.

“Do you know that Cash has been telling Colson not to pursue anything with me?” I ask.

Olivia shakes her head quickly as if to clear away the disbelief. “Wait, what?!”

“Yeah,” I say sharply. “He’s told Colson several times now not to try anything with me.”

Olivia snorts. “Well, Cash is a dumbass then, seeing as he’s made you room with Kells so many times,” she says.

“Exactly!” I say. “Although, I guess you did say he’s oblivious.”

“Blinded by his own relationship,” Olivia says knowingly, nodding slowly. “It isn’t Cash’s business who you date.”

“Exactly what I said!” I say. “But Colson told me I should wait until the tour ends. Otherwise Cash might blow up and leave the tour.”

Olivia frowns. “That’s not fucking fair,” she says.

I shake my head. “No, I agreed, Colson isn’t wrong–”

“No, Cash is wrong,” she says. “It’s not fair that he gets to enjoy his relationship and you and Colson have to hide.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” I mutter. “But my brother is stubborn as fuck. I wouldn’t put it past him to do some dumb shit like punch Colson or leave the band.”

Olivia winces. “That would be really bad.”

“I know.”

Olivia sighs. “Okay. So you wait ‘til the end of tour. That’s not so bad, right?”

I shrug weakly. “I guess not. Just sucks because I want to be unashamedly all over my boyfriend.” The word feels weird in my mouth, but I like the way it sounds. My boyfriend. Colson.

Olivia smiles slowly. “Fuck all that. I’m so happy for you guys,” she said. “I couldn’t have handpicked someone better for Kells, honestly.”

“Thank you,” I say, beaming.

“Now, can we go back to the virginity thing?” she asks, and my smile fades, but I nod.

“If I can manage to room with him,” I say, “we’re going to tonight.”

Olivia’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit,” she says. “I’ll make it happen. Don’t you worry.”

“Really?” I ask, nerves and excitement dancing in my belly.

“Yes, of course!” she says. “This is a big deal, Pres!”

“I know,” I agree, wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs. “I’m a little scared.”

Olivia softens and pets my leg. “From what it sounds like, Colson will be so good to you,” she says. “Just be honest with him. Don’t rush it.”

“It’s gonna hurt,” I say with a wince. “He’s…sorry. He’s your friend.”

“Oh, his dick is huge,” Olivia says bluntly. “We all know it. We’ve all seen Kells naked at one point or another. We’ve all walked in on him fucking, too.”

I cringe. “Yeah. Me too.”

Olivia winces sympathetically. “Yeah. Kells is– was– a manwhore. We love him, though.” She studies my face. “Hey,” she says. “It might hurt. But my advice is to do a shit ton of foreplay. Like, a lot. Have an orgasm before you even have sex, if possible. It’ll make it easier.”

I blush. I’ve never had a girlfriend to talk about this with before, but it’s nice not to be carrying this alone. I trust Olivia, and I really like her. I’m glad she agrees that Cash is being a douche. It tells me how good she is for my brother.

“I’ll figure out the hotel situation,” she says. “Your job is to enjoy tonight.”

Olivia is amazing, and she came through. She told Cash that she and I were planning on rooming together tonight but that she was missing him, and he gladly switched rooms with me, all too focused on his relationship. I’m furious at him, but I pretend that I’m not. He’s too wrapped up to notice something’s off with me.

Besides, my happiness with Colson makes up for it. I’m in pure bliss, knowing he’s mine and I’m his. I’m a mix between giddy and nervous as I lie on the hotel bed. Colson is in the shower. He insisted he take one even though I assured him I don’t mind being with him, post-concert and sweaty. It’s kind of endearing actually. He cares so much about this. He wants it to be perfect, I can tell.

So do I. I fluctuate constantly between scared and turned on. Once Colson is out of the shower and here with me, I’ll feel better. He turns off the shower and I tense up, fidgeting on the bed. This is happening. This is happening very soon.

Colson comes out of the bathroom in a pair of boxer briefs, hair still wet and messy from being towel dried. He looks amazing, as always. I love the way his briefs hug him just right, and I have an urge to tell him to turn around so I can check out his ass, but I can’t seem to find my voice.

He crosses the room to me, standing at the side of the bed, and reaches out to tuck my hair behind my ear. “How you doing, pretty girl?” he asks softly.

I bite my lip and reach out for him. “Good,” I say, voice nearly a whisper. He sits on the bed with his back against the headboard, then pulls me into his lap. He slides his hands up and down my sides, admiring the silky slip I’m wearing. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, looking up at me with those ice blue eyes. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

I bite my lip and then lean in to kiss him. His kisses always relax me, so it will calm me down. Colson’s big hands land on my ass and squeeze, and I start to grind against him, but for some reason, I’m not as turned on as I usually am. It probably has something to do with the giant knot of anxiety in my stomach.

Colson notices. Of course he does. He seems to know me better than I know myself. “Hey,” he murmurs, cupping my face in his hands. His brow is furrowed in concern and he’s frowning. “What’s wrong, baby?”

I’m embarrassed at the fact that my eyes are watering. This whole thing is so embarrassing. Why is this so hard for me? It feels like everyone else can get naked so easily. I’m 23 goddamn years old. What is wrong with me?

“Hey, Pres,” Colson coos, pulling me in close for a hug. Strong arms wrap around my waist and hold my close. “Shh, baby, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as my tears soak his neck. I’m shaking like a leaf and I’m so humiliated.

Colson laughs softly. “Oh, baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.” He kisses my shoulder and rocks me a bit. “Pres? Can you look at me?”

I don’t move. It’s too fucking embarrassing.

“Presley,” he says. “Hey, what’s your middle name?”

“Maeve.”

“Presley Maeve Carver,” he says, and my mouth twitches. “Will you just fuckin’ look at me? Please?”

I take a deep breath and finally do as I’m told, pulling back from our embrace. Immediately, Colson’s hands are on my face, wiping away my tears. He smiles sweetly at me and instantly, my anxiety starts to edge back down. I sniffle, feeling so vulnerable, but so very safe. How does Colson do it? Make me feel like nothing and no one can hurt me.

“Pres,” he says. “When I asked you to be my girlfriend, I wasn’t asking because I thought it meant you’d sleep with me.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “I asked you to be my girlfriend because I love everything about you. You’re perfect just as you are. Okay?”

I hesitate, but then nod.

“Baby, there’s never any pressure,” he says. “I love what we do together. I’m not in any rush to have sex with you. I mean, I would love to, don’t get me wrong.”

"I want to,” I say with a sniffle. “It just doesn’t feel right. Not right now.”

Colson looks around. “Kind of impersonal at a hotel, huh?”

I nod timidly.

Colson nods slowly. “We’ll be in LA in a week,” he says. “That’s where my house is. No one else will be around. We’ll have all the time in the world.”

I relax immediately. “That sounds better,” I admit. “Are you sure you’re okay with waiting?”

“Pres, I’d wait forever for you,” he blurts. And then he clears his throat, cheeks reddening. But his words have me biting back a smile.

I love you. The words want to burst out of me so badly, but I hold them in. Not yet. It’s still so soon. Even though the words read extremely true, even more so after tonight.

Colson

I can’t get back to LA soon enough.

It’s not because I can’t wait to have sex with Presley. I mean, of course I’m looking forward to it. I love her and I want to show her. I want to connect with her in that way. But that’s why I’m so happy to be back home. Time alone at my house will give us more time to connect, and maybe even talk about what the future will hold.

I can’t believe I ever wanted to marry Megan. In hindsight, I’m so fucking glad I was just her rebound because if we were still together, I never would’ve found out what real love is. I never would’ve connected with Presley like this. And when I say this girl was made for me, I mean it.

The longer we’re together, the more I notice things about her. She has freckles. Tiny, almost invisible freckles. They came out when we were in The Maldives and she got a tan. She also has a birthmark in her inner thigh the shape of a chicken leg. Not even kidding. It’s hilarious and cute. When she laughs really hard, she snorts, and her nose wrinkles in the cutest way. I know I’m in deep because it’s the little things I love the most.

Our plane landed a couple of hours ago and we just got back to my house. Our suitcases are in my room and Presley stands in the doorway, looking around. I love my room. My bed is huge, I have blackout curtains on every window for prime sleeping, and it’s designed for comfort. I spend more time in here than in any other room in the house.

I come up behind Presley and wrap my arms around her waist. She leans back against me and sighs. “I love your house, Col,” she says. “It’s so nice. It’s so you.”

I grin and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you.” I let go of her and cross the room, tearing off my shirt. “I need a shower,” I announce.

“Me too,” Presley agrees.

I lean on the doorframe of the bathroom and look her up and down. “Come shower with me,” I say.

Presley’s eyes immediately darken with lust and she bites her lip, tucking one leg behind the other. “Okay,” she says, voice small, but I can tell she wants it. I smirk and drop my jeans, stepping out of them, leaving me in only a pair of boxer briefs. Presley’s eyes widen slightly and she peels off her t-shirt and tugs down her leggings. Slowly, I stalk towards her, my eyes on hers the entire time, and when I get to her, I slip my hands into the sides of her panties and push them down. She gulps as she steps out of them. I lift her hands to my shoulders and then expertly unlatch her bra, tugging it down her arms. She grabs my boxer briefs and tugs them down, too, and finally, we’re both naked together.

The sexual tension in this room is absolutely unreal. Ever since our night in the hotel, we haven’t even had a second of alone time. It seems like someone’s always there, and more often than not, it’s Cash. My friend, my enemy. God, the guy makes me mad, but I’m also terrified of what’s going to happen when we tell him the truth. Will he get up and punch me out? Will he leave? I have no idea.

But right now, I can’t bring myself to care, because Presley stands in front of me, gorgeously naked, and soon enough, I will have all of her. I’ll be inside of her, and I’ll show her that I love her. That she never needs to be afraid again. That she can trust me. A shiver rolls down my spine at the mere thought of it.

I take her hand and pull her with me into the bathroom where I start my shower and pull two fluffy towels from my cabinet. I throw them in the towel warmer and turn it on, and Presley lifts a brow. I smirk and shrug. She shakes her head and grins. “Rich people shit,” she says, and I laugh. But my laugh cuts off abruptly when she steps into my space and curls her fingers around my already half hard dick. I swallow hard and look down at her, letting my hands move down her back. I love how confident she’s getting.

Wordlessly, we step into the shower. Immediately, Pres goes for the shampoo and lathers some in her hands. “Turn around,” she says. My brows raise but I do. I tilt my head back with a groan when I feel Presley’s long fingernails against my scalp. My eyes close and my mouth hangs open.

“That feels so good,” I moan, and I make a mental note to ask her to play with my hair more often. Presley takes her time shampooing my hair, then adds some conditioner. I lean towards the water to rinse it and then grab the bottle of shampoo. I gesture for her to turn around and when she does, I stare shamelessly at her ass. I can’t help it.

It’s my turn to massage the suds into her long hair and her turn to sigh and melt into the touch. I watch as goosebumps rise on her skin, even under the hot water, and smile a little. So sensitive and reactive, wherever I touch. Once her hair is rinsed and conditioned, she grabs the bottle of body wash and looks up at me. I gulp.

She pours some of the soap into her hands and massages it in until it lathers, then gestures for me to turn around and starts with my back. She takes her time rubbing the soap into my shoulders and then slowly down my back. Finally, I feel her hands land on my ass and squeeze gently, and I can’t help but smirk. No idea why but Presley loves my ass so much, but she’s obsessed with it. She massages my cheeks and I chuckle silently.

“Turn around,” she says, and when I do, I notice how dark her eyes have gotten. Desire swirls in my gut and I pull her close. She grabs some more soap and slowly starts rubbing it into my chest, her eyes following her hands. Down my stomach, she admires me, looking at me like I’m the most perfect thing she’s ever seen, and out of fucking nowhere, I’m hit with a huge wave of vulnerability. No one has ever looked at me like this. No one. Shit, and now my throat is tight. What the fuck is happening?

“Pres,” I say, voice rough with emotion, and she lifts her eyes to mine. She’s so stunning, her green eyes sparkling as she looks at me, hanging on my every word. I sigh and run a hand over her wet hair, my other hand sliding down her waist.

“Cols?” she questions when I don’t say anything else. Her hands continue to stroke my stomach, my hips. I swallow the lump in my throat and keep looking at her. I can’t say anything. My throat is too tight. She softens a little and smiles gently at me. “I know, baby,” she murmurs. “I know.” She leans in and kisses me, and the kiss is everything. It’s so full of love and care, and I realize all at once that this is it. There’s no one else for me. Presley is my present and my future. I’ll never feel for anyone the things I feel for Presley.

I wrap her up in my arms and hold her so tightly that my arms tremble a little. I’m realizing that for the first time, I might actually make love instead of fuck. The vulnerability is so striking that it scares me, but I can be vulnerable with Presley. I’ve always been able to.

We hurry through the rest of our shower and once we’re dried off, I grab Pres by the hips and back her slowly into the room. She watches me the whole time, trusting me to get her safely to my bed. Once the backs of her knees hit the bed, she sits. Her hands are all over me: my waist, my stomach, my chest. My ass, my dick. At this point, I’m so hard that I’m leaking but it doesn’t matter. Tonight is about Presley and showing her that sex doesn’t need to be scary. It can be safe and loving. Shit, I’m learning as much as she is.

“Get in bed, baby,” I tell her, and she does as she’s told, pulling back the covers to slide between my soft sheets. She sighs in pleasure and scoots over to make room for me. I crawl in beside her and slide my palm over her stomach, feeling the way it tenses slightly. I swear to god, her eyes haven’t left mine since we got here.

Finally, we’re lying side by side in my bed, with no plans for the day, no reason to rush, and no one else around. We have all the time in the world together, just like we did in The Maldives, and I know that relaxes Presley, knowing she doesn’t have to rush. I know she’s scared. Of course she is. Having sex for the first time is a big deal whether or not people like to pretend it isn’t. I need this to be good for Presley, to be special. She deserves it, especially after holding out for so long.

For now, all I want to do is kiss her. I pull her closer so her leg drapes over my waist, and as my hand slides down the curve of her back, I press my mouth to hers. Her little sigh travels right to my cock and I groan softly, teasing her lips with my tongue. She opens her mouth for me and I graze my tongue against hers, teasing her. I love the way she tastes.

Rolling her onto her back, I hover over her, taking control over the kiss. Presley is helpless to do anything but moan and pant as I melt her with kisses. I can feel her squirm beneath me, and I know she wants this. I know she’s wet just from kissing me, and I can’t wait any longer to feel her.

I let my fingers trace down her neck, and then I squeeze her breast gently. I love the way her tits fit in my hands, love the way her back arches when my thumbs brush over her sensitive nipples. Love the whines that fall from her lips when I play with her tits. I groan and roll onto my back, pulling her to straddle me so my hands are free.

She sits up and watches me as I bring both hands up, cupping her breasts before squeezing them gently. She mewls and her head falls back, stomach tensing as I roll my thumbs over her nipples. “Colson,” she whines, hips jerking a little, and I know she’s fucking soaked. She gets wet so easily, so sinfully fucking wet, and I can’t wait to bury myself inside her.

“Feels good, huh baby?” I say lowly, and she nods, brow furrowing with pleasure. “Yeah. That's my girl.” She practically melts into a puddle at my words, biting down on that sweet bottom lip. “Pres,” I rasp. I can’t stop talking to her. I think she likes it when I talk to her in bed. “Tell me. Are you wet for me, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” she moans, and as she does, she grinds against my bare cock. I let out a stuttering gasp as she slides against me, and instantly, my dick is wet. Holy shit. This girl is going to kill me. Cardiac arrest at 29. This is where it ends.

“Do that again,” I plead, voice tight as my hands abandon her tits in favor of gripping that ass. Immediately, she does as she’s told, and the way my dick fits against her is too perfect. Suddenly, the words are there on the tip of my tongue. I love you. But I hold them in. Not yet.

“Fuck, Presley,” I grunt as she continues to grind on me, rolling her hips more quickly. She gasps as her hips stutter, and my eyes flick up to her face. She’s in total ecstasy, jaw slack and eyes squeezed shut. I lift my hips on her next grind and those eyes fly open as she cries out, pressing her hands to my chest.

“Ohh, Colson, fuck,” she moans, voice shaky. “Fuck, baby, I–” She doesn’t finish her sentence, and part of me wonders if she’s holding the words back, too. But that doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is the angel falling apart above me right now, rolling her wet pussy against my cock over and over.

“That’s it,” I groan, digging my fingertips into her ass. “Make yourself come, Pres. Grind that clit on me until you explode.”

“O-ohhh,” Presley whines, hips jerking at my words. “Y-yeah…”

“Come on, baby, tell me you’re close,” I plead.

She nods frantically. “Y-yes, so fucking cl-close, Col.” Her voice is so beautifully broken, and I grip her ass harder so she grinds into me with more pressure, and as she does, her body goes rigid. Her spine straightens up as her breath catches in her throat, and then she wails, spasming against me. She gushes around my cock until I can feel her arousal trickle down my balls. It’s the sexiest, most erotic thing I’ve ever felt.

When she’s done, she collapses on my chest and pants. I stroke her hair as she comes down, and I focus on the feel of her heartbeat against my chest. When she catches her breath, she lifts her head to look at me. Her hand finds mine and she squeezes. “Hey,” she says softly, those eyes soft and loving as they look at me.

“Pres,” I sigh, kissing her gently.

“Col, I want you,” she says. “All of you. I’m ready, baby, please.” She sounds almost frantic and all it does is turn me on more, and fuck, I’m definitely coming way too soon tonight. It’s been so long since I’ve been inside someone, and she’s different. I’m in love with her. I’m ten times more attracted to her than I ever have been to anyone else, and I feel like a teenager again, worried about busting the second I get balls deep.

I swallow hard and gently roll her onto her back. Reaching into my nightstand, I come back with a condom. Her eyes light up a little. “Can I put it on you?” she asks.

I whine lowly in the back of my throat and my cock twitches, reminding me of just how little control I have. “Of course,” I tell her. She wets her lips and takes the packet from me, ripping it open. She pulls out the condom and examines it for a second. I push the blankets down, making it easier for her, and she places it over the crown of my dick. I shudder at the feeling and watch as she rolls the latex down. I don’t mind condoms. Better safe than sorry. I just hope it feels good for her.

Once the condom is on, I shift so I’m hovering over her, and then I get between her legs. “Just relax,” I murmur, leaning in to pepper gentle kisses over her collarbones. I stroke her hips gently, wanting her to be as relaxed and pliant as she possibly can be. This is going to hurt. There’s no way around it. 9 inches is a lot for anyone to take, but especially a virgin. For the first time, I feel guilty about my size. The last thing I want to do is hurt Pres, but I know it won’t always hurt.

She looks up at me with worried eyes and I kiss her gently. “Baby, I promise I’ll go so slow,” I assure her. “You’re in control here, okay? Do you trust me?”

“More than anything,” she says, pushing my hair back gently. “Just…be careful, okay?”

I nod, kissing her cheek softly. “Deep breath for me.” I reach down and grip my cock, rubbing the tip up and down over her clit. Her ass tightens and her hips lift slightly and she gasps at the sensation, still sensitive from her recent orgasm, I’m assuming. I guide my dick lower until it dips just slightly into her pussy, enough to gather her arousal and disperse it a little more.

My heart is pounding so fucking hard I feel like I might pass out, and suddenly, I can’t keep it in anymore. I press inside of her, just an inch, and when she hisses, eyes growing worried, I touch her face. “Presley,” I say. “Look at me.” Her eyes find mine and when I see her relax, I know it’s time. I don’t know why, but I laugh softly. “Presley, I love you,” I say finally.

Pres freezes, studying my face as if she doesn’t believe me, but when she realizes I’m telling the truth, her smile is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. “Cols,” she says breathlessly. “God. I love you, too.”

I had no idea how much I needed to hear that. I relax and kiss her hard, and when I do, I slide just a little deeper. She whimpers and I have half a mind to pull out, so scared of hurting her, but then I feel her long nails dig into my asscheeks. “Don’t stop,” she gasps, shuddering beneath me. “S’okay.”

“You’re doing so fucking good,” I say into her mouth, my legs shaking as I try to take my time. “Keep breathing, my love, keep breathing.” She bites down on my lip gently as I sink deeper inside, a whine keening out of her. We pant into each other’s mouths as slowly, I start to fill her, and holy fuck, she’s so tight. She squeezes my cock so tightly that I can barely breathe. Nothing has ever felt so fucking good before.

“Almost there,” I tell her tightly, finding her hand and lacing our fingers together. “Doing so good, baby, I love you so much.”

Presley lets out a helpless little sound and puts her hand to the back of my head. “Colson, I love you,” she whimpers, and when I pull back slightly to look into her eyes, I can see they’re watering. I open my mouth to ask if she needs me to stop, but she shakes her head and shushes me. “This isn’t because it hurts,” she murmurs. It's emotion. Fuck. I’m doing this all right. She feels safe and loved and I did that for her. Finally, I drive myself home with another slow surge of my hips, and Pres gasps.

“Oh shit,” she mutters.

I look at her, a little worried, but she just laughs breathily. “Cols,” she says. “I’m not a virgin anymore.”

I can’t help but laugh too, and then we’re kissing. It’s messy and wet and passionate and so goddamn perfect. I could kiss her forever. Finally, she makes a soft sound and lifts her hips, giving my asscheek a squeeze. I retract my hips and carefully roll them forward. Presley breaks the kiss to let out a shaky moan, her brows knitting together. “Shit,” she pants.

“This okay?” I ask, and she nods fast.

“God, yes.” Her voice is so laced with pleasure that I swear to god my balls tighten up. Fuck, I need to try to make this last.

She’s wet as fuck, seriously soaked, which makes it easier to start sliding in and out of her at a slow pace. “Oh my god,” she chokes out, wrapping one leg around me. “God, Cols, feels so f-fuckin’ good–”

“Uhh, fuck,” I stutter out, unable to help myself, because it feels fucking good for me too. Way too good. My dick is wrapped so tightly in her warm, wet walls, and with every roll of my hips, our abdomens press together. I can feel every inch of the woman I love, and much to my surprise, her eyes aren’t the only ones that are wet.

Burying my face in her neck, I try to hold back my emotions, but it’s been so long since I’ve cried and I’m scared it’s all going to come pouring out at once. I focus on the heat of her pussy, the feel of her soft skin against mine. Our hands are clutched tightly together and her nipples graze my chest and my abdomen is clenching as I pick up the pace. But Presley is whining and moaning and making the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard, and she’s enjoying this. I know she is. She doesn’t even have to tell me.

“Presley – fuck!” I gasp, a familiar warmth rising in my stomach after way too short a time. Christ, it hasn’t even been five minutes. “Holy shit, baby, y-you’re gonna make me come,” I manage.

“Mm,” she moans, digging her nails into my back. “Fuck, Col, I love you, baby, I love you so much!”

It’s her profession of love that does it for me. It’s all too much for my emotions and my body and I let go, coming so hard my vision whites out for a second. I’ve never felt so safe and secure and loved in my whole life, and as I rut against Presley, I wonder how anything could be more blissful than this.

Finally, once I’m done, I stroke her hip and very gently pull out of her. She whimpers at the emptiness and I shush her gently, sliding down between her legs. I lift them over my shoulders and she looks down at me, panting. “Shh, baby, gonna make you feel better, I promise.” I close my eyes as my tongue meets her swollen clit, and I apply just the right amount of pressure.

When I close my lips around her clit, I know what’s going to happen. She cries out, legs pressing against my head, and I wrap my hands around those beautiful, trembling thighs. I’m not taking my time here. I’m making her feel better, I’m making her come, and I want to taste every fucking second of it. Letting my tongue drift self-indulgently into her pussy, I groan at the taste there, at the way her arousal is just everywhere. I’ve never been with someone who gets this wet and I go absolutely fucking wild for it.

“Colson!” she cries out, pushing both hands needily into my hair as her body hunches, trembling beneath me. “Ohh, fuck, I’m gonna come–”

I moan against her, pulling her closer as I prepare myself, and my eyes slip closed in pure bliss as she bucks against me, her orgasm causing her pussy to flex against my mouth. I moan, enjoying every second, and god, I don’t want this to end, I want to be back inside her so bad, but that can wait. We have all the time in the world to do this all again.

Finally, I rest my head against her thigh and pant. We both struggle to catch our breath, her hand still weakly in my hair, my face covered in her release, filled condom still wrapped around my cock. I wince at the latter sensation and finally pull back, rolling the latex off of me. I sigh in relief and toss it into the trash, then settle into bed beside her.

She rolls her head over to look at me and she’s so blissed out that it takes my breath away. Her green eyes are glazed, her lips are red, and her mouth hangs open. She smiles softly at me and leans in for a kiss. I pull her close, savoring her kiss, and finally hum as I pull back. “Hey,” I murmur. “You need to pee.”

“How would you know?” she scoffs, and I laugh.

“I mean, I don’t know if you have to pee, but you need to so you don’t get an infection,” I explain.

She lifts a brow. “You’re smart, Colson Baker,” she says, and I grin sheepishly. She smiles too and gives me one more kiss before rolling out of bed and walking on trembling legs to the bathroom. “Don’t listen!” she yells from the bathroom and I laugh, rolling onto my back.

“Can’t help it,” I call back. “It’s quiet in here.”

Presley groans and I snicker, burying myself in the blankets to give her some privacy. Holy shit. Presley just gave me her virginity. We told each other we love each other. I can’t believe everything that has happened in such a short period of time.

I open my eyes when I feel the blankets lift, and I open an arm for my girlfriend, for the woman I love. She settles into my chest and sighs. I smile and kiss her forehead. “I mean it, Pres,” I murmur. “I love you.”

“Yeah,” she says, tracing one of my tattoos. “I mean it, too. I love you, too, Colson.”

I can’t help but smile. I’m not sure I’ll ever get tired of hearing that. “How is this real?” I ask.

Presley laughs softly. “I don’t know. I’m not complaining.”

“You okay, baby?” I ask.

She nods. “Yeah. I really am. It’s you, Col. I trust you so much,” she says, looking up at me. “Thank you for making it perfect. You take such good care of me.”

“I always will,” I tell her, and she softens, leaning in to kiss me.

As we lie here together in my bed, kissing and cuddling and talking, I realize I’ve never been happier. Presley was right. I should’ve given a relationship a chance. And I’m so glad I did, because Presley is absolutely everything to me. I can see our life together unfolding and it doesn’t scare me.

All it does is make me super fucking happy.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly x ofc #mgk #mgk smut #mgk fanfic #mgk x ofc #colson #colson smut #colson fanfic #colson x ofc #colson baker #colson baker smut #colson baker x ofc #colson baker fanfic

77 notes · View notes

boliv-jenta · 1 year

Note

Hey Liv, I hope you had a good weekend☺️ I’m not sure if you take requests but I can’t stop thinking about Steve finding fem reader passed out in the embassy somewhere because she’s pregnant with Javi’s baby👀 Maybe she’s been off a while and Javi’s away somewhere with Carrillo

Disclaimer: I didn't finish Narcos and I got so excited to get a request I stayed up to get this out.

Warnings: Mentions of smut. A little angsty. Pregnancy related illness.

WC: 1.8k

Uncle Steve

The office was empty. The silence was only interrupted by the ticking of the clocks as he passed them and the click of his shoes against the floor. Each step finally taking him home to Connie. He's almost at the elevator when he sees the light on. It's odd, no one should still be here. They've been quiet as hell if they're still here. Putting it down to someone being forgetful, he pops into the office to switch off the lamp. That's when he sees you. Laying on the floor.

Panic flares in him, but he tries to stay calm. No good will come of him losing his head. What does he do? Pulse. Recovery position. Airways. Words whizz through his mind as his hands work. You're warm, that's good. His hand searches for yours. He doesn't know why, to comfort you? His fingers graze your wrist, and he feels it. A pulse. He didn't have to look too hard for it. It must be strong. At that point, you started to come around. Thank fuck because he had no idea what to do. Connie!

"Hey. You're alright. I've got you. I'm gonna call for help." You give a weak nod as he pulls your head into his lap. The phone crashes to the floor as he reaches for it. "Shit!" Pulling on the cord, he fishes it back. It takes five rings for Connie to answer. He counts while he prays.

"Connie. I'm at work. One of the women I work with, I found her passed out." Give him a gang full of guns to face and he'd keep his head. Medical emergencies were not his forte.

"I'm okay." You managed, hearing the frantic worry in his tone.

"She's conscious? Be careful letting her sit up. You don't want her passing out again. Get her checked out right away." He hears Connie's advice. Like he wasn't going to take you straight to a hospital as soon as he could.

"Thanks, Con." He is genuinely grateful. He hated the moments it was just him dealing with this.

"Woah. Take it easy." He tries to slow you as you sit up, Connie's words in his head. Please don't pass out again.

Leaning back against the desk. You crack your eyes open to look at Steve. He looks how you feel. "I'm okay. I just need to eat, I think. My head hurts too."

Steve notices the red mark on your forehead. Maybe from the desk on your way down. He's on his feet and to the kitchen. He raids the cupboard for sweet treats. Grabs a cup of water. Then he grabs the ice pack Javi keeps in the freezer for those really bad hangover days.

Returning like a triumphant Labrador with a ball, he places the items next to you. All except the ice pack, which he gently holds to your head.

Your pride hurts more than your head as you let Steve care for you. It was stupid to skip dinner but this lead could bring Javi back. He was out there chasing leads when he could be here. He needed to be here. There were some things you couldn't talk about over the phone.

"Here." Steve holds up a packet of something covered with coconut. The smell turns your stomach. He jumps when you start to wretch.

"I'm sorry. It's the smell of them." A connection instantly is made in Steve's mind. One that terrifies him as well as angers him.

"Are you pregnant?" His eyes are wide as he asks. "We need to get you, both, checked out."

"I'm fine. Like I said, I need to eat. Just something without coconut." You fish out a much more appealing plain cookie.

"You've been here all hours. And out in the field. If you were my wife…" He regrets the words as he says them. He doesn't know what your situation is.

Shame blushes your cheeks. Steve takes a stab in the dark. "Wait, the father doesn't know, does he?"

"No. Not yet." You confirm his suspicion.

"You need to go get checked out. Is there someone you can call?" It's at this point Steve realises that he knows nothing about you.

He knows that you are a hard worker. Diligent. Somehow, in an office full of men you manage to keep off the radar. Objectively, he knows you're beautiful. In most places like this your presence would be like throwing a stake to a pack of wolves. He would have thought every single, and a few not so single, man in the office would be sniffing around you. Somehow you've managed to command respect without creating waves. Everyone keeps their distance and lets you work. Even Javi toed the line. He never flirted with you. He was always polite with you. Come to think of it…no. There was no way. You wouldn't give Javi the time of day, you were too smart to get mixed up with him or anyone in the office.

The cookie you ate wasn't sitting right. "I feel sick."

"Come on. We're taking you to the hospital."

An hour passed before they would let Steve see you again. He paced the floor like it was his child you were carrying. Something about seeing you on the floor. Looking so fragile and helpless. Even when you were anything but. If it were Connie, he'd want someone with her. When he entered your room, he was happy to see you looked much better. He came to sit beside you. "How are you?"

"Better. I told you I just needed to eat." You nodded at the discarded tray on the table.

"You did." He smiled before adding "So do you want me to call Javier?"

There was no point in denying it, Steve was obviously more observant that Javi had given him credit for. Even though you had been incredibly careful at work. No longing glances. No favouritism. Minimal conversation. Come to think of it, maybe you had gone too far the other way. Javi was charming. Who wouldn't want to talk to him or to curry favour with him?

Javier burst through the doors two hours later. Running right into Steve. "What happened? Where is she?"

Anger boiled in Steve. You'd been working hard to look for leads for Javier yet he had no idea what was going on with you. Grabbing Javier by the shirt he slammed him into the nearest wall. "You fucked around in the office and now I'm dealing with it. Did you know? Is that why you ran off on this lead?"

Confusion furrows Javier's brow. "What? Know what?

"She's pregnant." Steve loosen his grip a little. It seemed like Javier was genuinely stunned and concerned.

"No, I didn't know. I had no idea. We've only…a few times." Javier knew than didn't matter or that he'd uses a condom. It only took one swimmer as his sex Ed teacher once said.

"So she's just some casual fuck? In our office, really?" Steve's head spins with the momentum of Javier changing their positions.

Steve is the one now pinned to the wall, with his partner's fist twisted in the front of his shirt. It takes Steve a minute to see where Javier's anger is coming from. "What? Don't you like being called out on your bullshit?"

Javier bares his teeth before his gaze flicks in the direction of your room for just a second. Then it all becomes clear. "Shit. You care about her, don't you? Poor girl. That might actually be worse."

Javier huffs a laugh in agreement.

"How long have you been…?" He pressed for details.

"We've been dating for seven months."

"Seven fucking months? And dating? With like flowers and shit? Since when do you date?"

"Since her." A smile tugs at Javier's lips.

He started dating because you told him he'd have to work for you. You told him that he could have one night with you now. A night that you would completely make worth his while. Or he could work for it. He could get to know you then he could have more than one night. For the first few weeks that night became more tempting. Everything about you enticed him. Then as time wore on he knew he couldn't settle for just one night. It took five months for you to give him that night. But how right you were, it was completely worth his while. Javier had been with a lot of women on and off Uncle Sam's dime. None of them could hold a candle to you. You kept him up to the crack of dawn. Taking your pleasure from him and returning it, what felt like ten fold, to him. He was already hopelessly in love with you by then. He confessed as much the next morning as you lay on his chest. Since then he'd taken you on dates, treated you like a queen. Things had come up to keep you apart so he'd only known you touch a couple more times. He couldn't work out what type of luck it was that you were now carrying his child.

"Are you okay?" Javier's words ghost across your forehead as his lips leave a kiss there. "Are you both, okay?"

Damn, Steve. "Yes, we are."

"Steve told me.It is mine, right?" Fuck. He curses himself. Of all the stupid things to say. Especially when he's into too deep to care. Part of him wouldn't give two shits who's it was. As long as you were his.

"You'd think it was Steve's, the way he's been clucking about." You joked to relieve his obvious tension. "Yes, Javier. It's yours. I'm keeping it. I can do this by myself. You don't have to.."

Javier couldn't even stand to hear you finish that sentence. He silenced you with a press of his lips.

"I will be here. For them. For you if you want me to."

"I do, Javi."

"Good because Steve might kill me."

"DEA agent slain by partner is not a good headline."

"Ex-partner."

"What?"

"Let's quit. Let's go back home. Let's do this right."

"Are you serious?"

"I have done and seen so much bad shit here. The only time I don't think about or see it when I close my eyes is when I'm with you. I'm not risking losing that or our baby." His warm hand spread over your stomach.

Steve paced the hallway again. He was starting to think he might actually wear a groove in it. Then Javier appeared, a smile on his face even wider than the one he'd had all those months ago, the last time Steve had been pacing outside your hospital room.

"It's a girl. I have a daughter. You wanna meet her?" Javier slapped his ex-partner on the back in a celebratory hug.

"Well, if that isn't karma. When she's all grown up you'll be chasing off men like you."

"That's not funny, Steve."

"Oh, it is."

"Shut up, you fucking hillbilly."

This first Javier's daughter hears of her Uncle Steve is his laughter over the grinding of her father's teeth.

Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #javier peña x reader #steve murphy #no proofreading we die like men #late night writing

135 notes · View notes

zombholic · 2 years

Note

since your requests are open i was thinking about something on rhea ripley she’s so beautiful, my heart…

maybe some hurt/comfort where reader kinda feel sad, i had my dose of crying today sooo…… you can chose the plot, some fluff too🖤

thank you byeee 🖤🖤

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘢𝘬𝘢 𝘳𝘩𝘦𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

you were a girl with sensitive feelings, everyone who knew you knew that, especially your girlfriend, demi. you were currently sitting on your couch in your guys shared condo, you were watching the tag team match you know, liv and rhea, you weren’t stupid, you knew that everything in the wwe world was just fiction and a big made up story but you couldn’t help it, you were jealous and insecure. you hated seeing how close and touchy they were, it was like tiny needles getting stabbed into your chest and lungs whenever you would see them.

demi was on her way back home, always sending you messages of when she arrived to work and left work. you went to wash your face in the bathroom, seeing as all your mascara was running down your face and brutally stinging your eyes, you cried, you cried because you overthinked so much it was unbearable “baby, i’m hoommee” the door shut and your girlfriend called out in a sing song voice “shit” you muttered to yourself, wiping your face dry you left the bathroom and into the living room.

“hey, you hungry?” you saw her leaning down, head in the fridge “hi my love, i kinda wanna order something, anything you want?” she smiled when she saw you, kissing your lips so sweetly “yeah sure um nothing in particular, you pick” you started to chew the skin off the inside of your cheek, a habit that was caused from anxiety “baby, why’s your face so puffy” she cupped your smaller face into her hands, rubbing your cheeks “allergies, it’s nothing really” you gave her a small reassuring smile.

demi finally ordered some food and you guys basically ate in silence, she would try to start up a conversation but you weren’t feeling it. getting ready for bed you sat down on your side waiting for demi to turn the lights off “i know you’re lying” she sat down next to you “tell me what’s wrong, you’re acting all gloomy” she placed a kiss on your cheek “i feel like you’ll get mad at me” you said barely audible “i will never get mad at you for expressing your feeling sweet girl” she grabbed your waist and sat you on her lap, straddling her “now tell me” she cupped your face “i feel like- i feel like you’re more into liv” you sighed, avoiding any form of eye contact, you felt your heart pounding and your stomach churning from anxiety.

“god no, y/n/n, do you not see how fucking crazy i am for you” she wrapped her hands around your waist pulling you closer “i could never look at another woman like that, you are literally the love of my life and i cannot imagine myself with you” you could hear the sincerity in her words “i literally threw a bitch fit because i hated how touchy our characters were but you know i can’t risk losing my job darling” your eyes trailed up her face to her eyes, her eyes so sweet and filled with love “i’m sorry demi, i love you so much” you placed a kiss on her lips, wrapping your hands around her neck “never be sorry, i love you like crazy” she hugged you back tightly.

A/U: IS THIS WHAT U WANTED? LIKE THIS KINDA SAD OR SOMETHING? DO YOU LIKE IT FLABFNAN

#rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley #demi bennett x reader #demi bennett #wwe raw #lesbian #wlw #lgbtq #please send requests

390 notes · View notes

look-at-the-soul · 1 year

Text

The Photoshoot-Part 42 The Date edition

Cillian Murphy

Series Master list 2014, 2015

A/N: I want to start this chapter by celebrating @peakyscillian for 1.5 k followers ! Congratulations dear Lau! I hope you get a lot more! ✨🎉💐 so I was inspired by your amazing dating series but I made my couple go on a date. ♥️

Especial notes: 1) You don’t have to follow the series to read this part, the only things you need to know is Cillian’s wife, Yael is a photographer, the story is set in September 2015, they met at a Photoshoot Cillian did at the end of filming S2 of Peaky Blinders and they are struggling with infertility at the moment, Cillian decides to take her on a special date as he needs to get in the skin of Tommy Shelby.

2) For this part I got the amazing help of two people who actually know about horses, my dear Cia (holacia2) & @notyour-valentine I can’t thank you both enough for all the input you shared with me -the one who knows nothing about horses- you made me imagine everything while writing, thank you for making this possible (you will find your names through the chapter as my way to thank you for your support) 🥰

Her whole body ached, specially her legs after that barre class. Cillian had convinced her it would be a good thing to go back to do the things she loved the most. It wasn’t easy for her, but at least she wanted to try, for him.

Taking her bottle of water, she took a big gulp, just as a voice called for her.

“Hello!”

Turning around, she found another woman smiling at her.

“Hey.”

“It’s good to see you back,” but looking at Yael’s puzzled look, she touched her arm, “oh! I’m sorry we never talked but we’re in the same class, I’m Liv.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Yael.”

“That’s such an unique name, never heard it before…”

Yael chuckled, the amount of times she had to write it down because people couldn’t understand it…

“I missed coming over, now I’ll feel so sore tomorrow.”

“No pain, no gain… or so they say.” Liv laughed. “I’m heading for a coffee, do you want to come?”

To her own surprise, Yael found herself nodding. There was something so charismatic about that woman, she had a light blood and nice energy around her.

“Sorry if I made a face before, I don’t have friends here, all the people I know is friend’s with my husband…” Yael apologized as they were waiting in the queue.

“No worries, we never talked before.” She mumbled while checking the menu. “Where are you from?”

“The UK.” Yael answered ordering the same coffee she always got. “Are you Irish?”

“Nope, I was born in the UK as well, but we moved over here since I was a toddler, so I’m basically another local.”

“That’s really nice.” She waited until Liv ordered to walk to a table. “Thanks for reaching out, all my close friends aren’t here… and I could use one right now.” Her eyes watered in a snap, her pain right there in the surface.

Liv reacted the only way she knew. “Oh darling, what’s the matter? We can sit outside the terrace is empty.”

“Sorry, I’m just all over the place.” Taking her sunglasses from her bag, she decided to hide beneath them. “God, what you must be thinking of me right now, how embarrassing.”

“Nothing bad, just that you need someone to listen.”

Liv moved back in her chair as their coffees arrived, and offered Yael a napkin.

“You know, I could use a friend too, but I’m too shy at the class because all of those ladies look me upside down.” She made a face and rolled her eyes. That made Yael chuckle.

“Most of them look like frustrated ballerinas.”

“But I mean it.” Liv looked at her, feeling like she was a good person. “Whatever is bothering you…”

The day was beautiful, Yael noticed, the sun up and bright, the terrace had big trees in front of it, surrounding the locals.

“I really appreciate your kindness, but it’s a little bit recent and the last thing I want to be thinking of is that. Maybe I’ll tell you another day.” She gave her new friend a try of a smile, it was just too personal to share. “Did I interrupt your reading?” Yael asked taking a look at the book poking out from Liv’s bag.

“Not at all, I always have a book with me, as I’ve to wait in the boring queue at school to pick up my kids.” She then went on to take a bite of the muffin, “Oh! This is so good, you should try it!”

Yale accepted one small bite and offered some of her own to Liv, but with that small detail she realized how Liv really was a good person, without knowing her, she was willing to share her food. She liked her already.

“I love reading as well, maybe we can exchange books or something.” Yael proposed.

“I’d love to do that! Let’s make this a regular, class, coffee and books.” Liv suggested with a huge smile.

And Yael couldn’t agree more, they spent some good time chatting about their lives, another things they enjoyed to do, their families… As they waved goodbye to go on their respective days she hugged Liv and thanked her one more time for her kindness, feeling like a nice friendship was starting, she felt so grateful for meeting someone like Liv.

***

“So I was thinking, maybe I could invite her somewhere? A little dinner to celebrate Liv’s belated birthday?” Yael asked Cillian from the en-suite, running her eyes over the bottles of shampoo, body lotion and other toiletries they would need. “Love?”

Cillian’s eyes were lost in thoughts, sitting by the end of the bed.

“What? Yeah.” He shook his head a little.

“You’re not paying attention.”

Cillian scoffed. Busted. “You’re there talking in your underwear… how am I supposed to focus?”

Yael blushed, suddenly aware, feeling self conscious, she took the leggings she just bought from the shelf and then threw the fluffy sweater over her head, it was longer than a usual jumper, so it covered her bum perfectly, her dark curly hair was now dry, so she did a quick messy bun at the top of her head.

He loved to listen her talk about her activities, especially now about the new friend she just made, until now he didn’t think of how lonely Yael was, of course his family was close and that was such a relief for him, but it wasn’t the same, soon he would be gone for months to film the upcoming season of Peaky Blinders and having a friend close could make things easier for his wife.

“Are you sure these are fine? You said comfortable clothes…”

“That’s perfect.” He smiled, glad that she had been taking her barre classes constantly, listening to her little stories of her new friend, and the excitement over the secret date he had been planning.

Walking towards the bed, Yael left the things she was holding next to her weekend bag, then quietly made her way to sit on his lap, passing her arms around Cillian’s neck.

“Hi.”

His hands linked automatically around her waist. “Hey you.”

“I want to thank you for all the things you’ve done over the last days… I haven’t been on my best and-”

“You have nothing to thank me for.” He fixed his blue eyes on her features.

“I know, but really,” she tried to distract herself with the top button of his denim shirt, his lotion filling her senses. “You’ve been cooking most of the time, listened to my stupid fears over the treatment and I know I didn’t make it easy.”

She brought her lips to met his in a small peck.

“Without you and your support I wouldn’t be able to hold it together, I just want you to know I really appreciate the extra effort you’ve put to make things easier.”

Cillian’s fingers moved in slow circles over her jumper, he wanted to do more, do anything to take her pain away.

“I’d like to do a bit of thinking of our options, investigate more to make a decision of what’s the best road for us, both IVF and adoption are long and tired process and I don’t want to feel pressured.”

Cillian smiled pleased, she always dedicated a huge amount of time before making an important decision, she helped him be less impulsive, think of all the possible scenarios and outcomes.

“We’ll do this on your pace, take all the time you need.” He kissed her, feeling her worries melting away. Her lips telling him a lot more than words could.

“You’re seriously the best husband ever.”

He chuckled. “Ah, that’s because I’ve the best wife.”

“Does it means I’m your favorite?”

Cillian arched his eyebrows, “of course you’re my favorite wife!”

And they embraced each other in a tight hug, feeling some kind of weight was lifted from their shoulders, their journey wasn’t easy, but they got to face it together and that was exactly what they needed. Support, teamwork, union…

“Will you tell me of this secret plans you have?”

“Not yet.”

Yael looked at him with a pout.

“Just a little hint?”

Cillian groaned and made her stand up. “Fine, Tommy needs to come out from the wardrobe for the new season, I need to remove the dust from him.”

Yael squealed as she felt his hand sneak down her back, then to her bum to give her a squeeze and a wink.

“Are you going to tell me what will happen to him?”

But he was already shaking his head before she could finish. “No, you asked for a hint of the plans not the script.”

“Ah, I won’t tell nobody.”

Cillian stopped at the top of the stairs, holding the bag in one hand, bringing her close by the waist with the other. “You’ll have to ask Thomas Shelby.”

She was surprised by the sudden brummie accent, his deep voice making her purr internally, a tingle running up and down her body. But she still tried to get him to speak as they drove to his sister’s house, Yael was extremely excited for the small change, for getting out of the house since some days were harder than the others.

Scout didn’t pay them any attention as they walked out the door, he was busy chasing after Sienna, bumping the stuffed animals with his nose.

“Do you know why is he so mysterious?” Yael squinted her eyes at Orla, keeping her voice down.

“No, he never tells… once he took Evan to Aspen for snowboard lessons and didn’t say anything, until he saw Joseph Gordon-Levitt and freaked out.”

“I swear if he takes me to a shooting camp, I’ll come back walking.” She joked wondering if she could switch places with Orla’s husband.

Orla suppressed a laugh as her brother walked out of the bathroom.

“Enjoy the weekend.”

Over an hour later, Yael saw they were entering a huge ranch, it seemed like a private property full of big trees, a huge structure in the back.

“Where are we?” Her mouth was hanging open by the sight before her eyes.

“This is a horses sanctuary.” He smiled proudly, offering his hand to help her out of the car.

Before Yael had time to react, two women approached the car and as they got closer he greeted them.

“This is Val and this is Cia, let me introduce you to my wife, Yael.”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Cia welcomed her in a short hug, followed by Val.

“I’m so glad you made the reservation.” She stated.

“When I started to prepare for my role in Peaky Blinders, I came here to take riding lessons, they showed me how to mount a horse, to caress them, well everything.”

“It’s nice to meet you, this is such an amazing surprise.”

Cillian took her hand while they walked around the property, they explained it was a business ran by a family and they were both in charge on the riding sessions.

“This is where we train the young horses we get.” Cia pointed to an big area protected by a tall fence.

“This is beautiful.” Yael breathed out, taking a look around she felt so much peace.

“Wait until you see the horses, that’s the real beauty of this place.” Val offered guiding them to the large stable.

Yael squeezed Cillian’s hand when they entered it, feeling so small in such a huge place, she kept looking everywhere like a child in a candy store.

“This is Thunder,” Cia pointed caressing the first horse. “That one is Sonny, he was born here on a sunny day that’s why his name, and that beauty over there is Star, Penny, is living here temporarily,” she touched every single horse on her way with such a love oozing, and the most impressive thing was they equally gave it back. “Oh, bless you Moose.” She chuckled as one of them sneezed.

“Badger, usually kicks in excitement don’t get scared” Val started to explain just as they hear a loud kick, the hit on the wood echoed and Yael jumped in surprise. “There it is, he’s like a kid with hyperactivity.”

“Where’s Toni?” Asked Cillian remembering the one he used to learn to get used to horses while preparing for his role.

“Oh he’s at another fascility right now, working with children with special needs.”

“I came here to learn how to ride for the series.” He explained to his wife. “They take such a good care of them here, help them heal if they’re sick and show them how to be gentle with people, I met a boy with Down Syndrome while riding and his father told me it helped him so much with his skills and self esteem.”

“Would you like to give them a snack?” Cia asked, barely holding her excitement.

Yael doubted and took a step back, she had never been around horses before.

“It’s alright baby, here, let me show you.” Cillian took the apple slices from Cia’s hand and showed her how to do it. “It’s just like a big dog.”

“Yeah like ten times bigger!” Yael replied with a nervous chuckle still unsure, would the horse bite her hand?

“I’ve been told they can feel our emotions, our fears…” He understood her reluctance, at the beginning he was scared of riding a horse too. Cillian started caressing the muzzle of the horse to show her nothing bad would happen.

“If you don’t want to touch him in the face, you can caress his neck, they are very gentle.” Val offered from the opposite side.

As Yael nodded, she moved automatically to walk around to the other side, to stand next to Val, but her husband caught her right on time.

“It’s the other way around love, you never should walk behind the horse, he could kick you.” He explained so tenderly guiding her by the shoulders.

Yael chuckled nervously, it made sense. After touching the horse with just her fingertips, she realized he was so soft, but firm, moments later, she had completely warmed up to Harrison, smiling up whenever he made a little sound or move his ears, an indication that he was enjoying the petting and attention.

Cillian stepped back, watching his wife taking in the horse, the sparkle in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed to him, he was relieved to see her happy, enjoying the moment, Yael even asked to give Harrison another snack and laughed loudly when his nose touched her hand, it had a funny texture. They showed her how to brush the horse’s hair, it was surprising they had so many tools and it was a way to show some love and respect for the animal, the most beautiful thing about that sanctuary was that, they didn’t do it for the money, they wanted people to understand and value the animals.

But when the horse looked into her eyes, something changed inside of her. It felt as if the horse knew her battle. It was an indescribable moment, she was lost for words.

“Shall we go for a little ride?” Cia proposed and then Cillian winked at his wife.

Yael looked at every single person around with panic written all over her face.

“I tell all the couples that this is the test of fire, if they can ride together, they can live together.” Val encouraged them.

“The look on her face is screaming she’s scared he will throw her.” Cia joked.

“I’ve never been on a horse, and he’s usually making jokes and pranks…” Yael tried to explain.

Cillian faked indignation. “I’d never do such a thing.”

Val and Cia laughed, every single man who said that, did exactly the opposite to his wife.

“Don’t worry, you can ride with us, Cillian can ride by himself.” That seemed to calm Yael, because she accepted the boots Cia offered.

But it wasn’t just like that, let’s go and ride, boom, you’re on the horse, no… they spent a good amount of time showing Yael how to get on the horse, she had a good pliability by her years practicing ballet, but taking the impulse and swing your leg to then land carefully on top of the horse was a completely different task. And she failed several times on the saddle they set up to practice, but she got the chance to learn to control her body as well.

“Alright, keep your back straight,” Cia instructed Yael once she was on the horse, she could tell Cillian’s wife was so tense by her posture, “relax, it can feel a bit weird at first, let the horse guide you.” Cia was sitting behind Yael, holding the reins while she was holding onto the hom tightly.

“Ready?” Asked Val, she would guide Harrison by foot, to help Yael feel more comfortable with the ride.

“Are you sure he’s not going to run?”

“Harrison is very good, he’s such a gentleman and you’ve got Cia to control the pace and moves, don’t worry I’ll guide him slowly too.”

“Baby, you’ll feel a little pull at first.” Cillian warned Yael from his own horse, he was past that initial scary moment now, but he knew it was all new to her.

“Oh my freaking God!” She expressed in a panicked tone as the horse started to move. “Why didn’t you invite Evan to do this?” Yael closed her eyes tightly.

Everyone laughed, both Cia and Val were used to reactions like this when it was someone’s first time riding, it depended on the trust and bond the person could build with the horse.

“Try to not press your legs so much.” Val pointed out.

And finally after a few seconds, Yael opened her eyes, it felt a bit strange, the position she was sitting on, the movement, the way everything looked with the back of the head of the horse so close… but when she looked to her right and found Cillian smiling at her riding close, there were no words. She knew she would do it all over again.

“Eyes on the road please, you’re making me nervous.” She admitted loud enough for him to listen.

But this time, Yael laughed with them, she had started to feel comfortable enough to caress the horse’s hair and neck -trying not to lean too far-, but she was past the shock now, Cia even showed her how to take the reins, giving Yael instructions on how to make the horse take a left and then a right, showing that she was in total control.

“Oh wow, the stable looks so tiny from here.” Yael stated, looking how far they had moved.

“Do you wanna go back now?” Cillian asked, stopping his horse right in front of the other.

She nodded and they started to ride back, Val had to go back earlier to attend other customers. The view was absolutely breathtaking… as they got down from the horses, Cia suggested them go to the picnic table a few meters away from them. She gave the couple a look as they walked away, hoping the details Cillian requested would work, perhaps she should propose the romantic idea to the owners.

Reaching the picnic table under the tree, Yael gasped surprised as she saw everything; the table set for two, lemonade, tea, a pie, a basket with fresh fruits… she was touched by his gesture, her heart could explode from all the love she felt for him.

“This is beautiful, thank you.” She brushed her lips against his.

Cillian sighed relieved that she liked his plans.

“Had to compensate for the scary moment of riding a horse.” He chuckled.

She offered him a bite of one of the sandwiches and Cillian took it, looking right into her eyes, a soft smile decorating his lips. Taking a sip of his lemonade, Yael brushed a small leave from his hair, a lot of things were on her mind, but right there, looking at Cillian with the sun kissing his skin, the wind moving his hair, he was all she could focus on.

They enjoyed the food, it had been a long day and they would be staying close for the rest of the weekend, more riding lessons waiting for them. He needed to get into the mindset of his character and riding a horse was a fundamental part of Tommy Shelby.

“I’ve been thinking on what Val said earlier… about riding together.”

That caught Cillian’s attention, he fixed his eyes on her.

Taking a deep breath, Yael took his hand, looking for comfort, trying to ease her nerves by his touch. “I’d like to go for a ride… with you.”

Cillian was taken by surprise, the last bite of his sandwich stuffed into his mouth, but he was on his feet in seconds, taking a couple of cookies in his hand he offered his free one to his wife.

“Let’s go before you change your mind.” He celebrated pulling her excitedly, she laughed because of his eagerness.

Moments later, they were riding a beautiful dark chocolate horse named Brownie, but Cillian took her on another route, enjoying the calmness, riding together, he sitting behind Yael, his arms around her waist taking the reins, her body pressed gently against his chest, now knowing what to expect from the movement of the horse, trusting Cillian totally to take her wherever he wanted to.

She didn’t know how long they have been riding, but it surely helped her to clear her mind and heart, without realizing soon they reached the beach and the atmosphere changed completely as the sun was starting to go down,reflecting beautifully against the sea gifting them a breathtaking sunset.

One of his hands sneaked around, to wrap around her stomach, his thumb running small circles over her sweater, Yael bit her lower lip lightly thinking of this beautiful moment with her husband, of how much she had learned of herself in the last hours about horses, about riding, about trust.

“I want to try, Cill either way… IVF or adoption, whatever it is, as long as I have you by my side.” She didn’t have anymore doubts left, everything he did for her that day had been cathartic.

Slowly, she turned her head around to look at him, finding so much love in his eyes, she saw him nodding, now that she said it out loud it felt easier, lighter.

“Thank you for today, thank you for this beautiful date.”

Cillian brought up the hand that was holding her to cup her cheek, leaning his head forward, he captured her lips in a tender kiss. The sun lighting her features, making her glow.

He would take her on a hundred more dates.

****

Next part

A/N: Thank you for reading ☺️✨💐 I loved writing this part so much, I wanted them to have a moment of peace, romance, you already know it, your thoughts help me keep going and it’s the best payment I could get ✨

I read somewhere Cillian took a friend to do snowboarding while preparing for his role in Inception, I took inspiration from there too

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @winchestergirl22 @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @peakyscillian @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @queenshelby @heidimoreton @ange-thoughts @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @rangerelik @already-broken144 @alessioayla @paprikabadger @dolllol2405 @conversationpits @itsilvermorny @lafell @imichelle-l-rigby @yrli8 @cutecurly-hair @mrkdvidal1989 @hyperfixationsonshuffle

#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fan fiction #cillian murphy x tommy shelby #modern tommy shelby imagine #cillianMurphy #cillian murphy x oc

59 notes · View notes