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jesuistrestriste · 1 year

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♡ You're Such A Loser pt. 2; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡

nsfw (18+) cw: switch(dom)!art donaldson, switch(sub)!reader, reader guiding art through domming, begging, brief choking, slight hate fucking themes, orgasm denial, slight bit of tears/crying (he’s okay), oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, praise, degradation, creampie.

all that frustration from losing his matches has built up in him, and now Art is ready to let it all out. only because you’re letting him, of course.

word count - 2.9k

note : part twoo (part one) !! i hope that those who liked pt. one will like this part just as much :) it’s a lil bit of a switch in dynamic (pun not intended)

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He’s diving back into your cunt without hesitation, lapping at the remnants of your orgasm that have spilled and sprayed down your inner thighs. His arms are hooking under your legs so that he can bury his tongue deeper and deeper into you.

You groan deeply, running your fingers through his hair before pulling the locks taut in your fist.

“Yes, baby, just like that.. your mouth always feels so damn good,” you breathe out, moaning at his expert tongue skills.

As you gaze down at him, you can see the way that his eyes are squeezing shut and his brows are turned up in arousal as he licks at your insides. He lets out a pathetic whimper at your words of praise, which shoots a mouthful of vibrations up through your form. Your knees tremble, clamping down on his flushed cheeks, and you use your grip on his hair to guide him gently up to your clit. He takes notice of your cue, and moves his mouth up to suck your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasp brokenly and toss your head back, before looking down again to see his face.. and god, he is beautiful. His brows are still knitted up, but now his big aquamarine eyes are watery and looking up at you like a lost puppy. He was all yours. Just yours, and he knew it too -- in fact, he loved it.

“That’s it, sweetheart, doing so--mmf!--so well,” you moan out, using your hand to now stroke at the back of his head and give him a bit more physical stimulation. His eyes flutter closed at the feeling of your fingers brushing against his scalp, and out of habit he reaches up with one of his free hands and uses his middle and ring finger to brush against your dripping hole. Immediately, you wince at the contact, and he lets out a drawn out groan that you can tell is an incoherent plea for permission. You nod.

He wastes no time in turning his wrist so that his hand is palm-side up, and then his fingers are gliding into you without any resistance whatsoever. Your body is absolutely starved for him at this point, and you can’t do a thing to hide it. As he feels your insides wrap warmly around his digits, his eyes prick with tears while he continues to mouth at your clit.

He brings his head back, detaching his mouth from your body, and moves to look longingly at the way your fingers are sucking him in every time he pulls them back. Your slick is covering his chin and his lips, which are currently parted in arousal as he huffs and puffs from desperation. He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, relishing in the way that he can feel you clench and twitch.

“You’re so hot,” he whispers, not breaking eye contact with the point of connection between your body and his. He then decides to bury his two fingers so deep inside of you that they actually completely disappear. Next thing you know, he’s curling his fingers repeatedly in the “come hither” motion while he’s still buried up to the hilt. About thirty seconds of this is all it takes for you to get there.

“SHIT-! Oh my god, Art, don’t fucking stop, don’t stop, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m g’na-”

You manage to moan out a quick warning before your hips are arching into his touch, going completely still for a few moments. Then, wave after wave of your orgasm washes over you, causing your pelvis to spasm rapidly as you babble incoherent phrases of praise to your partner.

Art’s mouth is now completely agape, his eyes lidded, as he takes in the show of your orgasm, not stopping the movements of his fingers. You couldn’t really tell over the sound of your own vocality, but he was letting out tiny whines and whimpers from the way that your body was making his cock leak pathetically in his already-soiled boxers. He could barely hold his second orgasm off.. it was so damn hard.

After you collapse fully on the bed in an attempt to recover in your afterglow, sticky with sweat and panting heavily, you are now able to fully hear Art’s pure and unfiltered anguish. He’s moaning lowly as he glances from your cunt down to his clothed cock, which is jumping over and over in his underwear -- begging for attention. He then moves to pull his wet fingers from inside of your pussy, which allows for a few drops of viscous wetness to spill from your hole. Without hesitation, he lurches forward with his pretty tongue sitting gently on top of his bottom lip so that he can gulp down the taste of your release. He sucks and licks greedily at your hole, letting his eyes flutter closed as he grips his own thighs. He doesn’t want to touch himself yet. After all, you never gave him permission.

“You’re such a good boy, baby.. so needy and hungry for me, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly but shakily, his nose brushing against your clit as his mouth continues to relentlessly engulf your heat.

“You want me to let you cum?” you ask, knowing from his track record that he’s probably already on the edge.

He pulls back, licking at his bottom lip to not waste any of your taste, before he removes his hands from gripping his legs and instead places them to your waist. He digs his fingers into your soft flesh as he looks up at you from his position on the floor.

“Please, please, I’m already there-- just tell me I can and I will! I promise,” he gasps out, drawing out the second half of ‘promise’ to emphasize his sheer closeness. His brows are still turned up as tears start to well in his eyes. He’d cry if you said no, you knew that. The real question was: did you want to keep punishing him tonight? Had he had enough?

“Tell me how bad you want it, love.”

You could stand to be cruel a little bit longer.

He whines, his fingers clenching around the skin of your hips, as his pelvis continues to buck involuntarily.

“I want it so badly- I wanna cum- I’m so close, please please please.. I don’t know if I can stop it,” he moans, the slight friction of his cock against his wet boxers pushing him closer and closer to the point of no return.

“What if I said no?”

“Nooo, god, please don’t.. I’ve already made you cum.. I could prob’ly cum just from you telling me that I can.. can I? Oh shit, please-”

“I’ll tell you what: I’ll let you cum if you can take control for once.”

He looks at you, confused, before trying to stave off his orgasm by biting down on your thigh as he lets out a broken whimper. You yelp, before stroking his hair, knowing that he was deep in an animalistic state of mind -- he didn’t mean to hurt you, he just was trying so hard to be good.

“Use your words, Art.”

He releases you from between his teeth, before tears are spilling down his cheeks.

“I,” he sobs, “I can try.. but you know that I’m not like that..”

“I know, baby, I know. I want to teach you. Would you like to try that?”

He nods. He’d do anything to cum at this point.

You use your hands to push yourself farther back onto the bed so that your head is now close to the headboard. Art watches your every move, but stays as still as he can. He still wanted to please you, and didn’t want to do anything without your say-so. This was going to have to change within the next ten minutes.

You pat the bed’s comforter, and he immediately crawls up onto the bed and hovers over your form. His breathing remains uneven as his cheeks continue to flush with the torment of his delayed release. The erection in his boxers is still as stiff as ever, and you eye the way that it visibly jumps with anticipation.

One of your hands reaches up to comfortingly caress his face, and he leans into your touch.

“Breathe, honey, breathe. You’ll get what you want soon.”

He sighs, which almost turns into a moan, but he cuts himself off as you start to give instruction.

“Okay, first I want you to take off my top and bra. Undress me, understand?”

“Yeah,” he responds breathlessly, moving to pull your shirt over your head and unclasp your bra in under a minute. You were now completely naked, and he allowed himself the pleasure of drinking in the sight of your uncovered body. You were so gorgeous, it made his dick twitch.

“Good. Now, take off your boxers and shirt. I wanna see you,” you couldn’t help staying in a dominant headspace for a few seconds more.. it was just so fun to boss him around. He was so quick to follow directions, too.

He unsurprisingly does as he’s told, swiftly removing his gray tee and pulling down his boxers. At the sight of his bare cock, you bite your lower lip and place a hand on the back of his neck to guide him down to meet your mouth. You kiss him deeply, letting your own tongue lick his as he reciprocates with equal ferocity. He’s mashing his lips with yours, moaning into your open mouth when you pull back to switch the angle of your head. You bite down on his bottom lip before sucking it, which causes him to groan deep in his chest. Your hands snake to his lower back and you pull him down in one swift motion so that his body is now pressed flushed to yours as you continue to make out. A few more moments of this go by before Art knows that he has to speak up..

“I th-think I’m gonna c-cum,” he stutters, rubbing his hard cock against your lower stomach, “I can’t hold it, I cannn’t-!”

You reach down quickly and grasp his dick, which makes his eyes roll back into his low lids, and then you’re sliding it inside of your tight hole without warning.

“Nnghh-! I’m--fuck!” he sobs out, immediately spilling a thick, warm load inside of you. You let him thrust shallowly into you as he pumps you full of cum.

“Ah hah hah haah-!” he cries as he overstimulates his cock by continuing to fuck himself through his long-awaited orgasm.

As you watch his face with a smile and feel his throbbing dick inside of you, Art suddenly pushes himself up onto his hands so that he’s looking down at you. He’s gasping for more air but his brows are sitting low on his face and he looks weirdly upset.

You reach a hand up to his face, but he grabs your wrist with one hand and shakes his head without breaking eye contact with you.

“Don’t,” he breathes out, before beginning to thrust his spent cock more forcefully inside of you. Was he pissed that you had initially denied him..?

“Wha-”

“Don’t say anything, please,” he cuts you off, “just let me fuck you some more..”

You close your mouth, feeling a new kind of heat swirl in your gut. There was something about his tone that was new for him.. there was a bit of authority in it. Art hangs his head as he groans, pulling his cock all the way out to the tip before slamming it back into you. The wind feels like it just got knocked completely out of your lungs, and you squirm on the sheets.

“You feel so good.. f-fuck, I’m already hard again,” he moans, a growl beginning to creep up his throat.

A moan escapes your lungs as you let your head fall back into the plush pillow, and then before you can fully comprehend what he’s doing, his hand is over your mouth. His elbow is resting by your neck as his palm covers the lower half of your face and muffles your sounds.

“I said to be quiet,” he says gruffly, now speeding up the movements of his hips. They snap back and forth with a renewed sense of fervor, filling you up with his heavy cock with every thrust inside of you. You moan, although muffled, and you can tell that your stifled sounds were driving him crazy.

“You did a lot of talking tonight, babe, now let me say something--”

You drool under his hand, your mouth open and panting, as you try to focus on his words,

“I don’t get why you called me a loser when you’re my coach.. my loss is your loss- shit!”

The tip of his cock hits your cervix as you clench around him, causing him to briefly lose his train of thought. He finds it quicker than you thought he would, though.

“So that means that you’re a loser too, aren’t you?” he spits out with gritted teeth, leaning down close to your face and looking deep into your eyes. You compulsively whimper and buck your hips up to meet his.

“Use your words, baby,” he mocks you from earlier, anger laced potently in his command.

He knows that you can’t talk coherently right now, and it’s not his hand that’s stopping you. He knows damn well that if he removed his hand from your mouth, you’d still be a slurring mess of moans and pleas for more beneath him. His cock was fucking you so well, and it was hitting all of the right places at all of the right times. You weren’t sure you were going to last much longer, and neither was he to be honest..

Before, he was in the mindset of a defeated, washed-up tennis champ, but now he was taking on the same persona that he did when he was in his prime. When he won back-to-back matches. He was a fucking beast.

“Mmmph-! Mm-!” your moans rolled around in your chest and were muffled by Art’s large palm as he continued to fuck mercilessly into you. You felt the cord in your gut being pulled taut.. ready to snap at any moment..

Suddenly, he pulls his hand from your mouth and groans, bringing it up to his mouth as he licks depravedly at your drool left behind on his skin. You whimper at the sight, and he follows it up with a similar vocalization before speaking down to you.

“You taste so good, baby, fuck fuck...” he pants, the movements of his hips becoming sloppier by the second.

he places his wet palm down across the center of your collarbones, and you groan lowly at the feeling, before you take his wrist and manually move his hand up to the base of your throat.

“please,” you whimpered.

and he readily obliged.

Art squeezes gently at the sides of your throat, stifling the blood flow to your brain and initiating the spread of a pleasant fuzziness throughout your body and head that made your impending orgasm feel that-much-more intense.

“you like that? you like when i choke you, baby..?” he moans, clearly enjoying the switch in dynamic as much as you were.

you nod immediately, trying to take in more oxygen as his fingers pressed deliberately against your pulse. then, he released you from his grasp like a lion drops a gazelle from its mouth before feasting upon it.

you take a huge, broken breath into your lungs before everything begins to feel like it’s getting too much .. everything feels too good right now..

“Honeyimgonna-mffphh!-imgonnacumpleaseohmygod” you couldn’t stop the slurry of nonsensical pleas and whines as you felt your orgasm getting ready to wash over you.

“I’m gonna give it to you so good.. i wanna fill you up.. you’d be nowhere without me, let’s face it.. if i didn’t win any matches we’d have no income.. so i’m not a goddamn loser.. i’m not.. i’m.. i..”

Art was becoming more and more incomprehensible the closer he got, and then he felt everything crash down around him once your orgasm started to rip through you and pulse around him.

“OH GOD! HOLY SH- OH FFFUCK! I’M CUMMING I’M CUMMING!” he shouts, unable to hold anything back as he fills you up again.

You feel the warmth and tingly pressure of his release spread throughout your cunt as you cum on his throbbing cock, your eyes rolling as your head tips back against the bed. You whimper and groan as you take in the feeling of your second orgasm of the night, and relish in the heat and aftermath of your partner’s third one.

After you both come down slightly from your highs, Art collapses in a sticky, sweaty mess on top of you as his chest heaves against yours. You close your eyes, smiling, as your hands move to rub lovingly at his lower back. As his head rests heavily in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, he slowly pulls his hips back and you whimper as the feeling of emptiness starts to rush through you in the absence of his length.

You could feel his cum oozing down your pussy, and you laughed softly at the sudden realization of the reality of your situation.

“You know,” you huffed, still trying to catch your breath, “i think you just came inside of me again.”

he laughs.

“i don’t think i could have stopped that from happening..” he smirks, rubbing his soft but sensitive cockhead against the inner part of your right thigh.

“right, right.. all i’m saying is that you better not get me pregnant. you’re already a handful as it is.”

“You love it,” he whispers, picking up his head slightly to bite at your neck.

“Whatever you say, loser.”

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guys, this took so long to finally finish up and that’s on me lmaoo

writer’s block had me in a firm chokehold n i didn’t like it

i feel like i ended this fic a bit quickly, but i think that can mostly be chalked up to sleep deprivation.

anyways, hope this quenched ur mike faist thirst for the moment, but i have more ideas that i want to write about asap.. so there’s definitely some more hot stuff coming soon hehe

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shanesbluechicken · 2 years

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Farmer: *turns around to leave the Joja store*

Morris: *stands in their way* Are you lost, babygirl?

#i'm not done with you guys #not yet #sdv #stardew valley #sdv incorrect quotes #stardew valley incorrect quotes #sdv morris #sdv morris x reader #sdv x reader #sdv x farmer #stardew valley imagines #stardew x reader #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley morris #stardew morris

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megantheestallion-ismypresident · 2 months

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Being in a relationship with the Unholy Trinity Headcannons

Santana lopez:

Santana first laid eyes on you the minute she saw you in the glee club. She was very popular in school for being in the cheerios and Glee club. no one in glee really caught her eye until she saw you, you had a huge crush on the Latina cheerleader you thought you would never have a chance with her, until she spoke to you and then eventually you two got closer with each other and that when you became a real couple.

● Santana really loved you than no other, she was really glad that you're her girlfriend, Santana was so afraid to come out of the closet, but when she started dating you she didn't have a care in the world, everyone in McKinley knew that you two were dating but you didn't care at all.

● You are the only one who understands and calms Santana down when she's angry or upset.

● Santana loves singing duets with each other.

● You started joining the cheerios just to be around her.

● Santana has no problems beating someone's ass or standing up to anyone for you.

● She can be very overprotective over you and can be very jealous if she sees anyone flirting or being too close for comfort around you.

● Santana teaching you how to speak Spanish.

● Loves hanging together at breadstix Lima all the time, so you can spend more time together.

● Always sticking up for santana when the new directions gang up on her or saying anything rude because you refuse to see or hear anyone talk bad about her.

● 5 of pda but prefers it private

● a lot of physical affection like hand holding and cuddling, and you love to hear her rant about things when she's pissed or having a bad day.

● Always telling santana that you will always love get and that she's your special person.

● Both of you spoiling each other

● Never any arguments, she refuses to raise her voice at you and never violent with you she would never imagine hurting you. She loves you way too much.

● She is rude towards everyone else but a puppy towards you.

● You both can be very jealous, but that's only because you both hate thinking about being with anyone else.

● You're her number 1 fan, and she's the most talented singer in the glee club.

●Being with santana is the best thing in your life. She's confident, gorgeous, and will literally destroy anyone for you, and there's no other in the world like her.

Quinn Fabray:

Quinn first met you at cheerios practice. At first, she did not like you at all she would make rude comments or make fun of you, but that all changed once she got pregnant and joined the glee club.

● When quinn found out she was pregnant she, she was very shocked that you stood up for her and supported her after the things she said about you, but she loved how you were there for her when no one else was.

● You guys would walk each other to your classes and would talk for hours and hours and later in you two got even closer, Quinn started getting feelings for you and became an official relationship.

● She's very thoughtful. She would invite you over to her house, let you sit over at her table during lunch.

● You always go to every cheerleading competition and scream loudly just to encourage her and the rest of the Cheerios.

● She would pick you up after practice and give you a ride home and would go hang out like at her place or to the movies.

● Kids at school stopped bullying since you started dating the most popular girl in school

● Both of you being partnered in Glee club singing songs together for assignment.

● You weren't expecting a girl like quinn fabray to date you she was very distant from the start and you never thought she would pay you to any mind since she's very popular and the captain of the Cheerios.

● Quinn never really liked expressing her feeling at all and would pretend like everything is fine but she started becomg more relax and opening up to you a bit more, and became more comfortable in her own skin with you

● You love her smile,Her smile is so gorgeous.

● Quinn made a promise that one day, the two of you would get out of here and start a new life and live together and get married.

● Quinn loves you more than everything else even though the relationship was a bit rocky, but quinn is lucky to have you in her life.

Brittany S. Pierce:

You first met Brittany after being slushied in the face. You were honestly surprised that she was helping you take off the slushy off your clothes and face.

● Brittany was very nice to you she would wave at you down the hallway. She would make a lot of conversation with you even though half of the time she didn't really make any sense, but you still listened.

● You and Brittany got closer when she needed help with her chemistry homework, Brittany always doubts herself, but you always reassured her that she is smart, and that's when you guys started dating.

● You're always defending her against anyone.

● You telling something off when someone calls her stupid.

● You find it so cute how innocent and naive she is.

● She calls you unicorn.

● You were so ready to fight artie when he called her stupid.

● Alot of pda, and she's not afraid to show it.

● Makeout sessions, especially in her bedroom.

● You love watching Brittany dance she is a really awesome dancer.

● Always holding hands with you

● Lord tubbington loves you.

● Both of you listen to Britney Spears together.

● Brittany loves you so much, and you were the only one who didn't treat her like everyone else's treats her in this school, and she's happy she's with you.

(I'm rewatching glee because I stopped watching it around season 4 so I'm rewatching it so I can pick up where I left off and I had this idea in my drafts for a while so hear you go Idk if the glee Fandom is still alive?)

#glee x reader #glee #santana lopez x reader #Santana lopez x black!reader #quinn fabray #quinn fabray x reader #quinn fabray x black!reader #brittany s pierce #Brittany s pierce x reader #Brittany pierce x black!reader #glee x black!reader #heather morris #diana agron #naya rivera

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blondewhoresworld · 1 month

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cries

#challengers #art donaldson #dear evan hansen #mike faist #newsies #zendaya #art donalson x reader #josh o'connor #morris delancey #patrick zweig

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stardewremixed · 1 year

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First Kiss with Shane

@hellhoundmaggie requested a first kiss scene with Shane. He was the first guy I romanced in SDV, mostly because it was easy to in the beginning and I wanted that first-year flower dance so badly. 😂 🌸

🎈 In case you missed it - First Kiss with Harvey. 🎈

While Harvey holds a special place in my heart and is generally my go-to husbando, I didn’t want to leave my “first SDV squeeze” in the lurch. I’m trying to expand my experience with writing romance in general. Hope you enjoy. It’s a freakin’ novella. Haha. I don’t do short, and I wanted to show how he fell in love with the Farmer, and she with him.

This is female farmer x Shane = first kiss. This one might be a little more PG.

😉❤️‍🔥🔥

Sweaty palms. Greasy hair. Chubby cheeks and legs. Is this what she sees in me?

Shane stared bleakly at his own reflection in the refrigerator door. It was quiet. Nearly noiseless in the back aisle of the stark JojaMart. A lull in the daily traffic around 4pm on the dot. When his shift ended.

Shane pressed his forehead against the glass, grumbling to himself about his infinite lack of progress on losing weight. Ever since he started going to therapy and quit drinking, he felt confident that his life would turn around. Like magic.

However, life outside the rehabilitation center was much harder than he remembered. He was still stuck in the same dead-end job. He was still bumming a room off his aunt with his piddly rent And he was still rather plump around his abdomen.

Every time Morris ordered him around, in that pompous high London accent, Shane wanted to give up. To give in. To snatch a beer outta the cooler and gulp away his frustrations.

Instead, he settled for cussing under his breath, and resolving to keep his head down. At least until he could find another job. No one seemed to be hiring in this dying town. The recession was still hitting hard. And he knew he was lucky to get his old job back after nine months in detox and rehab.

It was worth it. It would be worth it. He convinced himself as he puffed a lazy strand of hair out of his eye and continued stocking cartons of overprocessed milk, nothing like his aunt’s fresh bottles or the farmer’s delicious cheeses.

While he was still grossly underpaid, Shane worked out the math. In six more checks, he could repay her. The Jolly Rancher. Just thinking about his silly little nickname for the farmer lady to the north gave him a warm feeling. The kind that alcohol used to give him, only better, more real. Her smile was sweet.

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When she first arrived in town, Shane genuinely disliked her. All her bubbly, bouncy, jolly persona encroaching on his flat, boring, grumpy existence. He had cultivated a philosophy of "me myself and I" and was perfectly content being alone, sulking into a pitcher of beer at the end of the night. But not really…

Her jovialty grew on him, especially when he would see her around town, helping people out. At first, he figured she was just another city do-gooder come to convert the backwater people to a more modern lifestyle. But her joy and kindness was genuine. Even when he yelled at her to go away, she still murmured a heartfelt apology for disturbing him and then brought him freshly grown peppers or tomatoes the next day like nothing had ever happened.

The Farmer purchased cows from Marnie so she could make her own specialty dairy products. He was seriously impressed. Because what city girl just ups and buys cattle?

Sometimes when he was restlessly tossing and turning in bed (and if was honest, lonely), Shane would wander around in the wee pre-dawn hours. He always seemed to make his way to her ranch. Most of the time, she was out in the barn milking the cows and talking to them like they were her babies, with just a lantern illuminating her soft face. She was so beautiful.

Raising cattle was no simple task. He knew this from watching his aunt. And Marnie had horses, pigs, goats, rabbits and chickens to think of too. He wasn't sure if the new rancher in town, with little to no experience (save her degree in veterinary medicine), was stupid or brave. Over time, he determined she was the latter.

Out searching for a lost cow in a thunderstorm. Not thinking about her own welfare. Only wanting to reunite a terrified animal with its herd.

Fixing fences after wolves knocked down the back posts time and time again. Her fingers bleeding and scarred because of her lack of self-awareness sometimes. And chasing of “’dem there wolves” with sheer willpower... and... a big stick.

Rebuilding the barn from scratch when a wildfire spread down from the mountains. She saved every single one of those animals. And needing treatment for smoke inhalation because she went back in for the tiniest frightened newborn.

He remembered the time she got kicked in the head by one of the cows. Shane was so worried about her, even if he wouldn’t admit it when he carried her to the Clinic. Thankfully, it was only a minor concussion. (And it was an excuse for him to deliver Marnie's special basket of goodies to her twice daily so she didn't have to worry about feeding herself during her recovery).

The rancher struggled for a whole year, after arriving in the Valley. But even when things went wrong, she was up and back at it the next morning with a lightness in her heart and step. It. Was. Admirable.

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Shane resolved to do better. To be better. She made him think about how things could be different if he wasn't a self-sabotaging jerkwad. The number of times she dragged his sorry ass home after getting plastered at the Saloon was too high to count, even if it was out of her way, even if she said she didn't mind. She wanted him to be okay. To be safe. She said so.

And she half pushed, half dragged him to the Clinic the night things got really dark. When he faced the edge of the cliff and thought "No more!" When he thought death would be a welcome reprieve from his pathetic life.

She never judged him. She didn't enable him like his aunt. She didn't fall apart into a puddle of tears like Jas. She didn't lecture him on the evils of his ways while twirling his moustache like Harvey. Okay. Shane chuckled to himself. Maybe that last part was an exaggeration and unfair to the good doctor.

She. Simply. Cared.

Through her actions.

In the beginning, it was little things. A happy hello. A robust handwave. Then she started pulling up a barstool next to him in the Stardrop. She would ask him about his day and he would always answer the same way. But "go away" somehow morphed into a sarcastic "just peachy" and then eventually a half-hearted "fine, you can sit there." Once she jokingly called him Peaches.

He didn't want to be bothered with her questions and idle chatter. He didn't want to listen to her ranching successes and woes, retold in a much-too-chipper voice. He didn't want to know about Bluebell and Daffodil and Daisy, how Mister Munster was nursing a hoof injury and how Mrs. Butters was expecting her second calf. Why did she think he cared about such details?

But it grew on him. Those rosy, ruddy cheeks, enjoying a hard-earned glass of whatever Gus had on tap. The way her eyes lit up and sparkled when she talked about her animal friends. The way her pale pink lips pouted when she lost a game of Journey of the Prairie King in the saloon arcade. Again.

Shane found himself drawn to her energy. And he found himself missing her on the nights she didn't stop into the Saloon. Which was a rarity, but did happen.

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Shane knew she was someone special when he would watch the entrance door, breath caught, hoping she would breeze through, and then she didn't. Two days in a row. He started to feel disappointed, but brushed it off. Three days. He started to get concerned. On the fourth night, he went looking for her. And that's when he learned she was sick.

He practically broke down her door when she didn’t answer.

“Aww you were worried,” she laughed weakly, and coughed.

She looked rather pitiful, bundled under the blankets, hair sticking to her cheek, eyes droopy and dark. She thought Marnie would have told him. His aunt had sent a few of her ranch hands to help their neighbor out while she was under the weather. so her cattle weren’t forgotten

No, Marnie never did. He suspected it was because she didn't know it would matter to him. But it did matter. She. Did. Matter.

Without a word, Shane went to the kitchen and returned with a cool towel. He didn't even think. He laid the back of his large hand against her delicate forehead. He could've sworn the little Miss Jolly Rancher blushed. Or maybe it was the slight fever she was running. She audibly sighed as he placed the wet cloth against her burning cheek, closing her eyes and mumbling her thanks.

He wanted to know the last time she ate. She grunted and said something about some cereal earlier that morning. She didn't know for sure. She had slept most of the day. He promised he would be right back.

She told him not to bother, as she struggled to lift her body off the bed, propping up by a shaky elbow. He insisted she lie back down. She was a stubborn one. Her protestations didn't last long as her head was too foggy to think straight. He microwaved a bowl of soup. She tried to sit up again, and he fluffed her pillows so she could prop up.

Her grip on the spoon wasn't firm, her trembling hands an indication of just how weak she was. So he caught the escaping silverware and lifted the soup to her lips. She turned red as a hot pepper, but he eased her with a surprisingly tender words, "Please. Let me take care of you for once, Miss Jolly." His own face and ears were probably red too. But she accepted.

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Since then, he began the habit of calling her "Miss Jolly." She flushed every time, but he enjoyed flustering her. It was nice… to care… about… someone.

She returned the “favor” and called him Peaches. At first, jokingly, just to annoy him. But over time, even the ridiculous fruity nickname grew on him. She was invading his thoughts and heart and he couldn’t stop her.

He knew he had to change. He had to get better. Alcoholism was a disease that had ravaged his life and he was ready for something better. He couldn’t live like he had been any longer. She had changed everything for him. And he wanted to change in return.

Disappointment smacked cold. He had researched so many places. But the one place that seemed to fit his needs and desired treatment plan was out of reach. Prohibitively expensive. He sold his dad’s watch. His car. He worked longer hours. Maybe in a few years he could make up the difference.

She knew how much he wanted this... and how badly he needed this. Every glance at his savings account wanted to drive him to the bottle, the hopelessness of a solution just out of reach because of his crappy medical insurance. They wouldn’t cover it. Even though he was pretty sure Joja was the reason he drank so heavily.

No, that wasn’t true. It was his own insurmountable guilt. Of surviving the accident. When they didn’t. Of leaving Jas without a respectable father figure. Or a mother. He didn’t even fight when the courts wanted to give him jail time.

His aunt got a lawyer and gave him a place to stay when he got out. She helped him put together a resume and practically shoved the application for overnight backroom clerk in his hands. He had to face the music. He wasn’t cut out for any other job. And it was basically a glorified “stock boy.”

Approaching middle-age, recently released from prison, and overwhelmed with a crushing lack of self worth, Shane interviewed and got the job. He should be grateful. But the hours were grueling and monotonous. Customers were rude. Employees were ruder. Except that Sam kid. He was a ball of sunshine. And his boss was sucking the life outta him.

So he drank. He drank to forget. Because he couldn’t forgive himself. And every time he looked at Jas’ little pained expression, he drank more because he felt... so... damn... worthless.

The Rancher changed things for him. He felt more positive. He got up earlier. He brushed his teeth. He combed his hair. He put on his uniform for the world’s lousiest low-paying job and went to work hoping things would be better.

Faced with the inability to actually “get better” was... frankly... terrifying. What if he went back to being that same old pathetic blob of a human again? After ten agonizing days, he finally confided in the one person he knew he could trust. His “Miss Jolly.”

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He couldn’t believe he had been moved to tears. She surprised him... again. With her thoughtful generosity and selflessness. She promised to pay for the difference. Whatever he couldn’t afford. She told him it wasn’t a big deal. It was a VERY BIG deal! She still had some of the inheritance money from her grandfather. What she hadn’t spent on fixing up the farm.

“So I don’t get those gingham curtains I’ve had my eyes on for the past month,” she quipped.

It was serious. He couldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t accept it. It was too much. He didn’t like the idea of being indebted. He was stubborn. He could refuse.

But she was more stubborn. She insisted it would be a loan, not a gift. He could pay it off over time. Without interest. Or he could work it off - sweat equity - on her ranch. Maybe with those chickens he liked so much.

In the end, he caved. He packed up what little he could take with him. And she walked him to the bus stop. Kissed his cheek. Squeezed his hand. And said the words that simultaneously made him laugh and warmed his heart.

“Go get ‘em, Peaches.”

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That was a year ago now. When he came home, she threw a big surprise party for him. A few people from town, his aunt, Jas. And she never looked more beautiful. She even found chicken shaped balloons. Because... what guy doesn’t want balloon animals from the girl he’s crushing on?

Crushing on? He smirked. I sound like a middle schooler.

He split his time between the market and her ranch. Gradually spending more and more time on her farm. Gathering eggs before his shift. Feeding chickens on the way home from work. Sipping peach iced tea in the shade of her porch and thinking this life wasn’t half-bad. But he wanted more.

She started bringing by lunches on his longer shift days. Homemade sandwiches and fresh-pressed juices and handpicked peppers. The kind that burst with sweetness or that spicy kick he needed to get through the rest of his day.

She learned to roll her own dough. Once a week, on hot summer evenings, she would make him pizza with her own special spicy red sauce. Wearing that cute little red and white checkered apron around her jean shorts and just below the edge of her tank top. Too hot to be standing around the stovetop making pizza sauce or the oven to bake the dough. But she did it for him. Shane looked forward to it after a long and grueling Saturday shift.

He still stopped at the Saloon most nights, but now it was just to drink soda and share a pepper poppers appetizer. Gus started bottling root beer, made from bark and flowers and herbs from around the Valley. It wasn’t alcoholic. And it was an acquired taste. Getting better with time.

She would breeze in and offer suggestions and feedback. Shane enjoyed watching the two “play” squabble over the choice of leaves. The kindly saloon owner and the girl he liked collaborating to make him a refreshing drink became a welcome nicety.

Most nights, they didn’t stay long. Heading out for long walks around town. Shoes scuffling along cobblestones. Kicking up dirt on wooded paths. Kicking off on the beach to feel the mushy sand. Talking about nothing important, but always special. Any time with her was special.

He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have a friend like her. To have a woman of her rare caliber show him any attention at all. She got past his defenses and he welcomed it. And deep in his heart, Shane knew - this was love.

With today’s paycheck, he could finally take her on a proper date. Somewhere out of the Valley. Someplace where they could have fun together. He felt the excitement and nervous anticipation rising in his chest. Somehow he fumbled through an “ask” on her front porch this morning, managing to invite her to join him... if she wanted... at the bus stop... around 5pm. He had tickets to see the Tunnelers play.

Shane finished his shelf, glancing at his watch. Ten past four. Just enough time to get home, showered, and changed. He disposed of the empty boxes in the dumpster and delivered the cart to the back room. Opening his locker, he hung his apron on the hook. Instantly, he felt lighter. Like that thing was a noose around his neck. A ball and chain. He really needed a new job. And in fifty, no, forty-six minutes, he could see her...

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"SHANE!"

The shrill obnoxious tone pierced his moment of peace. The voice could only belong to one person - a holllow husk of a corporate shill, even more unlikeable than him, if that was even possible. Shane frowned, his eyes clamping on the store manager barreling toward him at full speed.

“A whole second shipment came in just now,” the man grunted. “Like I need this when I’m short-staffed, as always,” he offered an exasperated sigh.

I can’t imagine why... Shane thought to himself, bemused. The boss was insufferable. Always barking orders. Never praising his team. Paying peanuts. Polishing his baby - a silver Rolls Royce in mint condition - parked in the only covered spot in the entire Joja lot - every night - instead of doing paperwork like he should. How was he still employed? No one at corporate cared.

“Not my problem, Morris,” Shane replied.

“No, no, no,” Morris fluttered his short arms. “It is your problem. I need you to stay late and help Sam empty the truck.”

The man continued to ramble something about “this is why I pay you” and “you think you can do better somewhere else?” He badgered Shane about his “work ethic,” even if Shane had been a near model employee since returning from rehab. Even if his former colleagues actually welcomed him back, much to his shock. Shy little Claire even commented on how he was “different” than before.

Shane had been nominated for employee of the month, no doubt, angering Morris. The man had it out for him. Sticking him on graveyard shifts. Making him mop baby puke in the aisles. Forcing him to attend a “hospitality” seminar so he could learn to be nicer to, in Morris’ words, “bored housewives who somehow like your prickly personality.”

Morris, a man who prided himself in appearance, with his neat little bow tie and perfectly ironed jacket, couldn’t believe how the ladies bought more after a rough encounter with Shane. It was good for business, of course, and Morris would take all the credit. That hospitality seminar wasn’t cheap, he constantly reminded Shane. Like rehab hadn’t made him a better person already. Or his relationship with little Miss Jolly.

“They just fawn over your monotone delivery of the daily sales,” Morris droned on. “Yoba only knows why. You haven’t been educated at the finest university this side of the Pond with an impeccable taste in... well, everything.” Morris puffed his chest.

“I just don’t understand why they giggle at the register about the ‘handsome’ stock boy when they could have me recite the daily sales in Shakespearean English for heavens sake. Well, no matter. I can use what I’ve got. You.”

The man thinks I’m a frickin’ pack of meat.

“Now in order to have sales, we must have stocked shelves. And in order to have stocked shelves, I need to have you stay longer. Because shelves don’t stock themselves... and what are you staring at?”

Shane rubbed his jaw, catching his reflection in Morris’ little glasses. Could I really be that handsome? Morris wasn’t wrong. The market had been a little busier than usual in the mornings and around lunchtime. Shane came back from breaks early sometimes because customers “requested” him. He could reach the “tall” shelves.

But he wasn’t that tall. And most times, he needed a ladder. Unlike Sam. But even Sam told him he had been relegated to “cute” because the female patrons wanted to check out the new guy (on the ladder) because Shane possessed a look of danger and mystery, and had that "hot dad bod."

Like that’s really a thing I wanted! Shane rolled his eyes. It's all a little disgusting. Being oogled. Because what? Dangerous? Dad bod? I’m just me. There was only one gal he wanted checking him out. And he needed to get going if he was going to meet her.

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“No can do, Boss,” Shane removed his Joja cap and hooked it alongside his apron. “Got plans tonight.”

“No, no, no,” Morris’ voice grew tight, his eyes becoming tinier. “That won’t do. You must cancel your plans.”

“Do I get overtime?” Shane asked, half-distracted by the photo occupying the inside of his locker.

It was the only thing he had ever decorated with at work. A photo of him and Miss Jolly at the Moonlight Jellies festival about a month ago. It was the one time he actually thought he was photogenic. How could he not be happy? With a gorgeous gal by his side, smiling and laughing as the photo was taken, a woman who believed in him, rooted for him, and cared for him. Shane’s expression softened as he thought about how much she had impacted his life.

“You know what?” Shane ripped the photo from his locker wall with gusto. “I quit.”

“Are you even listening?” Morris was saying. “And no, I’m not going to approve overtime. You left early by one minute the other night. One minute!"

"And one time last week, you were late by three minutes. I will not approve overtime for someone who nearly runs over a flock of geese with his bicycle and is late to work."

"If you’re going to keep up with this lazy attitude of yours...” he huffed and straightened his jacket. “I may have to reconsider my decision to rehire you... even if you bring in the ladies... I mean... sales...”

“What?” Morris’ eyes grew wide as saucers beneath his horn-rimmed glasses, and then his expression darkened, as if Shane poured bitter coffee all over the plates. “You cannot quit. Are you joking?”

“Well I do, and I’m not,” Shane shoved the old rusty lock that never latched properly into the other man’s hand, a smile crossing his face. “With pleasure.”

Shane waltzed out of the soul-sucking store, leaving a dumbfounded former boss as the double doors whooshed behind him. He closed his eyes and took a big gulp of sea-salt air and sighed. He felt free.

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When she met him at the bus stop, his heart skipped a beat. She looked radiant in the setting sun. Her eyes sparkling like stars. And her sexy little denim skirt was a nice touch too. The way her hips swayed ever so slightly on approach. He forced his gaze upward.

"Hiiii... Miss Jolly. I'm glad you decided to come," he greeted, his tone a bit stilted and formal.

What am I doing? He rubbed the back of his head.

"Of course, Peaches. I'm excited," she grinned. "This will be my first game."

"You'll love it!" he replied, wrinkling his nose at her childish nickname for him. And I will too with you by my side.

"Is that cologne?" she asked when she reached his side.

Her fingers curled around his hoodie strings as she closed her eyes and took a whiff. "I like it." She grinned and winked at him. "A bit spicy."

"Yeah yeah," he murmured and ushered her onto the bus, but he hopped up the step behind her, feeling a little lighter on his feet.

"You're in a good mood," she remarked as they wandered toward the back of the bus.

The atmosphere was charged. Rowdy. Everyone seemed excited for the Tunnelers game. He nodded to a few familiar faces before settling in next to her seat. The back was better than the front. Cool kids sat in the back. What am I? In the sixth grade?

Still he was relaxed. Smiling even. She repeated her statement as if he didn’t hear her the first time. Damn straight I’m in a good mood. Because I get to spend time with you… maybe even tell you how I feel tonight… He decided the overcrowded bus wasn't the best place for that confession. The vehicle lurched forward and so did the conversation.

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"I quit my job."

Her eyes widened and a slow smile played at her lips, drawing his attention to them. I bet they're juicy. He had fantasized about kissing her, ever since she planted one on him at this very bus stop twelve months ago when he shipped off to rehab. Out of respect for their “business arrangement” and friendship, he held off on the liplocking, but it didn’t mean he still didn’t wonder what it would be like if he had just turned his head to meet her mouth that night.

“Good for you,” she laid a hand on his shoulder.

Her gentle touch bringing him back to reality and away from his lustful la-la land.

“I knew that place was killing the light in you. I just wish I could've seen Morris' smug face when you finally told him."

"Light in me?" he repeated, ignoring the statement about his ex-manager.

"Yes," she slowly slid her hand up to his cheek, blushing a little while she moved. "You look better. Brighter."

"That's just the shower talkin'," he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"No, it's you, Shane," she replied, dropping her hand far too soon for his liking.

He wanted to beg her to keep it there, against his cheek. But present company dissuaded him, and he remained silent, nodding his thanks. The way she said his name... he bounced his leg a bit in nervousness as the bus bumped along the road... it made his knees weak and his head clouded.

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"Did I miss anything?"

Shane descended the last step, returning to their seats in the stadium, snacks in hand. The game was tied up, the teams neck and neck in their scoring with each other. It was one of the most thrilling games he had ever seen in person. Even more exciting because she was there. With her incessant questions about the rules. Her exuberance at the Tunnelers' first goal. Even the little wrinkle around her eyes when she didn’t understand what was happening. He loved every minute of it.

And he loved explaining things. Even if he worried about boring her to death with his encyclopedic knowledge of gridball, he couldn’t stop talking. This was something he loved and he was sharing it with the woman he loved... even if she didn’t know it yet.

"Only the announcer making bad jokes," she smirked. “And that guy...” she pointed to one of the pros. “...doing a silly little dance for the fans.”

“Yeah, he’s known for that,” Shane laughed awkwardly, feeling a small twinge of jealousy that another man had caught her eye.

“Not that he’s any good at it,” she laughed too. “Not like our little grooves in the Saloon.”

“Oh?” he quirked a brow. “By the way, I got us some nachos. I asked the vendor to add some hot peppers… just like we like it."

"Like we both like it," she said in unison. "Thanks,” she snagged a chip and did a deep dip into the sauce. “You should've let me pay for snacks since you paid for tickets and the bus fare."

"Naw, we're on a date," he shrugged. "The guy pays. Plus, I wanted to."

Shane averted his eyes, suddenly self-conscious. "Did I tell you how much… I l…love…. Gridball?"

She stopped and looked at him as if surprised by his old-fashioned thought. I shouldn't have been so careless, he grimaced. Then he immediately wished his face wasn't so readable.

It was a date. A real date. But somehow they slid from acquaintances to friends to best friends and then... somehow something more, without ever defining the relationship.

Did she want parameters? Did he need a label? Were they... ever going to be what he hoped to be if he ever got his head out of his ass and asked her for real?

"Yes, only the thousand or so times on the bus," she smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “And I knew you played in high school.”

Just like that, she slipped back to a more neutral topic. And he mentally flogged himself for the missed opportunity.

“Yeah, blowing out my knee pretty much killed my chances at playing pro,” he said. “Doesn’t stop me from enjoying the games though.”

“Have you ever thought about it?” she inquired. “Going back. Maybe the minors or even just a pick-up team. I bet you looked great in a uniform,” her eyes twinkled mischievously. “And I wouldn’t mind the view of you in those white pants.”

Red flooded his cheeks. Is she messing with me? How does she do it? Go back and forth between friendzone topics and flirtation? She made it look effortless. She was toying with him. She had to be. Dancing around the subject. Hoping he would ask. Or was he imagining things?

Her hand hovered dangerously close to his side. Brushing the hem of her skirt. Nearly touching his shorts. He gulped, feeling flattered, but strangely unprepared for her seductive little smirks. He handed her the soda he fetched, and she thanked him, gulping back the liquid as if it were a small instead of a large. Saying something about all the cheering making her thirsty.

He was the thirsty one. Eyeing her up and down and wanting to close the distance between them. Taking it from flirty friends to... faithful lovers. He never wanted a woman more than he did right now. To devote all his love and passion and energy and goodwill into being there for her just like she had for him.

For the whole second half of the game, he nursed his cola. Distracted by her every move. The way she would raise her heels in anticipation of a score and lower them back to the ground when they didn’t quite make it. The way she spoke with that happy voice of hers, the kind that could lull him to sleep or rally him to make his best efforts. The way she repeated back facts she was learning about the sport, that he had literally just taught to her that night. He was completely mesmerized... so much so... he forgot to actually watch the game. For once, he liked the distraction.

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When the Tunnelers scored again, she nearly flew off the ground, wildly cheering for their unexpected interception. He caught her hand as she was jumping back down. She squeezed it and continued whooping and shaking her fist victoriously in the air, never taking her eyes off the game. It was now or never.

"Hey," he said loudly to be heard over the stadium noise. "I've been meaning to tell you… thank you.”

“For what, Peaches?” she said, teasingly. “Did you see that? How many yards was it? Seventy-five? Eighty?”

“I mean it, really,” Shane cleared his throat, leaning closer to her ear. “ For sticking with me through everything."

She turned to face him, her expression growing more serious.

"My… anxiety… depression… you know," he continued, fumbling over his words. "The alcoholism… I mean, I wasn't exactly the funnest person to be around back then."

Did I just use the word funnest? He rubbed the back of his head, hoping to read her expression, but for once, he couldn't.

“You do that... when you’re nervous,” she remarked. “That head rub thing...” she reached up and ruffled his hair. “It’s... cute.”

“Uh...” Shane trailed off. She was not making this easy. But he needed to say the words aloud now or he never would.

"You… uh… still helped me. You've been a really… good… friend to me," he shared, and then immediately regretted his word choice.

"Oh," she said, quietly.

Was that a flicker of disappointment in her eyes?

He hurried his words. "Anyway this is your first gridball game, huh? Well? What do you think?"

Smooth, Shane. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Changing the subject again, you frickin’ chicken.

"Oh…" she said, glancing back to the field, sounding a little confused. "Fun. I guess, Pelican Town seems pretty boring in comparison. Unless you count Sam's punk rock blaring at 11pm, breaking noise ordinances." She forced a chuckle.

Is she…? Am I imagining things?

"I'm surprised," he replied. "Didn't you move to the Valley to escape the noise of the city?"

She's looking at me again with those beautiful heart-melting eyes. He rushed through his words.

"I mean… don't get me wrong. I totally understand. My life in Pelican Town is pretty bland, you know. And now that I don't have a job, I gotta find something meaningful to do with my time again. A guy's gotta eat, right? Heh?"

"I was thinking about that," she replied, without looking at him. "I think it would be nice to have you around full-time."

"What?" he blinked.

"I've got one ranch hand now to help in the back pasture and one that helps out with the milking and all, but if I'm looking to expand, and if they ever take a sick day, I could use some extra hands," she continued. "Maybe your hands?"

I couldn't. Possibly. Was she blushing?

"You've already… done so much for me," he hated the hesitancy in his tone. "I… uh…"

She ignored his last comment. "This would be a business thing. We could do it temporarily to see if you like it. And if it's a good fit for both of us. I can be a bit of a…" she narrowed her eyes, mischievously. "Hard taskmaster."

"Oh? Yeah I've heard that from your current employees," he smirked. "But you are still a jolly one."

"Yeah…" she smiled, almost shyly, tucking a hair over her ear. “Your Miss Jolly.”

The noise level in the stadium increased near ten-fold. All he could think about was how she said the words. She was begging him, wasn’t she? Walking right up to the brink and leaving him there? He reluctantly ripped his gaze away from the farmer to the field.

"Gah!" he screamed, his volume matching the crowd. "The Tunnelers are on the attack."

"Yes! Yes!" she shrieked. "Oh my Yoba! Final seconds. They're gonna…" she jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "They're gonna break the tie."

"GOAL!" they yelled in unison.

He never felt so happy. He was going on six months sober. He quit his horrible job. The farmer was offering him another one so he could see her every day. And he got to watch his favorite team in the world in the closest game in history with his favorite person in the world. Sharing this moment together meant everything.

"Thank you Shane!" she said, trying to catch her breath. "This was the best evening ever with you!"

"I know, I know!" he exclaimed. "Probably one of the best moments of my life."

Before he could stop himself, his lips were against hers. Surprise flickered in her eyes. All he could hear was the thudding of his own heart. She was flushed. The warmth of her lips. The taste of root beer. The delight overwhelming the alarm bells. He took a step or two back, stumbling as he came to his senses.

"Oh?" he gasped for air. "Uh… um… sorry. I guess I got carried away there. Maybe I had one too many... sodas. All that sugar. Ha!"

Shane reached up to rub his head like he always did when he was nervous, just like she had noticed. Except this time, she strutted toward him, confidence in her eyes as she grabbed that hand and tugged him down. As they kissed for the second time, he felt her melt into his arms as she offered a faint “finally,” barely audible amidst the roar of the crowd.

Encouraged, Shane grinned, hoisting her off the ground. She giggled and kissed him more fervently. Maybe he didn’t need words. Maybe he only needed actions to show her how he felt.

And she was reciprocating. A dream come true. Their eyes remained locked in a loving gaze as he pulled back from her lips. When he finally set her down, he breathed heavily.

"You really do love the Tunnelers?" she teased, disentangling her hands from his hair.

"No," he shook his head, determined not to let this moment go by. "I really do love you."

"Come on, we'll miss our bus outta here," she grabbed his hand and pulled him through the exiting crowds.

“Wait,” Shane pulled her back for one more greedy kiss.

She happily accepted, but he felt a fleeting ping of sadness even as they kissed in the stairwell, people pushing around them. He wondered if she even heard his confession. Maybe it's too soon? We just had our first kiss. She probably didn't hear me.

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When they reached the parking lot, the reality of what had just happened still sinking in, they were too late. The bus huffed away with a puff of smog. They had just missed their ride back to the Valley. And there wouldn’t be another one until morning. If he hadn’t been so carried away and enamored by his date, maybe they would’ve left the stadium sooner.

“Guess we should call a taxi,” she broke the silence first. “Or... actually... find a hotel.”

“A hotel?” he repeated, his ears perking at the thought of sharing space with her.

"Yes," she replied, without skipping a beat. "I mean, if we're gonna be stuck together in Zuzu overnight, we should get a hotel. A taxi ride would be really expensive and I don't think we have enough time to get across town to catch the train."

"Oh right," he said softly. "Uh… I can't let you pay for a hotel too."

"It's no trouble," she pulled out her cell phone and started scouring the internet for places. "And a hot shower sounds nice after all the sweat and grime of us in there,” she nodded back toward the stadium. “...jammed in like sardines."

"Uhm…" he blinked rapidly. You're a grown man. Get it together.

"This place looks nice," she showed him a picture after a minute or two, while he awkwardly plopped on the edge of the sidewalk. "And it's got a 4-star rating." She sat next to him, dropping her hand on top of his. “Oh look it’s got an in-suite jacuzzi.”

"Uh… sure," he shrugged, uncertain about what to do with his hands that so desperately wanted to kiss her again. "Well, that definitely was a good game."

"Yes, and it's going to be an even better night, because it doesn't have to end here," she smiled sweetly. “Since we’re getting a hotel,” she winked.

“Oh yeah... and we won too,” he stammered. “The Tunnelers, ya know?”

“No... no, I didn’t. Really? They did?" she smiled sarcastically, and leaned closer. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What?” he gasped, feeling shocked as her blase attitude toward his favorite team.

“I mean, it was great... and all... and their win was pretty spectacular,” she acknowledged. “But I feel like I won the lottery with you here.” She interlocked arms with him. “Did you mean it? Shane? When you said you loved me?”

So she did hear me! And the way his name fell from his lips caused his heart to soar and he found his confidence.

“Yes, I meant it. I love you,” Shane replied. “But I wanted it to be special. Better than this... stranded in a parking lot with trash all over the place.”

“It is special,” she replied.

“But it wasn’t perfect,” he grimaced. “I was planning on telling you when we got back... when I walked you back to your place tonight.”

His head felt hazy with love and desire as she kissed him again. This time, she draped a leg over his, pressing against his chest. He audibly moaned, leaning into the kiss. His hand naturally slid down her back to help her balance, and he squeezed softly, like he had wanted to for a long time. She matched his intensity with a clutch of her own, and he groaned again, reluctantly breaking their touch.

“I don’t need perfect, Shane. I just need you."

His heart leaped from his chest as she continued.

"I love you too. I want you.”

“Ahhhh... then let’s get to that hotel,” he said, the heat of her breasts against his chest creating a near uncontrollable fire within him.

“Fine,” she playfully pouted. “I’ll behave... Hot Stuff," she fanned herself. “...for now... since we’re in public.”

“Believe me,” he replied with a heavy sigh, feeling a healthy growth between his legs. “I want you all to myself.”

She giggled and tapped her phone. "Done. Got us booked.”

“That fast?”

“Yes, It’s only a two and a half block walk. Now… shall we?" She jumped to her feet and darted away briskly.

“Someone’s impatient!” he smirked. “What if I had said no?”

“I wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Oh really?” he liked teasing her as she brought out his confidence. He started into a jog away, passing her on the sidewalk. “Well, I’ll see you soon.”

“Shane!” she laughed and chased after him.

Of course, he let her catch him. She playfully punched his arm, but then lingered. She was beaming. And he was too. Shane took her hand, looking down at the woman he loved, and smiled, brighter than he ever had in his entire life. She loved him and wanted him… just as he loved and wanted her.

“Shane?”

He wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulder. Tonight, he was going to make her fully his, and he would be fully hers.

"Yes, my Miss Jolly.”

593 notes · View notes

itsohh · 6 months

Text

Flying Too Close to the Sun

AN: Female reader, I wrote this before the comic came out but made some adjustments for it to kinda fit.

Summary: After leaving Rainbow years prior, Sam brings you back to help with the Deimos situation. As as warden your there to make sure he stays contained but things end up far messier than you exspect when he takes an intrest in you.

Word count: 6746

Warnings: Dubcon, noncon bondage, smut

Masterlist AO3

Greece 2020

“All I ask is that you give it a go-”

“No!” You threw our hands up into the air. Sam's eyes remained on you as he watched from the corner of the room. His arms were folded and he leaned against the wall. Your relationship with the man was rather new and fresh. Sam had only known you for a short while whereas Harry had known you since you arrived at Rainbow years prior.

Harry's face seemed rather controlled but there was a certain edge to his voice. He was aware that one wrong move could affect everything. Usually, you were so open-minded, he had expected this resilience from someone like Taina but not you.

“This is too much Harry. Our job was never made for an audience, to be blasted over huge screens. It wasn't made for civilians to see. How many thousands would know us?” You pointed out the window to the rest of the stadium. “Our enemies get a perfect view into our skills, our weaknesses, our numbers, our faces- everything.”

“I assure you, all of that has been accounted for. Every person that comes through those gates will have been background checked but if it would make you more comfortable perhaps we could change your uniform and name.”

“No. I've made my mind up here. I think it's time that I head home. Rainbow’s been a great place for me and I've learnt a lot but I think it's better that I put this information to good use back home.” You pulled some paper from inside your jacket and placed it on the table.

It was now clear that you had made your mind up before speaking to Harry.

“I understand.” Harry nodded and took the paper from you.

“If you ever need me in the future for something proper, don't hesitate to call.” You looked towards Sam for a moment. “But something tells me you shouldn't need to. You have quite the team here.”

England 2024

The umbrella above you protected you from the sun's harsh rays. In front of you was a glass of juice and a bowl of hot chips. Your sunglasses helped with the sun and you didn't look up when someone sat down from across you.

Sam Fisher.

“Long time no see.” You pushed the chips towards him and he promptly took one. “Heard about Harry, my condolences.”

“Yeah, thanks. Saw you're doing well.”

“Well for this kind of work but I assume you didn't call me all this way just for small talk.”

Sam placed a folder on the table and slid it over to you. You wiped the salt from your fingers and picked it up.

“Gerald Morris…” You muttered the name under your breath, only loud enough for Sam to barely hear.

Your eyes absorbed all the information in front of you as you leaned back on your chair. All the meanwhile Sam dug into the food.

“So you got him, sounds like it took a lot but you did. Why call me?” You slapped the folder shut and placed it back on the table.

“Aside from our newer operators, you're more detached from the situation. I imagine he knows less about you than anyone else.” Sam leaned back and your brows narrowed.

“I'm your wildcard?”

“So to speak. Harry always knew you would have your part to play one day and I believe it's this.”

“And what is this Sam?”

“...Rainbow is split about his presence. There's a very real possibility that someone may take justice into their own hands which is exactly what he wants.” He let out a sigh and rubbed his face.

“I want to assign him to your care.”

“My care? I'm not going to be babysitting a terrorist.” Your eyes cast down for a second. “Besides, he could easily overpower me.”

“Not like that.” He placed another folder on the table that you took.

“Azami. She joined after you left-”

“-Private sector? I didn’t realize you guys were hiring mercs…” You muttered, your disapproval obvious.

“Rainbow's purpose has changed over the years. When did you join?” It was an answer Sam already knew but you answered him regardless.

“2018. Amelia brought me along due to my marksmanship experience in urban settings.”

“Integral skills to have when the outbreak claimed more territory. Skills you shared with the rest of the team and in turn, they shared their skills with you. The same can go with cases like Azami in the private sector. She has her own unique experience.”

“Alright alright, I get it. Why do you bring her up then?”

“She's one of the people we are concerned about. She's been going to the holding facility more and more.”

“You're worried she will kill him in custody?”

“Her and several other operatives. I don't think they will but I can't discredit the possibility. I want you to make sure that never happens. Gustave feels the same.”

“What makes you think I won't just kill him? I mean I wasn't super close to Harry but he was still a friend.”

He tossed a chip in his mouth and sat there for a moment. “You won't.”

Rainbow had changed a lot since you left which meant you received a completely different dorm room than you used to have. Not that it really mattered, you had taken everything personal with you. The new room you received was one of the ones in the holding facility. It wasn't a dorm room but its own special room. You had one job and that was clear. In a way, you were like a warden to Gerald and Gerald only.

You had to admit, the room was rather secure. It was a safe room in a sense. Sure you didn't have the best views or anything but that hardly mattered when you were so close to a man that would most definitely kill you at any opportunity.

In all honesty, you didn't bring much with you. While you knew that Sam might need your help for a while you figured eventually you leave again and it was best not to get too attached. A knock at the door had you stand up from the bed.

You opened it to find Sam standing there with clothes in his hands. They were neatly folded and had a couple of things balanced on top.

“What's this?” You asked.

He placed the pile on your desk. “New ID.” He waved it and snapped it on the table.

“Uniform.”

You looked towards the Ghosteyes uniform and cocked a brow.

“Thought I was just going on guard duty.”

“Need an excuse to be here officially, wear it or don't at least have the ID with you. “

You took the ID and clipped it to your current shirt. It was a slightly faded black shirt with NZSAS printed across. The shirt didn't have any pockets so you clipped it to your slightly stretched collar.

Sam carried a sort of understanding look with you. The pair of you hadn't known each other very long before you left Rainbow but there was a sort of mutual understanding that was shared. Trust. Why he trusted you was beyond your understanding, perhaps it was something that Harry said to him before he died.

“This here is your pager.”

“Pager?”

“No one's to go into Deimos’s holding without you there to supervise. That includes team leaders. Your job is to make sure that Deimos is there and alive.”

“Alright.”

“All the team leaders know your back but not everyone else does.”

Just as you were about to reply the pager started to beep and Sam tilted his head to the side for a second.

“Better get moving then.”

Sam briefed you on how interrogations were still ongoing even if they admittedly didn't get very far. The room that Deimos was restricted to was rather large but rather empty. It was by no means a great place to stay but it wasn't inhumane. “Eliza, long time no see.”

“Icarus.” She didn't quite smile but there was a level of familiarity that the pair of you shared. “I'm glad that out of everyone Sam brought you back.”

“Well, when he begged me how could I say no?” You walked up to the door and flashed your ID against the reader and the door opened with a click.

“Interrogation?”

“Yeah, doing it here.”

You opened the door for her and nodded. “Be my guest. The door closed behind you and you leaned against it. Eliza was the one to approach the man who was lying on his bed. Through the glass, you could see everything. His legs were leisurely up and he had a book in his hand. By the sight of it, it seemed he only had one book and had most definitely read it a few times already.

He wasn't quick to talk to Eliza but there was a pause in his movement when his face turned towards you.

“Well, now there's a face I didn't expect to see. Here I thought you were the one person who had managed to escape Rainbow.” He scoffed and sat up. “Just another one of Harry's puppets then.”

“I get why Sam brought me on board.” You muttered to Eliza.

“Sam bring you on board? And why is that sweetheart?”

“To make sure I don't kill you.” Eliza loomed over the man but he just let out a laugh.

“Can't trust your own people? Can't say I blame him.”

So became the rhythm of your babysitting job. It didn't end up being too bad, as Deimos was often let out of his cage for training. A weird thing but it seemed to get a few results even if it was at the cost of morale.

Then it happened. The alarm. A blaring alarm that rang halfway through the night. You bolted awake and grabbed what you deemed necessary. Your ID and your guns. Your usual Barrett on your shoulder and a revolver on your side. The cold concrete floor did little to hinder your speed as you made your way towards Deimos’s room.

To your relief when you arrived he was still there, the same way he always was. On that damn bed. You clicked the door open and grabbed a pair of cuffs from outside of his room. “On your knees Gerald.”

“First name basis are we?” He scoffed and turned to you. Not one for his games, you aimed the gun at his leg.

“I was told to keep you alive- not in healthy shape. Now be a good boy and follow instructions.”

“You’re playing with fire girl.” He finally swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Hands behind your back.” He followed your instructions and you were quick to cuff him.

“Going somewhere?” He asked.

“No.” You locked the door from the inside and found your spot behind him. You pulled the gun from your back and he made a small sound.

“Nice pyjamas girly. We should swap sometime.”

“They say you never talk much in interrogations and yet ever since I've been here I can never get you to shut up.” You hissed.

He let out a laugh. “You? Oh you I like. Such a fire, never afraid to say it how it is. A real shame you came back to Rainbow. Here I thought I wouldn't have to put you in the ground like the rest of your group.”

“For starters-” You locked your gun in place and steadied it over his shoulder. “I'm not part of Rainbow. I'm doing this as a favour. And secondly, you think you're ever leaving this hell hole your dead wrong.”

“Oh sweetheart, I don't have to leave here to watch you all die. It's already begun.”

“Yes yes, your going to kill us all. Cool story, now don't move.”

The pair of you stayed like that for five minutes before you heard it. The massive explosion that burst the door into smithereens but done in a way that would protect anyone inside.

Out from the dust, someone appeared- someone you didn't recognise. Without hesitation, you pulled the trigger and Deimos deliberately bumped his shoulder up. It was something you had predicted.

“I told you not to move.”

“Your aim was off.” He spoke innocently with a nonchalant voice.

“Yes because I figured you would pull some shit like that.”

His chuckle vibrated next to you and he slightly leaned his head towards you. “I swear to god Deimos…”

“Have I been anything but the model prisoner?” His voice was mocking and came out as a purr.

Even though it wasn't necessary, you removed the mag and reloaded. The movements were intentionally harsh to jolt around Deimos before you slammed the gun down on his shoulder again.

The small grunt he made when you did so didn't go unnoticed and the corner of your lips curled up. The great thing about the design of the holding area was that in order for someone to reach you they would be forced to come down the very long hallway.

You cursed when a bunch of smoke rolled into the hallway and filled the room. Unlike Timur, you were unable to see through it and your jaw clenched.

Thankfully Deimos stayed quiet and allowed you to focus. Any movement you saw you were to shoot on, your ears listened for the movement in the smoke but just as they neared you a familiar suppressed gun went off.

The smoke started to clear and you were quick to start your fire. Precise singular shots were all you needed. The bodies dropped to the ground and a moment passed. The smoke fully cleared and you started to stand up from your spot behind Deimos. “Do hurry back.”

You rolled your eyes and met your savoir at the door. “Taina. Good to see you on your feet.”

“Icarus.” She nodded your way and approached the open door.

“Thanks for the backup, you did a good flank.”

“Not that you needed it huh?” Deimos mouthed off behind you. Strangely, it was a little flattering he thought so highly of you but then again perhaps he was being sarcastic. It was hard to know with a man like him.

“How's the rest of the base?”

“On high alert, they broke through the east side as a distraction but things are quickly coming under control. I can handle him if you need a moment.” Taina offered as her eyes scanned your rather under-dressed outfit.

“I'm good, you stay up ahead.” You politely smiled.

“Are you sure? Deimos is… be careful around him.”

“I always am.” Despite your refusal, you noticed her foot still crept into the room.

“He's a bastard and a liar. Don't trust a word he says.”

At her tone, your hand went to the side arm that you had strapped on your hip. Immediately Taina noticed how you went for the revolver and her brows narrowed.

Still, your hand hovered there. “Taina just go.”

“Are you planning to do something?” She accused.

“No- I'm not. But your hesitancy to leave is making me worried. I appreciate the help I do but please just go up ahead.”

“No.”

At her refusal, you pulled the revolver out and aimed it at her. “Don't make this harder.”

“Why are you so protective of him?”

“Because it's my job. Sam's orders, shoot anyone who may kill Deimos. He wants him alive and gods above help me. Don't back me into a corner here Cav.”

Then she took a step back and put her hands up. “I understand. I just wanted to see where your loyalty lay.” She nodded your way and disappeared away from the room.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you found your way back to behind Deimos and ran a hand through your hair.

“All this fuss for little ol’ me…”

“Shut the fuck up, Gerald.”

After Taina left you didn't see anyone else for about half an hour. Not until Eliza showed up with Sam in tow. “Didn't secure him down?” She cocked a brow at you.

“If he runs I shoot out his ankles.” You could feel Deimos’s gaze on you. “Jobs to keep him alive not keep him walking.”

“Heard that you had an altercation with Taina.”

“I don't take chances.”

Eliza gave you a single nod and looked towards Sam for a moment.

A silent conversation took place between the pair of them before Sam spoke up. “Go get some rest. We can take care from here.”

Your tense shoulders dropped slightly and you nodded in response. “Will do.”

A week later you lay in your bed, eyes trained on the ceiling. Each breath was long and drawn out. Despite your clock reading three in the morning you couldn't help but lie there completely awake.

There wasn't any logical reason to back up that gut feeling that formed and festered in your chest. A tightness that had your entire body tense. Something wasn't right. After giving up and finally getting to your feet you snatched your phone off the side table.

You pulled on an old hoodie and dumped your phone in the pocket. A torch and your revolver were the next two things on the agenda. Mentally you promised yourself, just one check-up on the man and then you would go back to sleep.

There hadn't been any alarms and Deimos had seemed the same annoying self when you had last seen him. It was beyond any logic that something would be going on.

Your slippers made little sound on the polished floor as you made your way by torchlight. The way to Deimos’s room had long since been ingrained in your mind even though he changed rooms.

Yet when you neared you weren't met with the darkness of his asleep. The door that spanned the long hallway was open and a small crack of light escaped it. You turned off the light from your torch and slipped out of your slippers. Slowly you crept down it, your hand flexed and curled around the hammer of the revolver.

Then you saw them. Jessica, you believed her name was. She was part of IT staff. There was something connected to the electronic card reader and his door was open. Their voices were hushed to the point where you couldn't hear them. Without hesitation, you pressed the silent alarm on the wall.

The door behind you swung closed and locked. The sound drew their attention and the first thing you saw was Jessica's face, then it was the pistol in her hand.

A large bang echoed through the rooms and she fell to the ground with a hiss. There wasn't a single hesitation in your movement. The shot had caught her directly between the eyes and her body crumbled to the ground instantly.

Deimos ducked behind the thick doorframe out of view. “You never should have got out of bed sweetheart.” His voice was a mocking purr.

“Stay in your room, Gerald.”

“Room? This cell? I don't think so.”

Something flew from the inside of his room and you swore out and covered your eyes as the flashbang went off. Disorientated, you stumbled when you felt a sudden impact. His hand wrapped around your wrist and slammed it against the wall. Despite the pain that had you gasp out, your tightened and your finger pulled the trigger.

You slammed your head forward against his and went to knee him. Yet when your knee made contact one of his hands grabbed your thigh while he used your off balance and the weight of his body to force you onto the ground.

Again he slammed your wrist but this time against the ground. Two more times and your grip loosened enough to fall from your grasp. Deimos snatched your gun and you went deathly still when the barrel pressed against the bottom of your jaw.

“Nice gun you got here. LFP586, one shot from this and there's no coming back from it. Can't help but wonder where you got this.”

Silence stayed between the pair of you when you didn't answer him. He let out a small chuckle and you could practically hear the rolls in his eyes as he spoke.

“You can talk I won't bite. Where'd you get the gun girly?”

“A bunch of operators use it. I don't know why you're surprised.”

He let out a tut. “Now it's rather a standard issue in GIGN but you're not GIGN are you? I can't recall such a weapon being on NZSAS’s artillery.”

You swallowed and pressed your lips together. It was actually rather good that he was talking, perhaps you could stall enough time for someone to show up.

“Now, last time- because I hate repeating myself, why does a girl like you have a gun like this?”

“It was a gift. I've always preferred accuracy over quantity.”

“A gift huh?” You felt him twist the gun against your skin as he looked at it. “It seen a lot of combat hasn't it? Who gifted it to you?”

“Gustave did.” The words were a whisper on your lips.

“Why?”

“A thank you from when we worked together in New Mexico.”

“Oh, I heard all about that. Viral outbreak wasn't it? So much fuss.”

Your eyes shot to his and your lips sealed. It was classified information. He could be bluffing about it but the thought that he had such classified information has your heartbeat quicken.

“Well I'm not one to steal a gift so let's say thank you for letting me borrow it.”

“Mind the kick. I'm sure the recoil is something new for you.” You spat the words out with venom but that just seemed to make the man happier.

“ Now there's that fire I love. ” He grabbed you by the middle of your hoodie and pulled you off the ground. With the gun pressed against your head, you didn't dare try to get out of his grasp. Anyone else you might had but not Deimos. He was far too unpredictable and you couldn't lie that he was far better at hand-to-hand combat than you were.

The door cracked open and you looked towards the silhouette. “Looks like someone else came to play. Nap time birdy.” Deimos voice was barely a warning before the hammer of your gun slammed against your head.

Would have it been better if you stayed in bed?

A groan left your lips as you woke up. Despite your arms being restricted behind your back you were able to sit up from your lain form. “Perfect timing to wake up.”

Slowly you blinked a few times and turned toward the voice. Deimos placed a tray on the ground next to you. In a surprising amount of gentleness, he pressed his fingers against your head. It was directed where he had hit you. The flash of pain had a hiss escape from your lips as you pulled it away from his touch.

“It's bruised but you can handle that.”

You glared at the man as he crouched in front of you. “I'd like my gun back now thanks.” The words were gritted from your teeth and while you knew he wouldn't return the gun it was more of an expression of how you felt more than anything.

“I'm afraid your colleagues dealt with that when I decided to stretch my legs. You're lucky you got out in one piece.”

He sat down on the floor properly and leaned in. “Trust me, I thought you would be a good little hostage but they were rather determined to stop me even if it meant taking you down with me.”

He picked up a chip from the plate and brought it to your lips. “You should be thanking me really.”

“Fuck you. Bastard. They were right to try and kill you.”

“Even if it meant killing you in the process?”

“Yes.” Your lips snapped shut as he held it there.

“Open up sweetheart.”

You glared at the man in response. With a huff, he removed the mask from his face and placed it on the ground next to him. His lips parted and he slipped the chip between them. All the while he kept eye contact. He bit into it and slowly chewed before he swallowed.

“See, I wouldn't try and poison you.”

“Who said I thought it was poisoned? Maybe I'm not hungry.”

“It's been two days. Eat.”

“You knocked me out for two days?!”

“No. I sedated you for easier handling and now it's finally worn off.” His voice was rather nonchalant and it wasn't until you jerked your head away that his stance tensed.

“I don't know why you bothered. I'm not going to tell you squat even if I did know anything.” You hissed.

Deimos chuckled and his hand reached for your face. His thumb gently stroked your cheek while his eyes roamed over the rest of your face.

��Oh, I know you won't. There's not a thing in this world that you could say about Rainbow that I don't already know.”

“Then why bother at all? Why not just leave me there or kill me?”

“I'll tell you a secret little birdy.” He leaned in closer and his voice grew quiet. Not that it changed much, it was only the pair of you in the room. “I've grown rather fond of you and I think I'll keep you.”

Blood drained from your face as your lips grew dry. The realization hit you that you had no type of leverage against the man. If he wanted information at least you could hold out on that.

“The feelings not mutual. I'd rather die.”

Again he laughed and tutted at you. “Now sweetheart I don't think that's entirely true. If there's one thing I can do it's read someone and you’re an open book. You can deny it all you like but I think the feeling is rather mutual even if you can't say it.”

“Fuck you!” You slammed your head forward against him. He let out a grunt and fell back. In his dazed state, you were quick to move. You rocked your body and jumped to your feet. With your hands secured around your back there wasn't much you would be able to do. Lucky enough the cuffs were just long enough for you to jump over them like a backwards skipping rope.

You pounced on the man and used the chain to strangle him. To stop him from flipping you over, you leaned back and let gravity control your body. Deimos clawed at the chain for a second before his head suddenly flicked back and he went prone on the ground. The movement was quick enough for him to slip from your chain and recover.

You stumbled back and readied yourself for his retaliation as he got to his feet. Deimos clicked his neck side to side but he didn't seem overly upset, instead, he seemed rather amused.

A knife flashed from him and you took a step back to create a gap between the pair of you. “That wasn't very nice.” He clicked his tongue.

The knife swiped down and you used the joint of the cuffs to parry it. It collided with a loud metallic sound that had your eyes go wide as he pushed down. A grunt left your lips, the man was far stronger than he looked.

The bastard had the nerve to wink at you before he twisted the blade. It coiled the chain around it and he yanked you towards him. Anticipating your forced movement towards him, he tapped the back of your neck and forced you against the wall. He untangled the knife and slipped it up so it rested against your neck.

He stood behind you and sandwiched you between the wall. The warmth of his chest pressed against your back and you could feel his breath against your ear. “They'll come for you Gerald.” You cursed his name.

“Rainbow?” He laughed and pressed against you harder. “How long did it take them the first time? Your presence changes nothing. Well, for them anyway.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“To me, your presence changes everything. ”

His knife trailed down against your throat until it reached your chest. It was pressed just hard enough to cut into the fabric.

“You're sick.” Your teeth were glued together and you didn't dare to move. Deimos’s lips brushed against your ear and for a moment you swore he kissed just beneath it.

“No, no, no. You see, I'm very good at picking up people's micro-expressions and I know you. In the last few weeks, I've learnt to know you very well. Like I said, I don't think you hate this as much as you say. I reckon if I were to dip my fingers into that cunt of yours it would be soaking-”

“Fuck you!”

The knife suddenly tore through the rest of your shirt and you managed to clutch your shirt together.

“As I was saying. If I found you before they did you would have been singing my praise long ago birdy.”

This time when he kissed you, it was far more prevalent. His lips slowly pressed against the side of your neck and slightly sucked on it as he enjoyed the taste of you.

He pulled the knife away and tucked it back into his sheath before you felt his large hand cover one of yours. It curled around your hand and forced you to grope your breast with him.

“Don't worry sweetheart. I won't force you to admit it.”

Your breath hitched and he paused his movement.

“But I'm nothing but a man of honour. You tell me to stop and I will.”

“I've read what you've done. You wouldn't know what honour is if you looked it up in a dictionary.”

“You're probably right but I'm still a man of my word. Stay stop and I will.”

“You're a bastard.”

His hand pushed yours upward and he replaced them. The inside of his fingers punched your nipple while he continued to palm it. Gerald's hips ground against your ass.

“I'm not hearing a no.”

You could practically hear his smirk against your skin and when you went to open your mouth all that escaped was a small moan that only egged on him more.

“Yeah? Do you feel that? Mmm, this is where a girl like you belongs. Pressed against me not worry 'bout anything.” His hand travelled down and didn't hesitate when it reached your pyjama pants. Gerald's hand slipped beyond the waistband and found the prize that was your wet cunt. His fingers slipped against the entrance with ease and started to tease your entrance.

“Fuckin’ soaked. Was it just me or does being manhandled get you that worked up?”

“I…”

“Shh shh shh. I've got you. you don't have to pretend. It's just us here. Just us.”

Two fingers curled inside of you but didn't move anymore. For a moment the pair of you just stood there completely still. The gravity of the situation started to dawn on you but you couldn't help the way that your head started to feel dizzy from his scent alone.

He was such a man who commanded control of every situation. That natural scent was almost overpowering. You hadn't ever really noticed it even when you were in his room but now he was slow close it was impossible to escape.

Would it stay on you long after his touch was gone? Would it claim you as his? Gerald's fingers retreated from you and you wondered if he had changed his mind. Had he sensed some type of hesitation from you? He pulled back slightly and turned you to face him.

From there his eyes made contact with yours and he cupped your cheek with his palm. This time it was you who moved. Slowly you moved your hands up and his head tilted ever so slightly. It was obvious that he was interested in what you were doing and didn't make any attempt to stop you. His hand slipped from your face and allowed you to continue raising your hands up.

You hooked your wrists over his head and rested them on the back of his neck. Carefully, you pulled him into you and his lips Glady made contact with yours. The floodgates opened as Gerald early kissed you.

His mouth consumed yours in opened mouth gasps and he bent down slightly before he grabbed your thighs and picked you up with ease. Automatically you wrapped your legs around his waist as you lost yourself in his lips.

Gerald held you there with ease, his hands feeling up your ass as he did so. When your lips parted for air he bit down slightly on your bottom lip and dragged it for a second. That smirk was still on his face.

Your eyes kept contact while you let out small pants. He shifted your weight so it was more against the wall and allowed himself to hold you up with only one hand. Gerald pulled out that knife again and before you could say a word he sliced through the seams of your crotch.

“The fact you came to me with no underwear on. Naughty girl.”

“I'm in my pyjamas- ”

He cut your voice off as he placed the flat blade against your cunt. The coolness had your brain rewire and you let out a small strained sound. His tongue flicked over his teeth and the blade was gone. Gerald paused for a moment and pulled open his belt with ease.

Then you felt it. You looked down to see his thick cock press against your entrance. The head strained for a second but then it slid in with ease. A shiver spread across your body and you griped onto his shoulders for dear life. You couldn't separate your hands very much and so they brushed against his neck as your nails dug in.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you threw your head back against the wall as he continued to push in.

“Uh uh ah.” His thumb pushed on your chin. “Look at it. Eyes open sweetheart.” His voice wasn't mocking but one full of authority. It was a command that you obeyed without question. Your eyes looked down to see your cunt swallow his cock up. It took everything he pushed in until he was completely sheathed inside.

All thoughts had long since left your head as he slightly readjusted himself and grabbed you with both hands again. With his grip secured he pulled you slightly away from the wall so that when he started to move you, your back didn't scrape against the concrete wall.

There wasn't any warning. One moment you were filled stretched to the brim and then the next moment he was gone only for him to slam back in as he bounced you on his dick. A cry left your mouth and you pulled on his neck with the link. Your face buried in his shoulder as he continued that brutal pace.

Sure you had been fucked before but this was something different. Every bone in your body had turned into putty that he could meld by his will alone. Each time he re-entered it felt as overwhelming and consuming as the first. You swore you could feel him to your very core, all the way up to your chest.

“I've got you birdy. That's it.” He purred in your ear and continued to praise you but you couldn't hear much due to the pounds of blood that echoed in your ears.

The pair of you stayed there for god knows how long. Just him fucking you on his cock like a toy. He didn't stop even when you clenched down around him. He didn't stop when tears fell from your eyes and he didn't stop as you gushed around him.

Gerald successfully managed to drain all energy from you by the time your cunt drained his cock. The kisses he placed on your head afterwards felt distant like he was on another planet. You didn't have the time nor the energy to think about the situation. All you could do was collapse fully limp in his arms.

Slowly you opened your eyes. Instead of the cell you had been subjected to, you found yourself rather cozied up in a large bed. For a brief second, you thought it was only a dream but as you blinked and looked around the room you realized you weren't familiar with your surroundings.

You looked to the side only to see your reflection in a mirror that decorated the wall. In the reflection, you were met with the image of yourself. No longer were you in your pyjamas, instead you had a black shirt on and a pair of sweatpants. The shirt didn't fit quite right and you wondered if it was one of Gerald's. It certainly smelt like it.

The gears turned in your head and your eyes went wide. You saw the figure at the bed next to you and you spun around to see him asleep. The gravity of the situation crushed down on you and you swallowed. Slowly you got up out of the bed and your eyes went to his gun that was placed on his bedside table.

No way he would leave it out right? It was surely a trap. It would at least be empty right? Either way, it was a weapon. His knife would be better. Yet as you looked on the floor you couldn't find it.

You tiptoed over to the other side of the bed and silently picked it up. He didn't stir. You flicked open the chamber and your heart raced as you found that there were in fact bullets in there. Just to make sure you pulled back one bullet to check they weren't blanks.

They weren't.

“What are you planning to do with that birdy?”

Your eyes snapped to Gerald. He was propped against the headboard and leaned back against one hand. With the blanket no longer covering him, you could now see his shirtless form.

You aimed the gun at him and he didn't seem surprised.

“I should kill you.” You hissed but couldn't stop the slight shake of your hands. Most people wouldn't notice it but he wasn't most people.

“And why’s that?”

“You killed people.”

“And you haven't?”

“You killed innocents, you killed your own people. You killed Harry.”

“Harry was a cancer to this world. Even you should understand. After all, you left him.”

“Yeah, I left! I didn't fucking kill him for it. You were already gone- hell you killed your own team. You of all people don't have any right to lecture.”

“I did what was right to stop-”

“-You became the very thing you were supposed to stop.”

Gerald weighed his head and pulled back the blankets from the bed. You took a step back and watched as he got to his feet.

“Don't move.”

He ignored your command and continued forward until his chest met with the barrel of the gun. He grabbed your hand and instead of pushing your hand away, he pulled it up. The barrel rested against his forehead and he stared intensely into your eyes.

“If you're going to shoot, you better not miss.”

His hand didn't leave yours though. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles as if he were comforting you. The soft gentle touch was such a contradiction to the rough merciless man he was.

Seconds ticked by until you suddenly pulled back your hand as if his touch burnt you. The corner of his lips curled up and you took a couple of steps back.

“Not going to shoot?”

“Rainbow wants you alive.”

He laughed and you fled towards the door. “Keep telling yourself that sweetheart.”

“Don't call me that. D-dont follow me.” You yanked the door open and ran out the door. Silently you went down the hallways, careful not to bump into any of his men. Eventually, you found a bathroom and jimmied open the window. You had no idea where you were but anywhere was better than being by his overwhelming presence.

You only looked over your shoulder once as you fled into the woods. He hadn't followed.

#r6s #r6s x reader #rainbow six siege #deimos x reader #gerald morris

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auspicious-manner · 1 year

Note

maybe a little morris delancey x ballet dancer!reader and him getting all soft when he sees her perform up on the stage?

oh i am ALL for this. as an ex-dancer, this was a dream to write! i tried not to include too much terminology so it wouldn’t get confusing.

so sorry this took so long, life has gotten very busy being back at university. but i’m trying to keep up as much as possible!

fem reader x morris delancey

warnings: none

mike taglist: @diorgirl444

Tough

•

“whaddya say to spendin’ the night with me, pretty girl?” your boyfriend, morris delancey, asked as you walked down the streets of new york city, hand in hand. the sun was just beginning to disappear behind the horizon, lighting the city up in an ethereal orange glow.

you leaned your body closer into his arm. “as lovely as that sounds, i got a show tonight.”

in order to make some extra cash to survive in new york, you got a job at medda’s theater performing three shows a week. when asked what special talents you had in your interview, you told medda that you had trained in ballet since you were young, but given that you barely had enough money to keep food on the table, you couldn’t afford pointe shoes despite being trained on them.

on the spot, she offered you a deal; typical performers performed one to two shows a week, but if you could handle it, she’d give you three shows a week and take the cost of the shoes out of your pay every other week. to you, that deal sounded like a dream come true.

morris never came to your shows, he always said he had “business to attend to” on the nights you performed. you weren’t really sure what that meant, but you could assume it had something to do with harassing those newsie boys that you felt a bit of sympathy for. he always claimed he was too tough to be seen watching a show in a theater.

morris threw his head back dramatically as you both walked. “you’re always at that theater. we never get to spend time together anymore.”

you smiled playfully. “you know, you could come to my show tonight since you keep avoidin’ it like the plague. what’s it gonna hurt you, morris?”

he thought about it briefly. “i could take a night off, come watch you do your little thing. how about that?” morris asked, half joking.

you immediately burst into a grin, ignoring the fact that he sounded a bit sarcastic with that proposal. all you’ve ever wanted was for your boyfriend to come watch you do what you do best. “that sounds perfect.”

unbeknownst to you, morris didn’t exactly want to see your show. sure, he loved you and would do pretty much anything you asked him to, but his idea of a fun night wasn’t going to a theater to watch a boring show with a bunch of old people. but seeing how you beamed at the idea of him finally coming to watch you made him feel like the only thing worse than going would be not going.

you stopped walking so you could stand in front of him, his tall stature standing over you. “the show starts at 7. you promise me you’ll be there?”

morris hesitated before nodding. “wouldn’t miss it for nothin’.”

you stood on your toes to reach up and give him a soft kiss. “i have to start getting ready. i’ll see you there?”

he put his hands on your hips, pulling you close. “of course.”

you whispered an okay before removing yourself from his grip, as much as you didn’t want to leave. you weren’t far from the theater, and when you got there, you found that you had approximately two hours to get fully ready and warmed up.

your dressing room was small and compact and below ground level. it was the only room medda could provide you, but you were thankful to even have a dressing room. there was one small window near the ceiling that provided a small look into the streets of new york city.

as you applied your stage makeup, you heard a light tapping coming from the window. you frowned, as hearing rhythmic noises directly against the glass was uncommon. you pulled your chair over to the wall, standing on it and further standing on your tip toes to pull the small curtains away to find a smiling morris on the other side of the glass. he was laying on his stomach so his head was level with the window.

you tried to contain laughter as you unlocked the window. “are you crazy?”

the window was far too small for him to climb in, so he just kept his head close to the opening as you looked up at him on top of the chair.

“i might be, but i’m just glad i finally found the right room. knocked on a few other windows, them ladies did not like me doin’ that.”

you giggled. “what are you even doing here? i told you to come for the show, not to my dressing room window.”

he shrugged before saying, “i wanted to wish you good luck, that’s all.”

you looked at him knowingly. you knew your boyfriend, and he didn’t go through all of this just to tell you about something you didn’t even really need.

“nice try. what’s the real reason you’re here?”

morris looked up, seemingly embarrassed. “where do i sit when the show starts?”

you paused. “i know sittin’ may be difficult for you, morris, but luckily for you there’s this new invention i think you’ll really love to try. it’s called a chair,” you said sarcastically.

he rolled his eyes playfully. “sweetheart, you know that’s not what i mean,” he said, his thick new york accent prominent. “where am i suppose’ to go? front row, back row, balcony? i don’t know how any of this stuff works.”

“as a matter of fact, i actually let miss medda know you were comin’ for the show, so she has a box reserved just for you.”

morris was reluctant to come at first, but now he was simply curious to discover what occupies so much of his girlfriend’s time. he wanted to make sure he could get the best view possible.

he put his head through the window, and you stood on your tip toes to meet him with a kiss. “i’ll see you after the show?”

he nodded. “of course. break a leg,” morris started, going to stand up but turning around to the window again. “but not actually. don’t actually break a leg, please.”

you laughed, holding his hand briefly through the window as he began to leave “i won’t!”

after he left, you finished getting your makeup on and got into your costume. every week, medda throws together a new theme for your performances, and this week she went with a forest theme. you were wearing all forest green costume that made you look like a fairy. your makeup fit the occasion too, and jack kelly’s painted props and artwork set the backdrop for your show.

about ten minutes before showtime, you stood backstage once the first act finished and your props were being moved behind the curtain that separated the stage from the audience.

your performances never lasted long; they were apart of some other, bigger show within the theater. but you drew in lots of crowds as you were becoming a household name. critics raved about your performances, and people came to medda’s theater specifically for you.

normally, you were a pro at keeping your nerves in line. the build up to the shows didn’t make you nervous anymore after weeks of doing it. but tonight, knowing morris was somewhere out there watching your every move made you immensely nervous. you weren’t just performing for a crowd tonight, that you could handle. you were performing for someone. your someone.

“miss Y/N, you’re shaking,” medda said behind you as she put her hands on your shoulders. you turned around; you were too in your mind to notice the shaking.

“sorry medda, just nervous, that’s all.”

you turned around to meet her, seeing a confused and unbelieving expression on her face. “you? nervous? i don’t believe it.”

you shrugged in response. she tilted her head, still questioning you, then you could tell her expression changed in an instant. “oh, i know why you’re nervous.”

you shook your head. “no you don’t.”

she smiled playfully, hitting your shoulder lightly. “oh yes i do. it’s because that delancey boy is out in the audience getting ready to watch you, isn’t it?”

you couldn’t hide the blush on your cheeks now. you didn’t even have to say anything; medda knew.

her tone changed, and she leaned in close. “don’t get distracted, kid. believe me, i’ve had my fair share of men in my life. but don’t let any man get in the way of you doing what you were born to do. you’re a natural at this, you have nothing to be nervous about.”

you took a deep breath. she was right. you knew exactly what you had to do. you nodded, and she backed away.

she smiled. “let’s get this show moving!”

medda walked out on stage in front of the curtain blocking the set, and that was your cue to get in your place on the props.

morris sat out in the audience, waiting anxiously for your presence on the stage. he had the perfect view from where he was at in the audience, and he held his breath waiting for the show to start. he couldn’t care less about the speech medda was planning before you went on, he just wanted to see you up there.

“i know many of you have come from far and wide to watch this next performer do what she does best. i would rave about her, but i’ll just let her dancing do the talking. up next to take my stage is the one and the only, Y/N L/N.”

medda bowed and walked off stage, and morris watched as the curtains fell away and he saw your figure in the darkness laid on a prop that was painted to look like a tree stump.

the lights came on, and the music began. morris watched as you slowly and gracefully worked around the prop, acting as a mythical creature in a forest. his eyes stayed locked on you, not entirely sure what he was watching, but enthralled nonetheless.

you stood on top of the tree stump, going up en pointe and holding your balance in an arabesque, your arms stretched out to your sides.

you glanced into the audience, still holding your balance, searching for morris. you couldn’t find him, but you ignored your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you brought your other leg down to leap off of the prop, sending your legs soaring out.

morris watched in awe in the audience. he liked to think of himself as tough as nails, and he frowned upon himself showing emotion. but, it was becoming harder and harder to uphold that facade as you continued moving around the stage. he knew you must have been talented to have your own show like this, but never in a million years would he have guessed you would be like this.

the turn sequences were your least favorite part of your shows. you were more of a jumper, you loved the feeling of soaring through the air. along with that, you were flexible, and you had tremendous balance for kicks. you were able to hold your leg impossibly high like it was nothing. but turns were a different story.

you began your prep, and as you did, you spotted morris in the audience, right in front of your vision. your heart began to race even more, and you saw as he smiled, knowing that you had just seen him.

in order to prevent yourself from getting dizzy, you used morris as your spot during your turns. you were turning fast, but as you kept your eyes locked on him, you were able to hold your balance en pointe. it felt like you and him were the only ones in that theater.

morris kept his eyes on you as you spun around and around on the very tops of your toes, a small gasp escaping his mouth. he had never seen anyone do something so quick and difficult while simultaneously having so much grace and fluidity.

after nailing the turns and flowing seamlessly out of them into the next section, you forced your eyes to pull away from his.

not only was morris awestruck by your movement, he was drawn into your storytelling. anyone in that room could see you were on an adventure through the forest, and he felt as if you were taking him along for the ride.

after what felt like hours but somehow not enough time, morris watched as you retreated to the back of the stage, hitting one last pose on the faux tree stump before the lights went dim.

the crowd immediately erupted as the curtains drew to a close, but morris stayed in place. he couldn’t quite process exactly what he just saw, but he was upset that it ended so soon. he could have watched you up there for hours.

when the curtains closed, you got off your prop and headed backstage as medda announced the last act of the night. another successful show, you thought to yourself.

as you sat backstage taking sips of water, you felt a presence behind you. before you could turn to see who it was, a voice spoke in your ear. “well if it ain’t the most talented girl i’ve ever seen.”

you stood up from your chair, seeing a smiling morris who had a singular rose in his hand. before you could jump into his arms and give him a bone crushing hug, he got to you first, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up off the ground.

“you were amazin’ out there, Y/N.”

you pulled away, the biggest grin you've ever had on your face. "you really think so?"

"i know so."

you rolled your eyes. "you're a big softie and you know it."

he smiled sarcastically, setting you back on the ground and lightly pinching your cheek. "any more of that and we're done, silly girl."

you giggled, and only then did you remember the single rose in his hand. morris looked down, almost as if he had forgotten about it too.

"oh, yeah, uh… this is for you. for being so beautiful up there," morris said, immediately getting shy. you bit your lip, holding back a giddy grin.

you stepped closer to him and stood en pointe to give him a kiss on the lips. "it's lovely, morris. where did you get it? you didn’t have that earlier," you asked, taking his hand in your free one.

"i took it from the bouquet that the guy sittin' next to me had."

you blinked at him before sighing. "of course you did."

#mike faist #mike faist imagine #mike faist x reader #mike faist fanfiction #newsies x reader #newsies imagine #morris delancey

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 months

Note

You take Stardew Valley requests now?!

Also—you do Morris too?

Hmm. Without immediately getting on the hate train, could I please request a Farmer!Reader getting sick of Morris pestering them to buy a Joja membership? Their reaction to this is to issue the store manager a challenge—since they doubt he’s actually done anything usual for the “company”. Reader worked at Jojacorp previously, they know how cushy manager jobs are. Farmer!Reader states they buy a membership if and only if Morris tries to get through one of their typical work schedules for a day.

Really. Other stores have to be scouted, land cleared, and then built. So it shouldn’t be too far fetched for him to have some experience on the physical of working for the company, right?

Or something like that.

Ohhh I like this one 👀

A little love for Morris for ya'll

.....

"Hello. How are you?"

"Good, thanks. And you?"

"I'm good. Did you find everything okay?"

"Yep. The other place was closed and I needed these seeds for my greenhouse before the season's up-"

"You know you could get them for far cheaper and more by purchasing our Joja membership! It's never too late~"

'Why did I say anything...' Already annoyed, you looked over your shoulder to see Morris, the JojaMart manager, standing at the customer service booth. He had a far-too-cheery smiling spreading from ear to ear, making him look more unnerving than friendly.

After seeing that stunt he pulled at Pierre's yesterday, you knew he wasn't ashamed about boasting his business and trying to push you over to his side.

You rolled your eyes and looked back at the redheaded cashier, handing her the gold and putting the seed packets in your backpack. Now you could say with confidence that you've gotten everything you needed to finish some bundles for the community center.

Wishing her a goodnight, you began heading towards the door--only to see Morris now standing there, once again insisting you buy a membership.

Apparently, ignoring him wasn't the solution this time.

"I mean no disrespect, sir..but the answer's no. I moved here to escape Joja, not get dragged back into it."

"Ah but everything leads back to Joja eventually, dear farmer." He chuckled. "You'll come around, I'm sure. Now you have a goodnight."

"You, too." Grumbling, you practically shoved past him and stormed back home, hopping into the nearest minecart as your shortcut.

Fortunately you had some time to plant the seeds in the greenhouse, knowing your sprinklers will take good care of them from here on out. And then you headed straight to bed, your pet curled up beside you as you dozed off.

........

It was a little past 6AM..and you were already done with today.

You were just 101% done.

That was all because of Morris.

Only now you realized how stubborn that corporate suck-up was...as in the mail he left you an envelope containing Joja coupons and a letter, once again pleading his case.

First he barges into another man's small business and presents a big sale to drive customers away...and now he's trying to bribe you with coupons, knowing damn well how rich your farm is becoming. He was just after your money and nothing more.

You were very close to chucking the letter into the furnace.

Then something dawned upon you..

He's always insisting that his store's products would make your farm work "easier", but what did he really know about the work you do? All that hard labor and hours toiling in the sun to get your grandpa's farm in better shape than it ever was?

You were no stranger to the cushy jobs your managers at Joja Corp had. They only had to do taxes, nag about meeting quota, and barely lifted a finger, lounging in a luxury office while you were cramped in a cubicle, mindlessly typing away on some old computer.

That was the only life Morris probably ever knew.

He didn't pour any blood, sweat, or tears into constructing JojaMart...or did he?

Then again, he liked to tout about building it all "from the ground up", and you wondered if he meant that literally.

That gave you an idea.

You were planning a trip to Skull Caverns today, but now you had something different in mind. Those serpents, mummies, and prismatic shards could wait.

So after checking everything on your farm, you headed to JojaMart right away. Not to buy goods this time, but to talk to Morris about your proposition.

The villagers in town were wondering why you were smiling, yet otherwise said good morning and continued about their day.

.............

As Morris was approaching the store, he was surprised to see you standing in front of the entrance. "Why hello, farmer." He chuckled, twirling the keys around his finger. "I see you've changed your mind? You must really want that membership-"

"Yeah, about that.." You huffed, backpack slung over your shoulder. "I wanna make a deal with you."

"..really, now? I thought you weren't into "business"." He pouted, but after seeing your stare, he sighed. "Fine. Out with it. I do have to open the store in five minutes."

"It'll only take one minute. I'll get the membership-"

His grin returned.

"--if, and only if, you come to my farm for a day and try to get through one of my work schedules."

Immediately it faltered as he gawked loudly, looking as though you tried to gift him trash. His glasses became askew as he physically recoiled, but he tried fixing them, sputtering out nonsense.

You titled your head, smirking. "What's wrong?"

"I--erm..i-is that all?" He managed to compose himself, trying to stay professional. "I mean..it's....how hard could it possibly be? That's why I was stunned. Because it seems..too simple."

"....I thought you were gonna say no-"

"No? Hah! I could never pass up a challenge, dear farmer. If that's all it takes to get you into our membership club and out of Pierre's rundown shack of a store..then why not?"

"Oh good. It shouldn't be that hard for someone like you who built this store "from the ground up"." You reminded him, noticing the subtle change in his expression. He was still smiling, yet he looked nervous. "You must be familiar with toiling for hours in the sun, scouting, clearing land of trees and boulders to make way for the foundation...."

As you went on and on, Morris kept nodding his head. But in the back of his mind, he was panicking.

He never got a spec of dirt on any clothes he wore, nor did he partake in any hard labor, having left that to his construction crew. He only ever managed the finances of the store--none of the physical aspects of running one.

That being said...he couldn't just let go of the 0.1% chance that you'll give into a membership. Not when you're coming to him at this hour with such a deal.

Whatever will give him an edge over Pierre, he'll take it.

"...oh, and there's one tiny string attached."

"Of course.." He chuffed, fixing his bowtie. "What is it?"

"You and your workers aren't allowed to touch the Community Center even if I buy that membership."

Once more, he gawked. "Huh?! But..but...with that extra 5,000 gold, we'll have more than enough to fund-!"

Your stare silenced him, and as frustrated as he was....he finally relented. "Fine. Fine. I'll call someone else to run customer service in my steed. As long as you hold up your end of the bargain."

"Don't worry. I won't leave you high and dry." You smiled, patting his shoulder and ignoring the way he cringed and hastily brushed the dirt off his suit when you moved away. "Come by my farm after work and I'll give you the rundown. Tomorrow morning you start."

"Will do. But until then...care to come in and shop?" He chuckled, unlocking the door.

Yet when he turned back around, you were already gone, and his shoulders sagged with defeat.

'That farmer is a strange one, but I'll get them that membership yet.'

....

"--and finally, between 11PM and 2AM, check the slime hutch and makes sure the troughs are full of water and sell off any petrified slime they may produce."

"..sounds disgusting."

"You want me to buy that membership or not, Morris?" Glaring at the Joja manager, you saw the way he flinched and looked at you with panic. "Because I can just-"

"No, no! It's fine..I agree with all of these..terms and conditions." He looked over the book of instructions you lent him, containing a log of one of your daily work schedules.

By the time you finished writing down the tasks, he arrived on your farm in the late evening in a pair of jeans and a white shirt (with the Joja logo, of course). So at least you knew he was taking this seriously.

Although you're sure he's only trying to convince you that he can do this, and you had some doubts. Even Sam and Shane were taking bets after learning where their manager was gonna be tomorrow, with Sam thinking he'll lose it at the slimes, and Shane betting he won't last an hour on your farm.

Time will tell if either of them win.

"Good, and there's just one more thing....don't mind the Cursed Mannequin."

He did a double take. "I'm sorry, the what now?"

"Oh nothing. I just have a perfectly normal mannequin in the house." You smirked. "Just don't touch it or look at it for too long. Anyways, I got an extra bed set up for you. Don't come looking for me in the morning because I'll be camping out at Calico Desert all day."

Digging a desert warp totem out of your bag, you looked at Morris one more time. "I got a few hours to set up camp, then I'll be down in the skull caverns."

"It's reassuring to know that's not part of this work schedule.." He muttered. "How much did you pay for the-?"

"I made it myself. Get yourself acquainted with the area and rest up. Tomorrow your challenge starts."

His eyebrows furrowed a little, as he wasn't a fan of you bossing him around like this. But then again this was your "business", technically, and he was only playing the role of employee for a day...

He only had to get through one day, and then you'll have no choice but to agree and get the Joja membership!

"Wait, but what if-?"

"You'll be fine, Morris. Try not to burn my farm down." With a wink, you activated the totem and disappeared in a bright flash of light, which made him quickly shield his eyes, wincing.

Suddenly he was all alone in the cabin, and his gaze eventually wandered to the single mannequin positioned by your wardrobe. It was wearing one of your festival outfits...

And, for a split second, Morris swore it was blinking at him.

But he just shook it off as his imagination, deciding to go outside and check over everything like you told him to.

'Okay, maybe this won't be so bad after all...I can do this. For Joja.'

.........

"Thanks, Pam!"

"Oh anytime, hun." The blonde driver chuckled as you were let off at the bus stop in Pelican Town, happy to be back after a long day at the Skull Caverns.

Least to say, it was a super lucky day for you...aside from the occasional swarm of serpents that had you running, ducking, and swinging your weapon like crazy. But you didn't pass out this time, thank Yoba.

You got a few things to donate to the museum, geodes to crack open, and gifts to give to your friends, but the most important thing right now was seeing how your farm was in Morris' hands.

Hopefully nothing burned down.

But part of you realized that if he was okay, that meant buying a Joja membership and having to succumb to the corporation you tried to get away from.

Oh well, you proposed that deal in the first place. It would be cruel not to uphold your end of it.

As you walked onto your farmland, you took a good look around, seeing that your crops were properly watered and the animals were out of the coop and barn, happily grazing in the fenced area. They seemed highly content.

'Well I'll be damned. He did it. I guess it wasn't so bad for him after all.'

Smiling, you headed inside the cabin to organize your backpack-

Only to find Morris passed out on the floor of your kitchen, his face sweaty and clothes covered in dirt and slime residue; not to mention several scratch marks on his skin, more notably his hands.

'Okay, maybe I spoke too soon.'

"Morris?" You got your watering can ready in case you had to wake him up-

Then he abruptly snapped his eyes open, sitting up with a gasp, scrambling to his feet the moment he saw you. He looked extremely strung out and..almost traumatized, even.

"Farmer, you...! Y-You...you didn't....!!"

"Hey, hey. Calm down, Morris." Setting the watering can on the table, you put your hands up. "You're okay. Everything looks good out there-"

"You didn't tell me you had beasts living on this farm! Oh god, I'm a mess. Don't look at me anymore!" With teary eyes, he rushed to the kitchen sink to wash his hands, nearly scrubbing them raw as he tried calming himself down. "Those Slimes were so vicious, they kept swarming me and one stole my glasses! A-And the animals...why didn't you say there were dinosaurs in the coop?!"

"I did put that down, but you must've thrown away the paper I gave you. I told you to look it over carefully."

"And I told you to get an Auto-Petter!" He huffed. "I would've offered it to you at a discount had I known you had so many animals! But noooo...you'd rather risk getting your fingers bitten off, I guess!"

"Oh come on. They're sweet little things who crave real human affection-"

"To you, who raised them, they might be!" Turning around, he could see your small smile, and he frowned in return. "You know what the worst part about all of this was?"

"I'm eager to know." You sat down at the table, your pet coming to sit beside you on the floor.

"...Pierre. He came by to sell you some ridiculous recipe, but instead saw me down on my knees, trying to tear some stupid fruit out of the ground! And he LAUGHED and called me your "new farmboy"!! You have any idea how humiliating that was?!!" His face was turning red.

"I can imagine...what was the recipe?"

"Wh..nevermind that! I represent all of Joja in this town, and if anyone finds out through my rival that I'm....!! I'm....!" As he looked at you and saw your expression, he felt defeated, his anger replaced with tiredness.

"...sorry. I told myself I wasn't going to lose my head." He rubbed his temples, groaning. "And here I am, doing just that. I..I don't know how you do it everyday, [y/n]. All of this work. I'm definitely not in the best shape for it."

"Believe me, I used to think the same thing." You chuckled, glad to see the haughty manager becoming so humble. "You remember our deal?"

Morris perked up. "Yes. You were..serious about that, correct?" His eyes narrowed. "Because if you made me go through all of this just to embarrass me-"

"Relax. You're gonna have a new member of your little club very soon." Sighing, you took out an envelope containing 5,000 gold that you've reserved for this. "Really didn't think you'd last long enough to win...but you did it."

He looked at you like a fish out of water, utterly speechless. But he quickly regained his composure and laughed, standing upright. "Hah! One score for me, none for Pierre! Shall we get you set up right away into our rewards program-?"

"Get cleaned up first, and then we'll talk about that."

"......fine, "boss"." His shoulders slumped as he pouted, heading back into the spare bedroom to wash up and put his black suit, slacks, and bowtie back on.

While waiting, you sighed and looked down at your pet. "That son of a bitch really did it, Miso."

"........"

"Yeah, I should've known better. But it was nice being the manager of him for once."

#clanask #anonymous #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #sdv morris #stardew valley morris

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angelofthenight · 9 months

Text

*Charlie walks into a room*

Kirby, to Olivia: Now there’s a phenomenon. Look. (y/n)’s shadow has arrived before (y/n)

#source: anna karenina #reader insert #scream incorrect quotes #incorrect scream quotes #scream x reader #scream 4 #scream #yandere charlie walker x reader #yandere charlie walker #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker #rory culkin #kirby reed #olivia morris #yandere ghostface #ghostface x reader

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maxwell-mtv · 1 year

Text

I'm drunk, tired, and ready to produce content. Take some Morris x [G/N]Shoplifter!Reader HCs because fuck capitalism

Morris didn't think he'd ever see the day in a small, supportive town like Pelican Town where he'd need to deal with a shoplifter

Of course occasionally Sam would swipe some small things here or there, but whether or not he realized Morris would always take it out of the man's paycheck

So when he saw the new farmer from down the way hastily looking around while shoving canned sludge into their backpack, he was a little alarmed

"Can't they just eat the crops they're growing? Or go fishing? Heck, there's even random food they could forage for themselves."

For whatever reason, though, there you were, on CCTV, stealing from a poor, helpless multi-million corporation

Morris's initial reaction was to confront you and kick you out

But then he took a moment

First and foremost, Joja protocol strictly stated that a manager could only take action after the thief surpassed a certain amount of cash value for the items stolen

Secondly, Morris took pause at the oddity of the situation

Why was the farmer doing this???

Staging himself at the exits, he eagerly stopped the farmer as they were leaving, seemingly empty-handed

"Ah, (Y/N), right? Did you find everything you were looking for today?" He says with his best customer-service smile

"Uh, yeah, just need to go home and check on things before I come back and-"

"Are you alright, (Y/N)? You're looking a little flush in the face..." Morris cuts you off, intending to make you squirm, only to realize you really did look rather feverish

"Oh, um, sorta, I just haven't been feeling the best. I guess I've exhausted myself in the fields, it takes a lot of work and time to grow good-quality crops, you know?" You anxiously eyed the door.

"I see..." Morris straightens his posture before clearing his throat. "Well, you know if you ever need any cold supplies or medication Joja is always the superior brand!"

"Thanks, Morris, but I don't exactly have the best budget for that sort of stuff, I can barely afford... uh nevermind, I should get going. I'm sure you're a busy man and I need to go home." You continue to eye the exits, shifting your feet so you continue towards them.

"I see, well, have a Joja-tastic day, (Y/N), and remember, at Joja we care..." Morris says a stock phrase pushed onto him by corporate. Watching you leave, his brows furrow in conflicted thought.

Running home, you manage to stash away your loot before collapsing on the floor of your home.

Waking sometime later to the sound of a strict knocking at your door, you rise from the splintered floorboards. Feeling groggy and gross

Hesitating, you approach the door and crack it open, only to see no one but a single gift basket, plastic wrapped and slathered with branding

Picking it up, you see the many soup cans and medical supplies inside, even including a blanket and reusable ice-pack. All of which, are Joja brand, of course. Plucking the strange card sloppily taped to the top, you read what looks to be someone's attempt at some neat hand writing...

"Dear Pelican Town Resident,

The health of all of our communities is very important to us. That is why we are gifting wellness baskets to every one of our local residents. Please enjoy these complimentary supplies, as provided by Joja Corp.

Signed,

Morris, Joja Customer Satisfaction Representative"

As you closed the door, Morris finally broke his silence to catch his breath against the side of your tiny house

Making sure to peek that you'd actually grabbed the basket, he snuck his way back to Joja Mart, just in time for closing

#morris stardew valley #stardew valley #stv x reader #Morris x reader #Farmer! Reader #Maxwell_MTV

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enterrandomname · 5 months

Note

slow dancing with henry morris? couldn't think of a good prompt I apologize @_@

Slow Dancing with Henry

Word Count: 345

⋆——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆

Calm, peaceful music played as everyone drank and laughed with their friends. Not a single soul was alone except for you. This whole idea started when one of your colleagues decided that there should be a fun way to end the week.

This is where the whole idea of a dance came in; everyone started pitching their own ideas and was somehow able to persuade the boss.

Did you like the idea? No. Did you even bother to stop them? …No, but you had nothing to do on a boring Friday, so why not try to enjoy it the best way you can?

You awkwardly stood next to your friend, Henry. The two of you never had any history of dancing or even learned how to dance.

As the soft melody enveloped the room, you stole a hesitant glance at Henry, noticing his uneasy posture mirroring your own. Despite your lack of dancing skills, there was an unspoken agreement to make the most of the evening. With a shy smile, Henry extended his hand, a silent invitation to join him on the dance floor.

“Oh, I don't—I don’t dance.” You tried to refuse the invitation. Henry frowned but grabbed your hand. “Can’t you just enjoy this for once?” Your friend brought you to the dance floor; his face seemed a bit red, but you shrugged it off, thinking that it was the lighting.

With tentative steps, you began to sway to the music, your movements awkward yet strangely synchronized. Henry's reassuring grip tightened slightly, offering silent encouragement as you navigated the unfamiliar terrain together. “Guess we do know how to dance?” He attempted to lighten up the mood.

As the song drew to a close, you found yourself reluctant to let go, savoring the fleeting moment of connection. The sound of laughter and cheering filled the room; it seemed like the two of you weren’t the only ones who were also having a fun time.

Fidgeting with his fingers, Henry cleared his throat before speaking up.

“Would you like to… do that again some day?”

#x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #wii deleted you #henry morris x reader #henry morris #wdy henry #wdy henry x reader #wdy x reader #wii deleted you x reader #x gn!reader #x gender neutral reader

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tatumrileyslover · 10 months

Text

Shattered Unity

[Fragment One: I] [Fragment One: II]

Synopsis: Jill Roberts had everything, a perfect house, with a perfect family and a perfect little sister, who she cared for far more than she realised.

Pairings: Jill Roberts x Sister! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: nothing so far :) some sibling fluff

34 Elm Street epitomized the pinnacle of luxury in Woodsboro, an affluent community coveted by all. The neighborhood itself exuded an aura of safety, lined with sycamores and white picket fences. In the middle of it all stood the Roberts household, bustling with the loud sounds of a typical Monday morning.

Jill rolled over in her plush bed, pulling her pillow over her ears to block out the loud noise of her alarm. Letting out a deep groan, her arms fumbled around until they found the snooze button. Her eyelids fluttered shut again, aiming to steal a few more precious moments of sleep until a sudden crash echoed from downstairs.

"Sweetheart!" Her mother's voice reverberated through the house. "Are you okay?"

Jill could hear her little sister mumbling something in response, probably attempting to make herself breakfast. She always had this habit of striving for independence. Jill stretched, her long black hair cascading as she released it from the loose bun of the night before. Running her fingers through the tangles, she slipped into a pair of jeans and rummaged through her wardrobe in search of a shirt. As Jill swung her door open, the sound of small feet scampering up the stairs reached her ears. It seemed her sister had an uncanny sixth sense for detecting when Jill was awake.

"Jill!" Her little form came barreling around the corner, running toward Jill's feet. Her face lit up when she saw her sister. "I made you pancakes," she announced proudly. Jill laughed and asked if that was what the crash was. The little one hid her face in Jill's shirt, her speech muffled by the fabric. "I might have dropped the pan." Jill ruffled her hair before manoeuvring around her to start going downstairs.

The kitchen bore the aftermath of a culinary hurricane—flour dusted every available surface, eggshells added a crunch underfoot, and a symphony of pots and bowls occupied the sink. Amidst this chaos sat a plate of hastily assembled pancakes, syrup awaiting its inevitable deployment. As Jill cautiously surveyed the scene, her foot met an unexpected puddle of milk, sending a shiver up her spine as the sock soaked up the liquid.

Suppressing a sigh, Jill turned her attention to her sister, ready to issue a gentle reprimand. However, before she could speak, (Y/n) beat her to it with a spirited declaration. "Don't worry, Jill! I'm cleaning it all up after I eat. I just wanted to make sure you had something to eat before Kirby picks you up." Her bright smile melted any lingering frustration, reminding Jill why (Y/n) was her undeniable soft spot.

"You're such a little troublemaker, (Y/n)," Jill joked, pulling off her damp sock. She walked to the kitchen table, grabbing a few pancakes to smother in syrup. (Y/n) climbed onto the stool beside her big sister, looking at her intently. "Speaking of Kirby, do you think I can say hi when she comes to pick you up? I want to show her the picture I drew of us three!" Jill looked over, shocked at her sister, talking with a mouthful of pancake. "You drew a picture of me?" (Y/n) corrected her, saying it was all three of them together, but Jill's mind was elsewhere. All (Y/n) ever drew was puppies and rainbows—childish things. Never had Jill seen her draw a person, never mind her.

Jill's fork hovered mid-air, laden with syrup-soaked pancake, as she stared at (Y/n) with wide eyes. The surprise etched across her face deepened, a mix of disbelief and genuine awe. For a moment, she was caught in the realization that her little sister had moved beyond the realm of fluffy animals and sunny scenes, venturing into something far more personal.

"You drew a picture of me?" Jill repeated, as if the words needed confirmation. The syrup dripped slowly back onto the plate, forgotten in her slackened grip. (Y/n)'s innocent nod was met with an almost incredulous smile from Jill, as if the simple act of portraying her in a drawing was a revelation.

"(Y/n), that's... incredible," Jill finally managed, her tone carrying a mix of surprise and warmth. The thought that her sister had chosen to illustrate her, amid all the subjects she could have picked, lingered in the air like a sweet revelation.

"I'll show it to you!" (Y/n)'s syrup-sticky hands seized Jill's, leading her in an eager ascent up the stairs, their footsteps an echo of shared laughter. The little haven at the top, (Y/n)'s room, painted in every shade of pink. It was a sanctuary of innocence, adorned with unicorns, magical creatures, and the captured moments of their life.

The walls told stories in crayon and glitter drawings, tales of a childhood untainted by the complexities of the world beyond. Pictures of Jill and (Y/n), frozen in time, grinned back at them. Jill couldn't help but notice the subtle nostalgia woven into the room, a familiar echo of her own youth. The glow-in-the-dark stars overhead seemed to promise dreams as pure and boundless as the universe itself.

Most of the toys strewn across the floor were remnants of Jill's childhood, a nostalgic scatter of innocence now usurped by time. Yet, what tugged at Jill's heartstrings most was the teddy bear lying on the bed, a mirror image of the one resting in her own room. (Y/n) never ventured anywhere without that bear. It was a shared relic, a testament to a bond forged in the simplicity of happier times.

As Jill sank into memories, the room became a vessel of echoes. Most vivid was the recollection of a day long past, a shopping trip with her father to find the perfect gift for baby (Y/n). The brown bear, soft and fluffy, had captured Jill's heart. She pleaded with her father to let her have one too. That day marked the last fragment of happiness she could recall with him.

A small shake brought Jill back to the present. She found herself gently pushed to sit on the edge of the bed. (Y/n) darted to the desk by the door, the chaotic rustle of pages scattering in her wake. Amidst the flurry, a small sound of excitement at her discovery. (Y/n) rushed back, concealing a page behind her back, anticipation dancing in her eyes.

Jill was presented with a page, a kaleidoscope of waxy stripes in every imaginable color. Amidst the vibrant chaos, three figures took center stage. Two of them stood at a similar height, towering protectively over a smaller figure nestled between them. A soft smile graced Jill's lips as she looked at her younger sister, who returned the gaze with anticipation sparkling in her eyes.

Gently, Jill pulled (Y/n) into her arms, the paper the only barrier between then. She whispered softly in her sister's ear, "Kirby's going to love this."

Kirby's car rushed into the driveway of the Roberts household, letting out a loud beep that echoed in the quiet neighborhood. As Jill stepped onto the front porch, the car's blaring music masked the sounds around them.

"Before you get in the car, you need to promise not to kill me!" Kirby shouted over the music, quickly turning it off as Jill approached.

"Why?" Jill asked, walking closer to the passenger door, while her sister eagerly ran toward the car. "What did you do?"

"Trevor called me last night," Kirby explained, and Jill's face twisted in disgust. "Why is he calling you?" She leaned down, poking her head through the car window, while (Y/n) stood on her tiptoes to get Kirby's attention.

"Because you won't take his calls, he knows I have you here and he wants to know," Kirby said. Jill opened the door with a roll of her eyes, and Kirby shifted her focus to (Y/n), greeting her with a warm, "Hi pumpkin!"

Ignoring Kirby's attempt to divert the conversation, Jill pressed, "Know what?" Kirby's eyes darted away from (Y/n), who stood eagerly waiting to share something. "How upset you are." She finished.

Olivia hopped into the backseat of the car, engaging Jill in conversation about Trevor. While they chatted, Kirby shifted her attention to the younger Roberts sister, who stood patiently at the door. With an exuberant greeting, she handed Kirby a piece of paper, saying, "I drew this for you!" Kirby smiled at the young girl, touched by the fact that her best friend's younger sister cared enough to create a drawing. "It’s me, you, and Jill," she explained, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.

"It’s amazing, (Y/n)!" Kirby examined the drawing carefully before placing it on the dashboard. "When I get home from school, it’s going straight up on my refrigerator," she promised with a smile. (Y/n) beamed at this news. Kirby glanced at the time; if they didn’t leave now, they’d be late. “We have to go, pumpkin. Have a good day at school!” she called out as she watched (Y/n) run back into the house, waving back to the girls as she did and Jill shut the car door.

Olivia rolled her eyes from the back seat, letting out a scoff. She had something against Jill’s sister ever since she accidentally broke her cell two years ago. Olivia opened her mouth to state something when Jill quickly turned to face her, her stare cold and harsh, quickly shutting Olivia up. She huffed, “I wasn’t going to say anything about your sister!” Her arms raised in the air in defense.

Jill let a small smirk grace her lips; she could see Olivia was lying. “Really!” She turned back to the front, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. Jill wanted to see what kind of stupid story Olivia would attempt to create to dig herself out of the hole she made. “What was it you were going to say?”

Olivia stumbled over her words, desperately trying to come up with a story that would fit, but she couldn’t. “Fine!” She bowed her head in defeat. “But it’s not a crime to dislike your sister; she's just so...” She trailed off, seeing Jill's glare. “Clingy.”

The pulsating beat of a song jolted all three girls from their conversation. Jill's cellphone buzzed near her feet, prompting her to fish it out of her bag. As Olivia grumbled about the ringtone, Jill examined the caller ID.

"Why is Jenny Randall calling me?"

Both Kirby and Olivia shrugged, as Jenny wasn't someone they interacted with frequently.

"I don't know. I don't like Jenny Randall. She threw up on me at Tony Marshall's luau," Olivia interjected. Kirby rolled her eyes, and as Jill answered the phone, "That luau was freshman year!" Kirby turned to Olivia, who threw up her hands, “I didn't say my anger was rational!"

Both girls redirected their attention to Jill upon hearing her asking about the caller. Kirby returned her focus to the road, stealing glances at Jill's now irritated expression. "What does she want?" Jill ignored her friend's question, continuing to reprimand the mysterious caller. "Where’s Jenny?" Confusion deepened on the faces of Kirby and Olivia. Was Jenny Randall attempting to prank call Jill? Jill lowered the volume of the car's music. "Who is this?"

Kirby listened intently to the voice on the other end. It resonated deep and rough, like gravel on the highway. Certainly not Jenny Randall. Panic crept over Jill's face as she abruptly declared, “I’m hanging up.”

After a brief pause, Jill turned to her friends. "That was so weird. I just got a prank call from Jenny Randall." Olivia promptly interrupted with her own story, but Jill remained silent, appearing uninterested. "Jenny Randall is weird. Her and her little Marnie the Carny friend are freaks!" Glancing at Jill, who sat somewhat diminished in her seat and gazing out the window, Kirby sensed Jill might be anxious about her sister after such a peculiar call. Olivia continued to ramble on, it was very clearly not helping Jill. Kirby sighed before trying to reassure Jill.

"It's massacre week. People go looney, remember?"

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chadillacboseman · 6 months

Note

I dont know if you're doing deimos yet or based off song fics, but if you do. Deimos x Fem! reader, exes to lovers . Maybe starting off the fic with a flashback, the flashback being based off austin by dasha where the reader ran into Deimos again when they were tracking him, reaching him before the others only to realize who he was off his voice and asking him this, "Did your boots stop workin'?, Did your truck break down? (Truck break down), Did you burn through money?, Did your ex find out? (Ex find out), Where there's a will then there's a way, And I'm damn sure you lost it, Didn't even say goodbye, Just wish I knew what caused it, Was the whiskey flowin'?, Were you in a fight?, Did the nerves come get you?, What's your alibi?, I made my way back to LA, And that's where you'll be forgotten, In forty years you'll still be here, Drunk, washed up in Austin" By all means please disregard that part if you dont do song fics that's fine! but pretty much just the reader calling him out for leaving their plans behind which lead to her joining rainbow. Then the two of them eventually making it up later down the line after the flash back, the two being forced to work together, or maybe after a fight something happens and they have to rely on each other for survival, only to realize they're still in love all these years later Thanks for taking the time to read :) feel free to dm if you need more details!

FIRST OF ALL- Thank you for the new song, I'm in love with it.

SECOND- A DEIMOS REQUEST?! Truly we are blessed.

Timeline-wise I'm not sure this makes any sense whatsoever but eh.

Deimos was always a bridge burner. It was what he did best.

Maybe it was foolish, but you truly thought that the bridge between the two of you couldn't be burned. Until you came home one night to find all of his things gone, everything he'd kept in your apartment cleared out as if he'd never been there.

Phone calls were useless. His number had already been disconnected.

You had no idea what had driven the sudden disconnect. His work had always been secretive, much like your own, but he always assured you that you'd be the first to know if he had to go dark.

Perhaps it was your fault.

In the months that followed, you threw yourself into your work, desperately trying to push Gerald from your mind until Harry Pandey showed up on your doorstep.

"You'd be an asset to Rainbow," Harry clutched the mug of tea you'd offered him as he sat across from you at the small table, "We're facing a new threat, the Keres Legion."

He said the name as if it would mean something to you. When you didn't respond, he cleared his throat awkwardly and continued, "They're led by Gerald Morris."

Your heart dropped into your shoes as soon as the words left his mouth. Harry must have sensed the change, swiftly pivoting the conversation back to recruitment.

"Joining us would give you a chance to make a difference."

You knew what he meant.

Harry was dead by the end of the week that he'd recruited you.

Rainbow was in disarray, constantly besieged by the Keres Legion and now without a leader. Your integration to their ranks was rocky at best- distrustful looks often followed you, accompanied by whispers behind hands.

Jordan, "Thermite" as they called him in the field, was your support in the first few weeks after your recruitment. You were assigned to Redhammer alongside him, tasked with hitting Keres hard and fast, hoping to catch them off-guard.

You were filled with a kind of righteous fury that only Gerald could bring out in you.

You threw yourself into each mission, carving a warpath like a raging wildfire. Every Keres member that you put in the ground only served to enrage you further, mere pawns that the mighty 'Deimos' put between you and him.

Jordan told you to use it, to unbottle the anger and unleash it in full. He was angry too. He'd already lost friends in the Nighthaven split, and now Harry was dead.

"We take him alive, understood?" Jordan gave you a pointed look as he spoke. Weeks of field operations had led you closer to Deimos and his hiding place.

Jordan looked exhausted. Dark circles haloed his eyes and his beard had become unruly. Since Harry's death, he had taken on more responsibility, alongside Doc and Caveira.

Redhammer was huddled outside a warehouse bathed in moonlight, all eyes trained on a floor plan that Jordan had laid on the ground. Red arrows and Xs indicated entry points and positions; you were to take the cat walk that ran above the central room, gaining entry via the window to the east.

Getting inside was easy. Too easy.

You crept along the catwalk while Ash and Thermite came in from below. Fuze set to work planting charges on the exterior of the building.

Beneath you, Keres mercs rifled through crates of weapons. They were of no concern to you, your eyes were fixed on the reinforced door on the opposite side of the room.

Just as you reached it, the sounds of gunfire erupted below, muzzle flashes lighting up the dim space as Thermite and Ash engaged in a firefight.

The gunfire didn't concern you.

You leveled your boot into the door near the handle and it banged open, ricocheting off the wall and sending splinters into the room. You caught sight of Gerald's back as he leapt through the open window and you swore, bounding after him. He had no time to detach his rope, so you followed him down, landing gracefully just feet behind him.

You jumped, tackling him around his middle and bringing him to the ground with a dull thud that forced the air from his lungs. He rolled onto his back, and before he could recover, you leveled a punch into his gut that made him grunt under his mask.

"Deimos," you spit the codename out and he chuckled, "end of the line."

"Still just as pretty, even when you're tryin' to kill me," you could almost hear the smile in his words, "see they got you fightin' the good fight."

"Give me a reason," you hissed.

"I'm bettin' Trace told you to take me alive."

You faltered for a moment and Gerald laughed again. He hadn't attempted to push you off yet, but you knew it was coming. Back in the warehouse, discordant yells were still mixed with gunfire.

"Why did you do it?" you finally asked the question that had burned a hole through you for months, your pistol still pressed firmly against his chest, "Why did you leave?"

"You knew the game, doll," he cocked his head as he stared up at you, "Not like I had fun doing it."

"You didn't even say goodbye," your voice wavered, despite your best efforts, "Not a fucking word- just gone."

He didn't respond, which only pissed you off further.

"Not once did you try to reach out to me," you pressed the gun harder into his chest, "Why?"

"You were safer that way."

The gunfire stopped and your grip on Gerald faltered. In one swift motion, he rolled, knocking you off of him and scrambling to his feet before he disappeared into the night. You cursed and aimed your pistol wildly into the dark, but he was already gone.

Jordan knew it wasn't your fault, not really. But that didn't stop Sam from handing you your ass in the days that followed the botched capture attempt.

As punishment, he'd stuck you on watch duty, holed up in some shithole safe house with ears and eyes trained on the warehouse across the street. By the second day, you felt as if you were losing your mind- you were practically begging for something, anything to happen.

And then something did happen.

"Can't believe Rainbow still uses the same safe houses after all these years."

You leapt from your chair and spun on your heel to find Gerald standing in the doorway. Your heart took residence in your throat as you stared him down, your own reflection looking back at you from the eyes of his mask.

"You can relax, sweetheart," he took a few steps forward and you tensed, eyes darting to the door behind him. How much had he changed in all these months? Some of the files you'd read...

"You think I'd hurt you?" he sounded wounded, but you kept your guard up, cursing yourself for resting your sidearm so far from you.

"You've hurt plenty of other people," you glanced at the door again as you spoke, but he had planted himself firmly between it and you.

"They weren't you."

"Why are you here?" you dared a small step toward your pistol that rested on the table near the window.

"Because in about six minutes, this place is gonna be crawling with Masks. Zero isn't as meticulous as Harry was. Shame."

"Harry would still be here if it weren't for you," you shot back and he shrugged.

"You gonna come with me, or you plan on dying to prove a point?"

As if on cue, there was a commotion at the front of the safe house that told you the location was compromised. You glanced at the door, then back to Gerald. He cocked his head in anticipation.

You grabbed your gun from the table and together, you leapt through the window, rolling gracefully as you hit the pavement below. Shots rang out from the window and hit the pavement, sending showers of sparks that lit the dark street at your feet.

You trailed behind Gerald as he wove through the darkening alleyways. No doubt Zero would get word that your location had been compromised. He'd likely send a unit, and you had to wonder if he'd even be disappointed that you weren't there.

Gerald's safe house was nicer than Rainbow's, a fact that wasn't lost on you. You knew that if word got back to HQ about this, you'd be court-martialed at the bare minimum.

It wasn't until your adrenaline ran dry that you noticed the way he clutched at his side protectively, gloved fingers glinting crimson under the fluorescent light.

"You're hit," you moved toward him and he chuckled, pulling his hand to the side so you could see the wound.

"Always so observant," he drawled and you rolled your eyes.

"Let me look at it."

Gerald sank into a chair near the covered window and shucked his jacket to reveal the bloodied area. The bullet, by some miracle of poor White Mask aim, had passed clean through and missed anything vital.

All the anger you'd had was still there, bubbling just below the surface. You still resented him, still hated him with every fiber of your being.

But when he pulled his mask off and tossed it aside, you felt your heart hammer as it had before. He was still the same. Still sharp features and dark eyes that watched your every move as you cleaned the wound and packed it with gauze.

"Harry was right to recruit you," his voice was low as he observed your work.

"Well, he's dead now and losing you last time landed me in this mess."

Gerald grunted in response and you felt the anger as it welled up behind your teeth, threatening to fall out of your mouth like a red hot flame.

"You still hate me, don't ya?" he cocked his head and for a moment the fire died down as your eyes met his. They still crinkled at the corners when he smiled, though new wrinkles had joined the old since you'd last seen his face.

"Do you blame me?" you spat and his smile faded, "Did your phone stop working? Did you even think about me once?" the fire was back, raging in your chest as you stared up at him, defiant as always.

"I never stopped thinkin' about you."

The fire went out in an instant.

"Every day I hoped you were safe. I used to drive by the old place just to make sure you were alive," Gerald leaned in toward you and your heart jumped into your throat, "And every goddamn day, I prayed you'd forgive me."

You opened your mouth, then closed it again, unable to find the words. You'd spent so much time hating him. Resenting him to the point that it made you ill.

Now, here he stood before you- not the mighty Deimos, just Gerald Morris. The man you'd loved.

The man you still loved.

For so long you'd buried it under the anger, convincing yourself that you hated him, convincing the world that you hated him.

"So, do you?" he asked and you met his gaze again, furrowing your brows in confusion, "Forgive me?"

Before you could stop yourself, your arms were around his broad frame, and your face found it's old home buried against his chest. He chuckled and returned the embrace, resting his chin on the crown of your head.

"That a 'yes'?"

You weren't even sure what your forgiveness would look like- how you could reconcile what he'd done- what he would continue to do. But in that moment, it didn't matter, none of it did. You had him here, and he had you.

"Yes."

#deimos x reader #gerald morris x reader #deimos r6 #requests #gif is mine #hope it's okay :|

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