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toournextadventure · 5 months

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our little secret iii

Summary: All four of you lost the bet, and now it's time to pay up. Thankfully, Maxine and Bobby-Lynn know just how to make sure Lorraine has to pay up too.

Word Count: 8.9k Warnings: swearing, smut 18+, religious talk (typical of southern states), religious trauma, period-typical homophobia Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader (our little secret i) (our little secret ii) (our little secret iii) (our little secret iv)

“This ain’t sittin’ right with me,” you whispered to Beau as you tried, once again, to get comfortable in the back of RJ’s van.

Despite your best attempts, you, Beau, and Huck were currently sitting with Lorraine’s crew on the way to a location. It had been agreed by everyone - except you, obviously - that you had all lost the bet, so you should all have to own up. Although you still found it profoundly unfair that Lorraine somehow got out unscathed from the entire thing that she had agreed to.

And now you were stuck in the back of a hot, sweaty van with a bunch of hot, sweaty people that were one camera away from having relations for pay.

“We all lost, we all pay up,” Beau whispered back even as he smiled at Maxine. You rolled your eyes; he was such a suck up.

“Lorraine ain’t gotta pay up,” you grumbled, but settled back in your spot anyway.

Admittedly, you were being rather rude. You had barely said hello to any of them, and you hadn’t talked to them since the trip had started. It wasn’t their fault though, it was entirely on you. You just… didn’t know what to say to them. This wasn’t your world, and it was completely overwhelming. You didn’t care what any of them did for a living, but you hadn’t expected to be a part of it.

And if Jackson didn’t quit staring at you, you were going to lose your mind.

“You look awful familiar,” Jackson said with the slightest tilt of his head. He never stopped rubbing Bobby-Lynn’s thighs.

“Ever been a few hours south of Houston?” You asked, shifting in your spot to bring your knees up to your chest.

“Don’t believe I have,” he said with a shrug.

“Must just be a resemblance, then,” you answered.

“Leave her be,” Bobby-Lynn said as she playfully smacked Jackson’s chest. “Can’t you see you’re making her uncomfortable?”

“Do we make you uncomfortable, sweetheart?” Jackson asked.

Oh. Oh, yeah, that was very uncomfortable.

“You were in ‘Nam, right?” Beau asked, thankfully pulling the attention away from you. You supposed he was good for something.

“Yes sir,” Jackson said with a smile, pulling his dog tags out from under his shirt. “Two tours.”

“North or South?” Beau continued. Okay, maybe you didn’t want to hear so much about this anymore.

“South.”

“Y/N’s brother was in South Vietnam,” Huck chimed in. “Maybe that’s where you recognise her.”

Oh, you wanted them both to shut up. You wanted them both to hush right that instant. You looked up and instantly met Lorraine’s eyes from across the van. She was still sitting beside RJ, going over the script and whatever else she usually did. But there was the smallest tug at the corner of her mouth when she looked at you.

I hate you, you mouthed, to which her smile grew before she went back to the script.

“What’s your brother’s name, sweetheart?” Jackson asked, pulling you back into the conversation that you desperately wished would end.

Although you liked the adorable little frown Lorraine sent Jackson’s way at the use of the little nickname. Maybe you were okay with talking with Jackson. If it could get Lorraine’s feathers ruffled, then it was worth it. It was about time the tables were turned.

“Roy,” you said. “Roy Y/L/N.”

“No shit,” Jackson said. “I served with that son of a bitch.”

“Seriously?” You pulled your knees up to your chest and leaned forward. “Which tour?”

“My first,” he said with a smile.

You smiled back. “So you knew him before he…” your voice trailed off into nothing as your eyes slowly lowered to the floor of the van and your smile fell.

Before he went crazy. But you couldn’t say that out loud, could you? Your daddy had done his best to make sure you all knew not to mention Roy’s “affliction.” A test from God, he had called it. He used it as nothing more than a piss poor excuse to remind everyone that that’s what happens when you fall from faith. What would he say about you?

You just kept your mouth shut and rested your chin on your knees.

“He caught the combat trauma,” Huck said in a far softer tone than Beau ever could have managed.

“Now that’s a shame,” Jackson said with a shake of his head.

“Heard it happens more than you think,” Maxine called out from the front seat. It was probably the first thing you had heard from her since… Well, it was the first thing you had heard. “They all come home different.”

Oh, you weren’t so sure you liked this.

“You can’t come back different,” Bobby-Lynn said with a humourless chuckle. “Besides, it ain’t even real, is it?”

“They said it is,” Maxine continued, finally turning around to face everyone. “Put it in their little book last year, called it PTSD or somethin’ like that.”

You didn’t like this topic at all. The hair on the back of your neck stood up and your grip around your knees tightened. They didn’t get to talk about this like it was nothing of impact to you. Hadn’t they just heard Huck say Roy had this… this combat trauma? And they were going to act like nothing was wrong?

Everyone around you continued to talk about this new PTSD thing that was starting to make its rounds. It felt like someone was watching you. Without lifting your head, you looked up and were instantly met with Lorraine staring at you with that look that she had never grown out of. A look that she gave you every time you would be forced to talk about Beau as if he were the love of your life. A look of pity.

And you hated pity.

“Hey,” Jackson said, a little softer than everyone else’s ongoing conversation. He nudged your foot with his to get you to look over. “If you want me to talk to him, man to man, just let me know.”

His smile was more genuine than you had seen from a stranger in a long time. But there was no comfort in it because his offer was empty. You had no doubt he was being genuine, but how were you going to invite him over and have him talk to Roy without Daddy figuring out? The times were changing, but Jackson was a… certain type of man that you knew Daddy would never happily allow in his home. You and Roy were already scourges upon his land - though he still didn’t know your secret - so how could you possibly invite Jackson over with a clear conscience?

“Thank you,” you said instead, your smile far more convincing than your own thoughts.

The rest of the trip was, by all accounts, uneventful. That blasphemous talk of trauma and war had changed when Lorraine decided it was time to talk about the script. And even as she and RJ went over everything with their stars, and you were faced with the reality that you were truly, painfully alone, you still felt some sort of peace.

You would almost go so far as to say you felt comfortable.

Until you got to the shooting location.

“Are you serious?” You whisper-yelled at Lorraine when you both got out of the van. “You should have told me.”

“Would you have come?” She shot back, quickly shooting a fake smile to Beau and Huck when they passed. “Besides, we’re usin’ the building beside it.”

“You’re full of shit,” you mumbled as you looked up at the steeple of the small chapel.

By all accounts, it was a splendid little church. With a single steeple at the front of the roof and an elevated cross in the back, it almost reminded you of the one at home. Double doors that doubtlessly opened into a small worship room that held eight pews at most before ascending into the podium. A setup not unlike your own church back home, except this one didn’t house the guilt you couldn’t shed.

Beside the church was the parsonage, looking just as you knew them to look. Small, a little run down, painted a white that felt forced upon the environment. The paint was chipped and the window shutters were slightly askew, but it seemed to fit the rather bleak landscape behind it. Not ugly, but not exactly pretty either.

“Whatcha think?” Wayne asked. You jumped, but quickly regained composure. “Ain’t she pretty?”

“It looks cozy,” you said with a shrug. “You’re filmin’ in the parsonage, right? Not the church?”

Wayne laughed. A big hearty laugh that reminded you of all the sweet older men out at the rodeos. The ones that told you you were being ridiculous, but they were going to do their best not to openly tell you. It was a joyous laugh that was both humiliating and comforting simultaneously.

“I nearly forgot Church Mouse said you were a preacher,” he said once his laughter had subsided enough for him to talk.

“Church Mouse?” You asked.

“We’re usin’ the parsonage,” he continued, practically ignoring your question. “We’re not intendin’ to disrespect you.”

He clapped you on the shoulder and cocked his hip. You could see why Lorraine liked him. Overconfident, cocky as hell, but his smile always seemed genuine. Somehow, some way, he had seemed to be in a good mood the entire trip and even now. Optimism at its finest. You wished you could match it.

“Although I do have a favour to ask you,” Wayne said, his voice carrying a lilt that had your stomach churning.

“Yes?” You asked even though you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to know.

“Think you can pray over this little set of ours?” He asked. “Help us break this bad streak we got goin’ on?”

“Oh,” you said with a huff, followed by a nervous chuckle. “Oh, I can do that then.”

Wayne smiled with his teeth and tipped his hat. “Thank ya kindly.”

You kept your eyes trained on the doors of the chapel while Wayne walked away, presumably to help set up whatever it was he was needing to set up. You could pray over the set. It was a little blasphemous to use prayer for something so… risque, but you weren’t a prude. After all, Daddy had always said everyone could use a little prayer.

The handle on the door was a beautiful polished silver; spare no expense for a house of God, of course. Hypocrites, the lot of them. But it was nice to open the doors without even the slightest resistance. Nothing was more terrifying than a run down church with creaky doors. It was like walking into a horror movie.

Your boots echoed off the empty wooden walls of the chapel as you walked down the center aisle, taking in everything about the building. It was a rather beautiful church, you wouldn’t try to deny it. A single, small stained glass window hung above the podium. It would cast a beautiful coloured light where the preacher would be standing on Sunday mornings.

There were three steps up to the podium before you stood behind the lectern and looked out onto the ghostly congregation. Not a single soul was inside the building, but from your spot above the room, you could feel the eyes on you. Momma, Roy, Jimmy. Granma and Granpa were in the back, followed by friends, family, everyone in the congregation that knew you excruciatingly well.

Then there was Daddy, sitting in the aisle of the front pew, watching you with that judgmental look. The one that he gave when he was condemning someone to hell for their sins. And he was looking at you, like he could see through your physical form, all the way to the filthy soul you hid underneath it all.

“You can’t wash away sin,” Daddy said.

You couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t-”

“-There you are.”

The entire congregation disappeared as soon as you saw Lorraine standing in the doorway. Light from the setting sun illuminated her outline, almost a perfect copy of the angel painted above the doorway. And she was. She was an angel, one that you would worship even as you were cast into the pits of hell.

“Thought we lost you,” Lorraine said as she walked down the aisle with far more confidence than she had at home.

Your breath caught in your throat when she finally stepped out of the light in a startling white dress. It looked far too close to a wedding dress. It didn’t make sense, but you couldn’t quit staring. She looked so beautiful. Her smile was illuminating; it left your palms sweaty and your chest hurt-

-you gasped and pulled your hand away from the wooden lectern. The smallest splinter was stuck in your right index finger. It was easy enough to pull out, leaving behind a scarlet drop of blood that grew until dripping down your finger.

“Are you alright?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but when you looked back up Lorraine was in normal clothes. The very same ones she had worn on the trip over. The one she had never changed out of. Right. Maybe you really were crazy.

“I’m fine,” you said with a simple nod. “Just-” you sighed “-doin’ what Wayne asked.”

“Didn’t think he was a praying man,” she said with a frown. “Want some company?”

“Yeah,” you said with a soft smile. “Yeah, I do.”

As you walked down to the bottom of the three steps to meet Lorraine, the blood from your finger smeared across the finely polished wood. You left a stain on that church, same as your own. A stain that, as your Daddy constantly preached, you could never wash away.

—---

“You’re lookin’ a little green, sweetheart,” Huck whispered as he walked up to where you were standing in the back of the room.

“I’m not green,” you whispered back even as you continued to watch the scene unfold before you. “I just- I didn’t know the body could do that.”

“You’re such a preacher’s kid,” he said with a teasing lilt. Thankfully that was all he said before he crossed his arms over his chest and looked forward.

It wasn’t your first time seeing people having sex. You weren’t a complete fool, you had seen it before. Kind of. Okay, maybe it was the most tame sex in the world, but you had seen it! And you weren’t some sort of virgin either, so you weren’t totally in the dark. But you certainly hadn’t seen this before and it was… fascinating.

And a little concerning. Your head tilted. How did it even fit? Did Bobby-Lynn even genuinely find it enjoyable? Well, okay, after that noise you could believe that maybe she did. But all that other stuff, there was no way. No way at all- wait, that actually looked interesting. You wondered if Lorraine would like that.

"You're starin'," Huck whispered.

"I can't help it," you shot back. "It's like when you pass a car wreck. You can't look away."

"I think they would die if they heard you compare watchin' smut to a car wreck," he laughed. It was a little loud, you hoped the boom mic wouldn't pick it up.

"Where's your little boy toy?" You asked, hoping to take the awkward attention away from yourself. Even though you still couldn't look away from the scene. God, you hoped it was over soon.

"Your boyfriend," he said pointedly, "is downstairs talkin' with Maxine."

Oh Maxine. You had only known her for a few days, but you were starting to think she enjoyed stirring up trouble. Within moments of getting set up in the parsonage, she had made friendly with Huck and Beau. A little too friendly. You would have laughed about the whole situation if you hadn’t been attempting to act jealous to keep up the facade.

“Reckon I should go act the part of the jealous girlfriend, huh?” You asked.

“Yeah you should,” he whispered. “Though I doubt anyone will believe it with the way you’re watching your dear Rainey over there.”

You hated him for even bringing it up. So what if you had stopped watching Bobby-Lynn and instead watched Lorraine? The way she gently blew a few strands of hair out of her face while she held the boom mic as steady as you had ever seen. She wasn’t muscular by any means, but you could still see the tone in her shoulders. Or the… the little crinkle between her brows when she focused…

Okay, Huck was right, you needed to leave.

“Told you,” he said as you backed out of the room with a hellish heat in your cheeks.

As soon as the door closed behind you and the pornographic sounds muted, you could finally breathe again. Your mind was clear and you could walk down the stairs without a thought in your head. Well… maybe you had one or two thoughts, but it was okay. You could repent later at the chapel.

Maxine’s laughter was… almost adorable, if she wasn’t trying so hard to seduce Beau. Her nails lazily scratched up and down his bicep, and her face was embarrassingly close to his ear. If you had loved him the way you were supposed to, you would’ve been furious. Should have been furious.

You pictured Lorraine in Beau’s position. Sitting there with Maxine all over her, laughing at the unfunny jokes, leaning a little too close. It made your stomach turn. Your skin was hot and clammy and something pounded inside your head, screaming to be let out. There would have been no shame in your body for grabbing her and dragging her away.

Okay, there you go. Now you had the right feelings.

Your mind had already forgotten Lorraine wasn’t there when you sat in Beau’s lap. Like a good girlfriend should do, you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close, inhaling his scent. Sawdust. Something you supposed other women liked, which made him a downright tease.

“How’s your first smut viewin’ goin’?” Maxine asked, which instinctively had your nose scrunch before you regained composure. “That good, huh?”

“It ain’t bad,” you said. “Don’t think I really understand the appeal, though.”

“What part is… unappealing to you?” She asked, her voice far softer than necessary.

The way she leaned in closer, trailing her eyes over every inch of you… and maybe you could see the appeal. It was something about her hand that had moved from Beau’s arm to yours. Soft. Almost too soft, but you didn’t want it to stop. And she held eye contact like it was an art-

-oh, Maxine was dangerous.

“Oh,” Maxine said with a small smile, “so that’s what it is.”

What was that supposed to mean? You opened your mouth to ask, but the stairs started creaking from the heavy footsteps. The skin underneath Maxine’s fingers felt terribly cold when she pulled back. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t pull back before Lorraine appeared, her brows furrowed and eyes glued to her coworker.

Maxine just smiled.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” Lorraine asked. Anyone that didn’t know her well would have missed the slight elevation in her tone. A dangerous tone.

“Just learnin’ a bit about each other,” Maxine said. Her hand rested on your arm again and you felt a heat in your cheeks. “Since we’re stuck here together and all.”

Like the dutiful girlfriend, you hid your head in Beau’s neck and tried to ignore his slight shake of silent laughter.

That tension didn’t end even as the sun set and stars came out to play. Everyone relaxed and had their fun and it reminded you of nights with just the four of you. Laughing, teasing, seeing Huck and Beau get closer than when they were at your house. Not too close, but it was still enough. Hell, it was almost enough to ease the usual anger from Lorraine being with R.J.

Until a few days later when it was time for everyone to start paying up on their lost bets.

The days had already started off miserably. Since you were “officially” Beau’s girlfriend, you were set to share a bed with him. But when Huck snuck in and you all tried to fit three people on a twin size mattress? Well, that was just borderline impossible. Clearly it wasn’t fully impossible, seeing as how you all made it work, but that didn’t mean you actually slept at all through the night.

Tack onto that Lorraine and R.J. coming down at the same time each morning, and you realised that you were horribly, terribly alone? You would have killed someone to get even just a single blanket and a big empty spot on the floor. Let you lie like a dog while everyone else became stars.

The first to suffer was, of course, you. Now, you would admit, you had offered to pay up first. In your convoluted train of thought, the sooner you watched Lorraine’s scene, the sooner you could forget it. At least that was what you believed would happen. You hoped that’s what would happen.

But in the moment, as you watched Lorraine getting ready, you knew it wouldn’t be quite that simple. You had to watch her move, see the look on her face, listen to her moans. She certainly never sounded like that when you were with her. Was this something that she genuinely enjoyed? Were you nothing more than a pleasant distraction when she was practically forced to go back home?

“I can’t do this,” you whispered to yourself.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as everyone watched you back out of the room, practically tripping over your own feet in your haste. Each step felt like the ground was rushing up to meet you, even as you stayed perfectly upright. You wished you would just trip down the stairs, maybe then it would ease the spiraling of your thoughts.

Downstairs wasn’t much better when you were still aware of exactly what was going on upstairs. Did you mean anything to her? Really, truly? Surely you did, Lorraine was hardheaded, she wouldn’t entertain your presence if she didn’t want you there. On the other hand, she kept RJ around for nothing, so maybe you were on the same level.

You picked up one of the books you had found the other day; some book called The Dead Sea Scriptures. It wasn’t all that fantastic, your daddy actually had a copy in his office at the church. But at least it was a distraction. Just like you. Okay, that certainly wasn’t helpful. Maybe you needed a stiff drink too.

The Hollywood grade acting you did was enough to convince everyone you were just peachy. No one batted an eye when RJ, Wayne, and Jackson left the parsonage after finishing Lorraine’s scene. To get some more groceries, they had said. You didn’t care, it really didn’t matter one way or another where they went.

“So,” Maxine said as she sat down beside you on the couch. Well, she practically sat on you. “You’ve got some explainin’ to do.”

“I’m not explainin’ the book of Job,” you said without looking up from your book. “Jackson already believes there’s a dragon in it and I can’t have that argument again.”

“Not about that, silly,” she said; her hand was hot on your knee. “About you bein’ a third wheel.”

Oh you were not getting into that kind of conversation with Maxine. The past few days had been wonderful, and truthfully you had enjoyed it. They were all a bit… extravagant, but they were kind. As odd as it sounded to you, they felt more like family than most of your own family. You could see why Lorraine spent so much time with them even when she didn’t have to.

But you enjoying their company did not mean you wanted to get into the whole relationship conversation with Maxine.

“Your boys are some of those queers, huh?” She asked. “That’s why they’re up there filmin’ some fake scene while you’re down here.” Her hand squeezed right above your knee. “Readin’ some nerdy little book.”

“It was a bet,” you said. “We’ve always paid up, ever since we were little.” She smirked. “And my book ain’t nerdy.”

“It bother you that you gotta share your man?” She asked, as if you hadn’t even said anything in the first place.

“I-”

“-did you really start without me?” Bobby-Lynn asked when she appeared in the downstairs living room.

You did your best to conceal your displeasure when Bobby-Lynn practically ran over to sit on the other side of you. Her legs were bare, her denim shorts barely covering any part of her. She swung them over your own legs quickly, leaving you officially trapped underneath the both of them. You would’ve been lying if you said it didn’t make your stomach flip.

“How far did ya get?” Bobby-Lynn asked. She was practically bouncing in excitement.

“We just started,” Maxine answered with a smile that would have made you squirm if you weren’t so focused on trying to figure out what was going on.

“Don’t y’all have scenes to shoot?” You asked in a desperate attempt to get them to leave you alone before they really got started.

“Don’t you have someone you should be thinkin’ about?” Maxine asked.

You opened your mouth instinctively, ready to argue, especially when Bobby-Lynn continued to lean closer. They both had some nerve to believe they could catch you off guard with their interrogation that was only just beginning. They had known you for, what, all of a few days? And still they thought they could get something like this out of you? They were pornstars, not detectives.

“Of course I’m thinkin’ about her-”

-maybe they were detectives.

You threw your head back against the couch, a groan leaving your lips. On either side of you, both women practically cheered, giving each other a high-five. It was disgusting, were you nothing more than a pawn in whatever game they were playing? Your daddy was right; couldn’t trust sinners.

You actively ignored the fact that you were one of them.

“Why the long face, sweetheart?” Bobby-Lynn asked.

“It’s not like we couldn’t tell,” Maxine said.

What was that supposed to mean? How did they even notice? As far as you could remember, you hadn’t even spent hardly any time in the same room as Lorraine. How could they get some sort of scandal out of that? Let alone the fact you thought you had said maybe three words to her after she had helped you pray over set on that first day. No, none of that made sense.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” you said as you finally pulled yourself back upright, ignoring that Maxine’s and Bobby-Lynn’s faces were so close to yours they could kiss your cheeks if they wanted.

“You think every girl is fine with their boyfriend hookin’ up with another guy?” Bobby-Lynn asked.

You knew that would be the issue. You knew it, and you had told all three of them that it was shady at best. There was no logical reason for it, even if it was from some stupid bet. It may have been the 80s, but not everyone was as easy going as the four of you were. Not everyone was as understanding, and though that wasn’t the current issue, it still played its part.

“Not to mention all the lookin’ you’ve been doin’,” Bobby-Lynn chimed in. “You certainly ain’t lookin’ at Beau that way.”

“I-” you closed your mouth just as quickly as you had opened it. What were you going to say to argue? What could you say?

“Honey, we ain’t judgin’,” Maxine said. Her hand felt warm on your neck. She was far too close for comfort. “But this whole thing is pretty sad.”

“It ain’t that sad,” you pitifully attempted to argue.

“Darlin’, it’s downright painful,” Bobby-Lynn said. Her going back and forth with Maxine was giving you whiplash. “Ain’t never seen anyone pine like that.”

“It’s a bit pathetic,” Maxine said.

“Hey,” you said, your eyebrows instantly furrowing. “Hold your horses, that’s unnecessary.”

“Don’t be gettin’ so defensive,” Bobby-Lynn said with a smile that was to die for. “We’re here to help.”

“By throwin’ my self-esteem out the window?” You asked.

“Oh no,” Maxine said with a slowly growing smile, “it’s much better than that.”

This time, when your stomach twisted into knots again, you didn’t feel quite so dreadful about the upcoming plans.

—---

After Bobby-Lynn and Maxine had told you about their sneaky little plan, the parsonage had felt a little less like a prison. When all the guys got back and everyone finished upstairs, you almost felt at peace. There was still the lingering tension when both Lorraine and RJ were in the room, but you could work with it. And for once, you didn’t feel quite so bad when you met Lorraine’s eyes.

“How many scenes we got left?” Wayne asked when everyone settled downstairs for supper.

In a very selfless move, you had offered to cook. It certainly wasn’t because you didn’t want to have to look at anyone while Bobby-Lynn and Maxine got to work on their plan. That would have been selfish, and you were nothing if not a good, selfless, Christian girl.

“Only two or three, we can finish them tomorrow,” RJ said from his spot beside Lorraine on the couch.

“Me and Maxine have an addition to make,” Bobby-Lynn said.

“An addition?” Wayne asked. “What kind?”

“Well,” Maxine said, drawing out the word for longer than necessary, “we were thinkin’ our little Preacher would look awful pretty on her knees.”

“Excuse me?” Lorraine asked.

Suddenly, the food you were cooking required the utmost attention. It would be quite the shame if you burned something. After all, everyone back there was working rather hard on their scenes, they deserved a good meal, didn’t they? And if it gave you an excuse to not see the look on Lorraine’s face then, well, that’s just an added bonus.

“Fitting, ain’t it?” Bobby-Lynn asked.

“And we’d take good care of her,” Maxine drawled. Oh, they were really testing the waters.

It seemed to be working.

“She’s not part of this,” Lorraine said.

“Wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” RJ said. “Might draw more attention to the film.”

“It’s smut, RJ,” she continued, “it draws enough attention on its own.”

“Well hold on now, let’s talk this out,” Wayne said.

Everyone started talking - except, you noticed, for Maxine - and you almost wanted to laugh. If you had known this was all it would take to get Lorraine on edge, you would’ve said something like this ages ago. It sounded like she didn’t even care that RJ was in the room. It was… a nice feeling.

“Did you plan this?” Beau asked, suddenly appearing beside you.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” you said softly with a shrug. “Everyone here has a mind of their own.”

“Well keep it up,” he said as he rested his hand on the small of your back, “because I think it’s workin’.”

“The answer’s no,” Lorraine said.

“Well why don’t we ask her?” Bobby-Lynn said.

Silence fell over the room quickly; it was suffocating. If you could have, you would have slunk away to the room you shared with the boys. Even before turning around you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. Maybe, if you were really lucky, you could get away without actually answering the question.

That possibility was struck down the moment you turned your head to look out into the room.

Lorraine was looking at you expectantly, most likely believing she knew what you were going to say. In any other situation, she would have been right. You wanted no one but her, and everyone was more than aware of it. Well, everyone but Wayne, RJ, and potentially Jackson. Though judging by the way Jackson was looking at you, he knew too.

“Might be fun,” you said with a shrug and turned back around. “I can always repent next door.”

“Are you serious?” Lorraine asked.

At that you turned back around and leaned your hip against the counter. Was she really going to question you? After what she did for a living? Not once had you ever judged her for it, you had even helped her make light of it when she felt guilt creeping in. She had the nerve to question you?

“Like a heart attack, honey,” you said with far more confidence than you felt.

The look Lorraine gave you was deadly.

“Seems we got our answer,” Maxine said.

Lorraine missed the look she gave Bobby-Lynn.

—---

You hadn’t been asleep for long when the door of your room creaked open. Part of you wished it would have stayed closed; it was the first night you weren’t sleeping on the floor while Huck and Beau took the bed. Maxine was becoming a godsend; she’s the one who had convinced the boys to sleep in the van outside.

“Are you asleep?” Lorraine asked quietly after the door had clicked shut.

“Yes,” you said even as you sat up and looked at her.

She was in the nightgown you remembered getting her for her birthday. Her other one had been so old, there was no way it had even been comfy anymore. Not to mention she had made sure to let you know at every opportunity how badly she needed a new one. Clearly RJ hadn’t listened, so you had gotten it yourself. It was mighty cute, if you did say so yourself.

Lorraine tip-toed her way to the bed, whispering a quick “scoot over” before crawling underneath the covers with you. Even though the temperature outside was mild, her feet were freezing. Which she made sure to make you aware of when she stuck them against your legs, her smile taking over when you yelped and shivered.

“Were you serious about doin’ a scene with Bobby-Lynn and Max?” She asked as she reached out to force her folded hands between yours. She was freezing all over.

“Depends,” you said even as you started trying to warm up her hands. “Were you bein’ serious about tellin’ me no?”

“Of course I was,” she said indignantly.

“Then so was I,” you said.

Lorraine groaned. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack,” you said just as quickly.

Even though you weren’t serious at all. That was never the actual plan. The plan was simply to get Lorraine jealous enough to come into the room and, what would you know, that’s exactly what she had done. Even if absolutely nothing else happened, you would be happy. At least you got to spend a night with her without having to keep it a total secret.

“Why would you want to do this?” She asked. “It’s not like you don’t know how it works.”

“Maybe I want to learn a few things,” you said with as much of a shrug as you could do lying on your side.

“What could you possibly learn from smut?” Lorraine asked. “It’s all fake.”

“Were all those noises you made fake?” You asked. “Cause you never do that with me.”

The look on her face was almost offensive. Her eyes lit up like she was in on some little secret. Was she really going to laugh at you? She never laughed at you, not even when she rightfully should. Her hand now cupping your jaw was not enough to distract from the fact she was laughing.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” She asked. “You think I don’t like havin’ sex with you?”

“Not that you don’t like it,” you said quickly. “Just that,” you sighed, “you don’t like it as much.”

Her thumb brushed against your bottom lip. “You make me feel things none of those guys could even dream of.”

“Well you have to say that now,” you said as you leaned further into her hand. “Otherwise I wouldn’t let you put your cold feet on me.”

Her smile slipped to something a little different, a bit more seductive. You didn’t put up any resistance as she used her elbow to push your shoulder until you were laying on the bed. With the same ease as you had seen numerous times, she followed, her legs on either side of you and her weight resting comfortable on top of you. A position you very much loved, even without the arousal that came with it.

“Is there any way I can convince you not to film tomorrow?” Lorraine asked, lowering her tone in such a way that had you squirming underneath her. “What can I do?”

God you were pathetic, she hadn’t even touched you yet.

It was supposed to be a simple question, but you took it to heart. Of course she could convince you, you weren’t planning on filming anyway, but what could you get out of this arrangement? There had to be something you truly wanted, especially now that you had some sort of leverage.

Ah. That was it.

“Somethin’ we haven’t done before,” you said. “Somethin’ you like.”

Her smile slowly grew as she thought of what she wanted. The weight on top of you shifted until her hands pressed your shoulders further into the mattress. You felt her breath on your lips before you felt her kiss, quick and soft and eager. It was enough to get your heart racing even when she pulled away. She was off you in a moment, practically running out of the room.

You sat up on your elbows and watched the open door. What was she doing? Surely she wasn’t going to just leave, right? No, she wouldn’t do that. Right? That had been one of her more mischievous smiles, and she was absolutely one for payback. But you also knew Lorraine was nothing if not eternally aroused, so surely she wouldn’t just leave.

At least she better not, because if she teased you like that only to go and get back in bed with RJ, you were going to lose your mind. You weren’t usually one to make a scene, but you could always make an exception. The wrath of God, and all that good preacher nonsense.

You’re in a house of sin.

Yes you were, and you were going to partake in it for the night. Repentance was only 50 feet and a few hours away. If Lorraine could remove her cross necklace during scenes, surely you could remove the guilt from your chest for a few hours. God may have been in the walls, watching your every move, but He could look away for the time. You were far past the point of caring.

By the time Lorraine came back into the room, you were already jittery. Her hands were behind her back as she closed the door quietly, the click almost inaudible. that mischievous smile was back, but you noticed the way she tapped her foot against the floor, still in the same spot.

“You promise you wanna try somethin’ new?” She asked, her voice uncertain, carrying over the thick air.

“I’m sure,” you said, “just get over here.”

Her steps were slow, methodical on the straight path to the bed. The whole way her hands stayed behind her back. You wondered what she had, but you couldn’t think too hard. Hell, the sway of her hips could have made you forget your own name.

That familiar weight settled on you again as Lorraine straddled you, placing whatever was in her hands off to the side, just out of your sight. When you tried to twist and look at it, she pressed down against your shoulders again, her lips instantly finding yours.

Her nightgown rested high on her thighs, and you were never one to keep your hands to yourself. She sighed when you slid your hands under her nightgown, resting on her hips. Her breath tickled on your cheek. You couldn’t hold back your quiet chuckle, which Lorraine returned, smiling into the kiss.

“Don’t tickle,” she mumbled against your lips.

“What,” you said just as softly, “that ain't romantic?”

She laughed again, eliciting the same sound out of you as your hands continued up. Your knuckles brushed against the underside of her breasts, transforming her laugh into something a little more breathy but no less joyful. A sound that, you decided, was much better than anything you had heard during her scene.

“Take it off, Raine,” you said.

“What's the magic word?” She said before sitting up straight.

“Please,” you said breathlessly.

She barely waited for the word to leave your mouth before she pulled the nightgown over her head. Every time you saw her undress was like the first time. Your heart raced as she uncovered every inch of skin, from her thighs to her hips to her breasts. Not a single space had been neglected by you in your times together, and you weren't going to start that night.

You sat up, keeping a hand on Lorraine's back to keep her in your lap. She didn't hesitate to grab your face and pull you into a kiss. It immediately shot a wave of arousal down your spine, pooling in your lower abdomen. And for once, that usual spark of guilt was absent.

“Yours too,” she barely managed to say between kisses.

You couldn't speak, simply nodded as you fumbled around like a teenager. Or course the hem of your shirt would hide from you on the one night you not only had Lorraine, but a bed. She laughed again and pulled away. You tried to chase her - you would always try to chase her - but she pulled back again and placed a finger to your lips.

“Let me help,” she said.

Her fingers were so light against your skin that it tickled. She found the hem of your shirt quickly but took her sweet time pulling it up. Those delectable nails of hers scratched against your skin the entire time. Over your sides, the sides of your breasts, the underside of your arms as you held them up for her to finish pulling the shirt off.

“Is this Beau’s?” She asked.

“It’s comfy,” you said meekly.

She tossed the shirt to the side. “You should wear one of mine sometime.”

“I thought you liked me better shirtless,” you teased.

“Maxine has a word for people like you,” Lorraine said when she pulled you back in for a kiss. “She'd call you a minx.”

“I like it,” you said, kissing her back and running your knuckles over her nipples. Her shiver was delightful. “Sounds downright sinful.”

“Stop talking,” she said.

And oh god you did. How could you even consider doing anything else when you were enveloped by her? Her scent, her taste, the feel of her skin, warm against yours. If kissing her was the final nail in your coffin, you would accept death gracefully and with no regrets.

She nipped your lip when you lightly pinched her nipples. Never hard enough to hurt, no, but just enough to draw the most perfect little yelp from her lips. In return, her hands fell to your ribs, pushing against you until you were laying on the bed again.

You shifted, pulling your knee up until you pressed against her. She let out a breathy sigh, but otherwise kept kissing you. There was just something mesmerizing about the way she tasted. An ambrosia not for the gods, but for you alone. A sustenance for your very mind, body, and soul.

“Take these off,” Lorraine said, pulling lightly against the pants that you had also stolen from Beau.

In your defense, he was your fake boyfriend.

“Will you take yours off?” You asked even though you had already started trying to take your pants off.

She nodded hastily. “I want to feel you for a moment.”

You would've happily let her feel you for as long as she wished. All she had to do was give you the smile she was giving you in that moment. The one she had before the accident, the one she saved exclusively for the times she was alone with you. If she looked at you like that for the rest of eternity, you would be in heaven.

Her skin was hot against yours as she laid completely on top of you. On instinct, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and back as she tucked her head into your neck. Her breath tickled your collar bone, but you couldn't have been happier.

How could such peace be a sin? Such pure love, something that would not only be applauded but praised if you had but been born a man? What difference could there truly be, aside from the shape of your body. The guilt sparked in your chest once again, but this time, you quickly stomped it out.

You would not be shamed for loving Lorraine. Not that night.

The position you were both in was comfortable and, quite frankly, innocent. But that didn't ease the inferno that was still raging inside you. If you had the ability to have Lorraine to yourself more than once in a blue moon, you would have been satisfied. But the “lust of the flesh,” as daddy called it, was as present and angry as always.

Thankfully, Lorraine seemed to feel the same when you felt her hips move and you felt her arousal on your thigh.

“Wanna try somethin’ new?” She asked, placing a seemingly innocuous kiss behind your ear.

“With you?” You asked. You placed your finger under her chin and lifted her face until you could see her eyes. “Always.”

She smiled and kissed you quickly before sitting up. You tried to sit up with her, but she used her bad hand to push you back down with ease. Not that it stopped you from trying to look around her to see the thing she had brought into the room. Her smile turned nervous, but no less excited as she finally turned back around.

“Is that-”

“-Maxine and Bobby-Lynn used one like it a few times,” Lorraine started to explain while she started pulling straps around your hips and thighs. “I asked ‘em to get me one not too long ago.”

“Jesus, Raine,” you said as she pulled the straps tighter.

“It works the same as-”

“-I can guess how it works,” you interrupted.

Her hands slowed to a stop as she finished securing the… phallic toy in place. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Lorraine,” you said as softly as you could, finally sitting up - as best you could without feeling too awkward - and placing your hand on the scarred side of her jaw. “I’m more than okay with it.” She leaned further into your hand. “If you asked me to wear only my boots and spurs, I would do it.”

“Oh yeah?” She asked, her teasing smile coming back in full force.

“Don’t push your luck, Day,” you said before leaning forward to kiss her again.

She moaned softly into the kiss. “If I did it right, you should feel it too,” she said as she lifted herself onto her knees, hovering over you. “So let me know.”

You nodded and pulled her into a kiss. As curious as you were to watch, you wanted to feel her lips against yours. You knew the moment she lowered herself onto the toy; her gasp was to die for. Shorty, breathy, almost inaudible if you hadn’t been kissing her already. The sound alone was enough to leave you soaking and needy.

But then you felt the toy press against you, and you knew you were a goner. Lorraine stayed still in your lap, catching her breath, and you would have been more than happy to keep her there. If she moved, you swore you would cum on the spot. It wasn’t a feeling that was so much better than everything else, but simply the knowledge that you were both feeling something together.

“I guess it works,” Lorraine teased even though she could barely keep herself in control.

“It does,” you said through clenched teeth as you tried to stay strong when she started moving again.

She didn’t have to move for long before you pulled her into a kiss, holding her tight against you. You did your best to move your hips with her. It was awkward and clumsy, and you both laughed a little when, more than once, you moved wrong and the toy slipped out. But you were okay with that, because it meant you got to hear her little gasp again.

As wrong as it felt, you had to picture Jackson to get a good rhythm going, or at least to get started. Specifically, you thought of the way his hips had moved with each thrust. You knew you got it right when Lorraine moaned, her head falling to your shoulder. If you hadn’t been so focused on not cumming or losing your rhythm, you would’ve moaned just the same.

“Baby,” she mumbled against your neck. Her nails dug into your shoulders; you would have to cover the marks up in the morning.

You knew what she wanted; she only ever truly called you “baby” when she was almost ready to cum. And you were more than happy to oblige. You kept one arm wrapped tight around her waist, holding her in place while your free hand slid down her stomach. Past the almost unnoticeable scatter of scars and through that small patch of hair.

Her hips jolted against your hand when you brushed against her clit. It was sloppy work; you would need to get used to the unusual angle later. But clearly it didn’t matter, because while her moans stayed quiet, they got higher in pitch until she bit down on your shoulder.

You used that as your sign to follow her, not even needing three more thrusts before you tipped over the edge along with her. You held her tight, hyper aware of every inch of her skin against yours. Of the slick sweat that coated both your bodies. Of the sting of her teeth and nails, but you would rather die than have her stop. Of your breaths intermingling between you until you were of one breath, one heartbeat, one soul.

Heaven existed, and it was right in that moment with Lorraine.

“You’re bleedin’,” she said softly. You didn’t have to look to know what she meant.

“It’s alright,” you said, pressing a light kiss to the side of her head. “You can nurse me back to health later.”

Lorraine giggled. A light sound that reminded you of when you were all kids and you would do anything to get that sound out of her. It was a reminder of simpler times, back when you were too young to understand that everyone believed what you felt for each other was wrong. A sin. Back when love was just that; love.

You let yourself fall back onto the bed, pulling Lorraine with you. She made a small noise when the toy moved inside her, but quickly settled back onto your chest. Her nails felt good scratching lightly against your skin, more comforting than ticklish. A nervous habit of hers.

“Did you learn all that from Jackson?” She asked.

“Don’t remind me,” you said; she chuckled. “I ain’t proud to say I had to picture him there for a minute.”

“Well, you gave him a run for his money,” she said.

“Think so?” You asked; you felt her nod against your chest. “Cause you still didn’t make the same noises.”

“Because these were real,” she said. Her voice grew quiet. “Everything with you is real.”

You wished she wouldn’t say things like that. That she could just let you both lie there, comfortable in the silence. Everyone was aware of the situation, but just once you wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening. That you actually did get to love her without feeling shame or guilt.

You just pulled her closer.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you,” she repeated.

It wasn’t enough, but for the moment, you were going to pretend it was. For the moment, you could pretend this was your daily life. Being in the same bed as Lorraine, showing her just how much you loved her, how much she truly meant to you. Holding her tight until you were of the same body and spirit, because no matter what the world thought, you were.

It wasn’t enough. But it would do.

“Are you really goin’ to film a scene tomorrow?” Lorraine asked.

“Absolutely not,” you said. “Bobby-Lynn and Maxine just wanted to getcha all riled up.”

Lorraine lifted her head from your chest and lowered her brows.

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” you said with a smile.

“Sometimes I hate all of y’all,” she mumbled, quickly ducking her head back underneath your jaw. You still managed to catch the smile on her lips.

“I love you too, darlin’,” you said, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head.

Now this. This was enough.

#lorraine day x reader #lorraine x reader #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader

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perkqularkreashions · 3 months

Text

Living with the Enemy, Joe Goldberg x Reader

Part 1: Last Nice Guy in New York??

Prompt: YN is close friends with Peach, Annika, Beck, and Lynn. She doesn't fit into their circle, nor does she try to. Joe soon sets his sights on YOU, leading to a domino effect within Y/N's life.

Requested: YES | Requested are OPEN|

Warnings: Mature Content, Manipulation, Stalking, Slightly Proofread.

It had been some time since you last spoke with Peach and her willing and obedient entourage. You blissfully ignored them, avoiding the usual hangouts and skipping daily walks with your son. You took different routes and dined at other eateries, and for a while, you enjoyed this simple and slow-paced lifestyle.

It was a particularly warm day in New York; the increasing winds had died, allowing you to turn off the space heaters that litter your apartment. You relished the smell of cleaning products and baby formula rather than burning rubber. You watched as Rafi bounced around in his walker from his room back to the living room. His hand slapped against some trinket that sang a quick tune of “You are my sunshine.” It was probably his favorite plaything on that bouncer, but it annoyed the absolute hell out of you. The loud and high-pitched continuous loop of "you are my sunshine... my only sunshine", but he loved it, so you endure it. You cracked open the window, allowing the fresh air to filter into the apartment, the warm breeze washing over you briefly before returning to stillness. Contently, you sighed. Your eyes flickered to the door; a hesitant knock followed by two more confident knocks. You shuffled off the couch, unable to gaze through the peephole due to the grime built up over the years. You mentally noted that you need to tell the landlord about that. Unlocking your three deadbolts, you pressed your ear against the door, hearing the muffled female voices.

You opened the door and noticed Peach, Beck, Lynn, and Annika. Your eyes widened as you stumbled back, Peach charging into the apartment. Her eyes glanced around as she brightly smiled at Rafi before returning her cold gaze to you. She crosses her arms, waiting for you to fill the silence with an apology. The tension hung in the air like a heavy fog, palpable and suffocating everyone as they all watched you, their once easy rapport replaced by an uneasy silence. Every word left unsaid seemed to echo between them, filling the space with a sense of unease that was almost tangible. You chuckled before turning away, gathering some of Rafi’s items out of habit. “You don’t just go MIA for weeks like that!” Everyone slowly shifts into the apartment; you feel suffocated. “I called, you never answer.”

You plainly answered, “I know.” You shoved some clothes into the hamper before returning to the group. You tried to think of something to say and formulate something harsh and crude to say back to Peach and her brainless minions that followed her every call, jumping at the snap of her fingers and pleading for some sort of acceptance from her. You sighed, sitting on the sage-colored love seat, your elbows resting on your knees as you rubbed your temples gently. “Peach, you and your…whatever this is. Can happily get the fuck out of my apartment. You can’t just storm into my home and expect me to drop to my knees begging for you to what…forgive me?”

You felt the couch dip next to you, the smell of her engulfing you. It iterated the fuck out of you yet offered you a warm feeling. She was home; despite her manipulation, gas-lighting, and bitch behavior, she was home. You finally looked at her, your face growing warm as you pressed your lips together. Her smile growing as she knew, she squealed, wrapping her arms around you. “Say you forgive us… me?” You nodded against her before pulling back. “Great, let’s go out to eat! We’ve missed you and have lots to catch you up on!”

You nodded, pressing a feigned smile on her lips; Annika smiled, wrapping you in a brief, one-armed hug. She was followed by Lyn, who seemed more than pleased that you had returned. They moved away, gawking at Rafi as they spoke with him in an annoying, high-pitched tone. They were flashing toys in front of him before snatching them quickly as he giggled loudly. You stood beside Beck; an awkward silence washed over you both. Beck wanted to speak… she wanted to ask if what Peach had been filling in her head was true. Suppose you had been trying to pine after Joe; how would she feel? She admitted her feelings for Joe were growing; she liked having him around and the attention he provided her when Benji was off on a binge of whatever drug would provide him with whatever relief. “We missed you… I missed you,” Beck spoke, cutting through the silence.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, bumping into her shoulder and offering her a half smile. She tucked a small piece of hair behind her ear.

“I’ve been dying to tell you about everything, I mean everything,” Beck whispers through her laugh as she watches you for a moment. Beck confided you about everything; you weren’t judgmental and never gave advice—you were just a lending ear that she craved in the whirlpool that was Peach. You sighed, knowing that no matter where you were in your life and how far you thought you had escaped Peach, she was always lurking in the shadows, ready to devour you at any minute.

You hummed softly, your hand occasionally, moving the visor back to check to see if your son was still alive. Your hand fluttered in front of his face; quickly, he reached for your fingers. You had spent most of the morning shopping for groceries and wanting to find some fresh produce. You gathered green apples, strawberries, and some blueberries. It has been a slow-paced morning; class was canceled, you were finally caught up on your assignments, and only needed to grade some papers from some of your classes. You hadn’t seen Peach since your lunch date with the girls two weeks ago. It was spent, for the most part, talking about Beck’s choices in men and the plethora of men that have taken her to bed… all this steaming from Benji ghosting her. You didn’t know what she saw in him, but he was a poser and couldn’t hold down an idea, let alone his own business. She had fucked, Mr. Bedroom Eyes, someone that she had met in the library, all while leading on Joe and worrying about Benji.

Your eyes shifted slightly; noticing him underneath the navy-blue baseball cap, he examined the fruit before placing it down. You smiled brightly, peering left and right before approaching him. You stuttered for a moment; wait is it weird that you were approaching him? Did you even need to say hello? You stood behind him, mindlessly watching his gaze at the fruit. Weaving through the throngs of people as your eyes held steady on him, your hands tightening against the stroller. Panic surged through you, threatening to overwhelm my senses as your hands hesitantly reach out to his shoulder. Joe jumped as he spun around; a toothy grin fell on his lips as his eyes shifted to Rafi. “Sorry, this must be weird.” You quickly tried to explain, and yet there you stood.

“No!” Joe smiled, “No weird at all.” He watched you, taking in your beauty from the curve of your lips to the furrow of your brows. Your eyes are a soft color, filled with so much emotion. He contained his excitement, continuing to handle the slightly ripe peach in his hand. A soft breath of relief escaped your lips; Joe watched you, taking in every moment, from the twitch of your eye when you smiled to the slight tightening of your hands against the stroller’s handle. Were you nervous? You didn’t need to be! I am all yours! Joe’s thoughts muddled aggressively through his head, his eyes concentrating more on your slight movements, the way you shifted your weight to your left hip as you stood there, watching him. Your index finger nervously taps before stopping.

“Good, I thought it’d be weird if I recognized you in this crowded space,” you laughed; it was soft. A small smile crept on his face as he moved closer to you, a single step to be closer to you. You slightly shifted, leaning against the stroller as you pushed it in front of you before bringing it back. “It’s nice to see you again.” Your heart fluttered as you watched his goofy take hold of his lips. His cheeks dusted pink as he nodded hesitantly; he stepped forward, watching you walk away in the crowd, occasionally wiggling your fingers in front of your son’s view.

“Are you alone?” Joe mentally cringed as you paused, peering over your shoulder in confusion, “I meant, I could keep you company while you go shopping… If you don’t mind.” Do you mind? You wouldn’t mind, would you? Joe thought; he watched you ponder his offer, and you fully faced him as you smiled, nodding at him. Joe joined you, shoulders bumping into each other as you continued to walk through the farmer’s market. Looking at the different herbs and vegetation sprawled on the tables, you fingered at them, rubbing your fingers with a concentrated look on your face as Joe pushed Rafi. Joe watched you in awe, his hand gripping against the stroller in angst and yearning. He watched you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear; you quickly turned to him, putting a strong-smelling herb in his face. He winced as he swatted at his nose; you laughed softly before agreeing with the saleswoman that the left one was more pungent.

“My mom made this weird-tasting soup for me when I was sick, but it always helped. It helps when Rafi has a little bug. He hates it; he scratches at my arms when I force-feed it to him.” You laughed, showing him the small craters in her skin that hadn’t healed properly. Joe took your arm, letting his thumb trace over the craters. “He’s so mean when he wants to be; I guess he gets that from his dad.” Joe watched you, taking in every word that was said.

“His dad hit you?” You were stunned; you placed the herbs in your tote bag before looking at Rafi, making a slight face and tickling him. Joe observed you, your face tense as you seemingly tried to feign enjoyment in the brief time with your son. He watched how you weren’t standing so close to him; your shoulders still touched every again, but not the same as before. Joe cursed at himself for bringing it up; Joe hated that he made you feel so small and helpless again. You froze at the sound of your name; Joe noticed it, too. He peered over his shoulder seeing someone rush to you, his hand waving wildly as he began to jog to catch up to you. He called your name again. Joe’s eyes flickered at you, and you were frozen, eyes wide in fear. Joe leaned closer to you, but you were snapped out of thoughts when the man stood directly behind you. You slowly turned, now facing the stranger. Joe watched the man; something about was familiar, the curve of his lip and the bushiness of his brow. His hair was long and pulled into a rendition of a man-bun with some pieces falling in front of his face; he was clean-shaven and muscular. His skin was a deep cooper color that glistened but wasn’t sweat…more of an oil-based lotion.

“It’s been so long!” he smiled with a bright smile, teeth perfect and in a row, no obscurities or imperfection. He tried reaching out for a hug, but you backed away, letting a small smile rest on your lips. You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to for Joe to notice how uncomfortable you were. “Who’s this?” His eyes never left yours. Joe could see the intimidation in his eyes, and his smile never reached his eyes when he spoke.

Joe moved the stroller before him, stretching his hand in the process; a bright smile rested on his lips. “Joe.” The man didn’t acknowledge him or care for his name. Finally, he passed him a glance, his face churning into a distasteful look. His eyes moved to the stroller, and as a bright smile crossed his lips, he bent down for a moment. Wiggling at Rafi’s shoes, speaking in a babbled baby talk before looking up to you again.

“You know he misses you and him; you shouldn’t run away. Especially with his child.” The man spoke, and he stood to his feet. “See around.” He spoke before brushing past you. Joe grabbed your arm, and you winced momentarily, flinching away from him. Your eyes finally connected with Joe’s; you sucked in a deep breath before grabbing unto the stroller. A sense of comfort washed over you.

“Thanks for today… for this. I appreciate it,” you hummed. Joe nodded, watching you walk away; his eyes focused on the man who had ruined your perfect day together. It started innocently enough, stumbling into an impromptu game of hide-and-seek. Plunging into the maze of crowds, Joe found himself, trailing the stranger, drawn by the same curiosity that everyone in the market has. Joe shadowed his movements, picking up a weathered journal or a fruit that was slightly ripe. His eyes cut to the man every chance he had gotten. As Joe meanders through the maze of makeshift booths and colorful displays, the man he’s following remains blissfully unaware of his presence. They weave through the crowd, partaking in a dance that only Joe is aware of.

“Dom! Dom! Dom Batista! As I live and breathe in the flesh it is you!” Joe groaned at the dramatic nature of New Yorkians, every word that stumbles out of their mouth an illicit affair with Shakespeare and a Soap Opera. “It has been so long since we’ve last seen each other!”

Joe followed behind you, face low as he watched you hurriedly move through the streets, passing men and women alike.

Batista….Batista….Batista is the name of a Judge in New York City; their mother was an actress who starred in plenty of movies before her fall from grace and getting addicted to cocaine. They had three children, three boys: Jonathan, the oldest—who was a criminal defense attorney. He was married with two sons. He didn’t post on social media, but his wife, Mary Glassgo, came from an Affluent family in Virginia who had established wealth through “other means.” during the late 1700s, did, in fact, post and posted often. She was overly descriptive and pictured all the locations where they dined, shopped, and vacationed. She was on a trip with her two sons, enjoying the mountains in Vermont. The caption was, “Can’t get away from life all the time, but when I do, it’s always with my two favorite boys.” Joe followed you across the street, scrolling through her Instagram until he came across a photo from Thanksgiving; he dragged his thumb across the screen, revealing a picture of her and another man who looked similar to Jonathan, tagged was St_Do_Batista. Dominick, the middle— Joe, recgonized him as the man he saw today; he frequently posted almost every day at the gym. He was a professional boxer; his face wasn’t riddled with too many lacerations and scars, which indicated that he was good at his craft. He had a girlfriend, one of many girlfriends. They all came and gone, as soon as a new one would be posted with a bright smile, not knowing her fate. Petite blondes, curvy brunettes, tall red-heads, even some bald girls with tattoos riddling every surface of their bodies.

“Hello….” Joe thought; he scrutinized the photo, and you were smiling, your cheek pressed against him as you embraced him. He just won a fight; he hugged you tight. Joe scrolled to the following image… it was a video; he played it. You giggled as he spun, cheering as one hand held you tight against him. You spoke gently, words that the camera didn’t pick up, nor did anyone else. He continued to scroll as he noticed that most photos were of you cooking in his house, at the park with him, on his couch with the laptop tucked on your thighs as you carefully examined whatever was on the screen. You took up a majority of his life and then nothing. Joe saw a picture of him and another look similar to the Batista family; he clicked on the tagged name. RafiBat didn’t post much, but when he did, he generated a lot of attention from women. He was a boxer, too, and he and his brother were often referred to as the Basista Brothers. He didn’t post you often, once or twice; that was in photos with Dominick. But it was evident that you both were friends. He was attending a university known for its Marine Biology program. He had been traveling overseas, where he had been for the last few months, pictures of him with sharks, fish, turtles, and some other classmates. There was a picture of you, smiling brightly in his bed with her belly exposed; it was small, possibly in the early months of your pregnancy. His caption read “My Everything.”

Joe’s attention was averted to the left as he noticed someone briskly walking, eyes concentrated on you. His hand dug into his pocket as he pulled out his phone, dialing quickly. He spoke before hanging up. Did you not notice? Did you feel someone following you? Joe broke off in a sprint, laughing softly before calling out your name; you peered over your shoulder in confusion, hesitating as you squinted your eyes at him.

Joe’s body collided against yours, taking your hand as he smiled gently. “Why’d you run off like that? I was looking for you everywhere!” he calls out exaggeratedly loud, his hand falling at his side; he watched your wide eyes swiftly snap to him while he continued to guide you forward, Joe’s hand pressed on your lower back. “Someone has been following you,” he whispered through a gritted smile. Her body stiffened as his words echoed through the stillness in the air; you were tempted to look, her head inching to the left slightly. “No, don’t look… Just keep walking baby.” You hummed in understanding. Joe peered over his shoulder, watching the man avoiding the dim street lights, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his body focused ahead of him, but he could see the whites of his eyes and the darkness of his orbs staring deep into your side. Then Joe remembered the small encounter you had at Peach’s party, the drunken party-goer grabbing you, retelling his woes of missing their friend group and a man who seemed to miss you just as much. Your body reacted negatively, your eyes watering, and your skin paled as you stumbled away from him. Joe watched your hands dance against your face, trying to wipe the anxiety that was trailing through your body. Joe wanted to lead you home, protecting you from the evils lurking in the shadows you weren’t aware of. Joe allowed you to lead you both to your apartment complex. Joe swiftly grabbed Rafael, allowing you to close the stroller. You put in the code 76477; Joe held open the door as you shuffled in your hands, digging through your satchel in search of your keys. He noticed three locks; just as if you practiced this a hundred times, you easily unlocked the door.

Joe smelled deeply, taking in the scent of baby powder and your aroma. Rafael rested against his neck, his chest breathing gently as he slept. His tiny breaths could be heard as they smacked against his pacifier. Joe scanned your apartment again; it was vastly bigger than Beck’s and his. His eyes fell on an opening; it wasn’t too big but just big enough to have a window, an oak-colored crib decorated with white and green. “You can just set him down in there…He won’t last too long in the crib,” He heard your voice as you locked the front door. You were latching on the deadbolts and other self-brought knick-knacks. Joe set Rafi down, brushing his hair out his face; he squirmed slightly in a panic. Joe quickly turned on the mobile, slightly out of reach for Rafi. He pressed a button; the mobile began to hum to live, and soon, water sounds came on. Splashing, sounds of whales and dolphins, and what seems like rain hitting the waters. It was soothing, and Rafi’s face soon mellowed. Joe allowed Rafi to hold unto his finger; his grip was tight as his body sprawled on the crib’s mattress.

“He usually isn’t so peaceful to put down. He must like you.” He heard you whisper; Joe peered over his shoulder, watching your head pressed against the door’s frame. Joe removed his finger, returning his attention to you. You walked out of the room as Joe followed you. The silence washed over you as you paced around the room, trying to find the right words. Joe stood there, waiting, allowing you to take as much time as needed.

“Joe?” You finally whispered, your eyes finally landing on him. In that moment, Joe felt your souls tying together, latching and burning into each other. “Thank you.” you pushed out, tucking your bottom lip into your teeth.

“I noticed him following you after the market…I didn’t know what to do but when I saw him trying to cross the street… Who is he?”

“Dominick, my ex’s brother. Rafi’s father.” Joe nodded; you trusted him, you trusted him. You weren’t a liar like Beck, “Dom and I were close; I even thought we would be together, but then he got a girlfriend. He stopped coming around, that’s when I met Rafael, he was gentle at first…but I guess that was the point. I had a fling with him and then with his brother, shit just got messy fast, and I got pregnant. That’s when he got abusive… I tried pressing charges, but his dad always dropped the cases, saying that I was a daughter of a junky prostitute and a “john.” I asked for a different judge and each time I was denied. I was finally….finally allowed to get a restraining against him, but it expired, and I wasn’t allowed to renew due to no current impending dangers.” Joe watched you; he stepped close to you, grabbing your arms. You sighed, looking up at him.

“If you need anything, anything… I am here for you.” Joe whispers; you nod, folding your arms underneath each other.

Please ask me to say; please beg me to stay. Joe thought; he nodded as he moved away from the couch. “Joe, wait!” You stood up, “You don’t mind staying for the night, do you? I would feel comfortable with a man around the house… just for the night.” Your voice is soft, and Joe could tell you needed him. He couldn’t deny you. He peered over his shoulder and smiled.

The night progressed as you lay in the bed, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. Your eyes squeezing shut, trying to feign being asleep in hopes of tricking your mind into slumber.

“Joe, are you sleeping?” You called out into the darkness, “Joe?” You called out once more, panicked; you sat up quickly squinting through the darkness as you watched his chest slowly fall and rise. You sighed for a moment, shifting comfortably in the bed.

“Yes?”

Joe rises from the couch, groaning as he shuffles to you. He crawls into bed, and you open the covers, allowing him to slide in. His eyes were low from being awoken from his sleep, his hands tight as he observed you move closer to him. You craved his warmth; a sense of comfort and protection seeped through to you. Your eyes focused on Joe’s, watching through the stillness of the night and the slight light that the moon gave you. His hand gently reached out, tucking your hair behind your ear, holding onto the strand until he reached the end. He moved closer, pressing a kiss on your forehead. He held it, trying to compose himself. He didn’t want to push himself onto you; he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He wasn’t going to be like your ex or your father. Joe pulled back, your eyes fluttering open hesitantly, and you moved closer to him. Your lips molded together, smacking in the silence as your slight hums vibrated into his mouth. He pulled away; you were vulnerable and seeking out comfort in him. He needed to wait to see if this feeling rang true. He wanted you more than you could know, more than he thought possible. He couldn’t take advantage of you like this, not right now… not ever. He cuffed your cheek, kissing your forehead before you, wishing you a good night.

Burning something evoked a wide range of emotions in Joe, a symbol of something new shifting in the atmosphere. The flicker of a match igniting, the scent of smoke swirling in the air, and the crackle of flames consuming the body— the overwhelming sensory experiences that engage him in the death of Benji. He stood over the growing flames, watching them dance against his body; Joe thought he would feel at ease. He couldn’t–his mind racing back to you and Rafi. Joe grew angry, feeling compelled to kill Benji; he was powerless against the woe of Beck, her smile and innocence being stripped away. It's as if his autonomy is being stripped away, leaving him feeling vulnerable and exposed. The heightened feelings of frustration and resentment began to grow through this loss of control.

He thought of you as he smelled the charred remains of Benji, your face dancing in the flames. He sighed, pushing his forearm against his brow. He quickly dialed you; he needed to hear your voice.

“Joey?” Joe heard you whisper, soothing all anxieties that rushed through him. His hand gripping the steering wheel. “Joey? Everything alright?” He hummed, letting his head rest against the steering wheel. It has been one month since he had forced his way into your apartment, leaving articles of clothing behind and coming up with any excuse to stay the night, not that you minded. He had a key to your apartment now, coming in the mornings and getting Rafi together for daycare as you prep for classes and graded papers. Your glasses hung off the bridge of your nose while you gnawed on the cap of the pen—your eyes shifting from the monitor to the paper as you scribbled some markings on it before moving on to the next. The way his lips danced against yours, his hands gently caressed your skin as your lips tangled.

“Yes, everything is alright.” He heard you shuffling, the covers shifting off your body. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, Joey, no, you didn’t. What’s wrong?” You could always read him; you would always tell. You didn’t even have to look at him to see that something was picking at him. He knew that you were good for him; you were everything that he needed you to be. Joe remained silent; the only that was heard was Rafi’s babbling. “Just come over and well talk, okay.”

“Okay.” Joe hung up and made his way to you, his head spinning from his recent murder. His fingers trembled as he pulled down your street, finding a parking spot adjacent to your apartment building. He moved out of the car. His key jingled in the locks swiftly; you swung open the door, watching in bewilderment. Worry drawn on your eyebrows and lips. “Joey, what is going on? Was it—”

“No…no, just Beck.” You nodded for a moment, allowing him to enter the apartment; slamming the door, you proceeded to deadbolt the locks. You stared at the final lock, trying to compose yourself; he wasn’t yours. You were just friends. Why did it hurt at the mention of her name at the thought of him being at her apartment, embracing her? “She just makes me insane, always having to watch her and look out for her. All the lies and the—” You picked up the clothes that scattered the floor, tossing them in Rafi’s dirty clothes hamper. Mindlessly, you grabbed the toys, tossing them in a bin as they interrupted his sentence.

“I see.” was all you could mumble out, your eyes flickering to him. He continued to ramble about how he didn’t trust her–how she was always so secretive around him. But that was Beck; the doe-like look in her eyes always masked the truth that crawled beneath the surface. She was manipulative; everything she did was calculated and meticulous. Her bold red lip contrasted against her pale skin, and her dress revealed just enough of her thigh to keep her professor yearning for more. The way she teased and poked at man’s most animalistic and primitive yearning, dangling it in front of their face before yanking it. You turned to face him, letting the hamper fall against the floor.

“I frankly don’t want to hear about Beck. I understand she’s your girlfriend or whatever she is but, I can’t take hearing about her. When you’re sitting in my apartment, helping me take care of my son… playing house with me. I don’t want to hear about Beck. I get enough of her when I am with them. Every issue that plagues her, I hear about, all the damn time. Benji, you, the Captian. I can’t–I just can’t do it.” You turn away, heated you move into the bathroom face burning with embarrassment and angry. Angrily you slapped at the knob, turning on the hot water on. It screeched for a moment before the hot water spit out.

As you step into the shower, the hot water cascades over your skin, offering a momentary reprieve from the turmoil. Droplets dance across your body, carrying away the remnants of anger and frustration that cling to you like a heavy cloak. With each passing second, the tension melts away, replaced by a soothing sensation of renewal. You close your eyes, allowing the water to envelop you completely, washing away the Beck and Joe's monologue that echoed in your mind. Steam fills the air, wrapping you in a comforting embrace as you stand beneath the gentle stream, letting it cleanse your body and soul. Slowly, the weight of the conversation begins to lift, replaced by a sense of clarity and calm. In this sanctuary of steam and solitude, you find solace. You sighed as the shower opened; you saw his feet planted in the shower and the sound of a soft sigh resting in the air. You feel his hands gliding against your waist, pulling you closer to him. His lips pecked your shoulder, sucking in the aroma that cascaded around him. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?” His hand gently drummed your abdomen, his cock hardening against you as he pecked at you, his hands moving to your breast, kneading at them slowly, letting his fingers squeeze and tug at your nipples.

“Please, forgive me” he whispered; you couldn’t say no to him. So, you nodded, turning around fully to face him. Pressing a gently kiss against his lip, stepping out of the shower, grabbing the towel as you instantly moved to Rafi’s crib.

As the tears streamed down his Rafi’s flushed cheeks, Joe’s heart ached with empathy. With gentle hands, he lifted the sobbing child into his arms, cradling him against his chest, his hand rubbing circles against his back something that he noticed his mom and he liked. Leaning close, he murmured soothing words in a soft, reassuring tone, his voice a balm to the boy's distressed soul. With each gentle stroke of his hand and whispered promise, Joe felt the tension begin to melt away from his Rafi’s trembling form. He rocked him back and forth, a steady rhythm that mirrored the beating of his own heart, a silent vow to always be there to chase away the shadows and dry the tears. Joe moved back your bed, and you reached out your arms, allowing Rafi to settle into your chest and Joe to cuddle back into your side. Rafi was a crybaby and wanted you to hold him 25/8; you wanted to break him out of that habit. Joe and you had been working on getting him to sleep through the night in his crib, it would only last two nights out of the week before Joe caved and dragged himself to Rafi’s crib, engulfing him in his arms. You didn’t bother to correct him; you could tell that something was off with him. You two didn’t speak much after your moment the shower; you didn’t try to get him to speak either.

A heavy knock on the door had woken Joe; he hissed in frustration, moving the walker out of the way as he stumped his toe against it. He looked back, seeing Rafi whining for him, his arm stretched as he crawled closer to the edge of the bed. Joe scooped him up, snatching your phone and checking the time—7:37 AM. He grunted as he moved to unlock the deadbolts and finally the door. The door swung open, revealing Peach. Her eyes widened as she glanced at Joe; quickly, she shook her head, trying to find the right words to say but couldn’t. Peach observed him, eyes squinted in fury and confusion. “She’s sleeping Peach.”

She called out your name, moving into the living room, her eyes falling on you as you lay in bed. Her head snapped to Joe, realizing that he was in his boxers. “What the fuck! What did you do to her?” Peach asked as she tried to grab Rafi. Joe stiffed her and backed away as she continued to reach for your son.

Joe held Rafi tightly in his arms as Peach had her outstretched arms and a determined frown on her face. Ignoring Joe’s protective grip, Peach reached for the child, her fingers brushing against Joe’s before clasping around the little one's hand. Joe’s heart skipped a beat, a surge of protectiveness welling up within him. He pulled back, his hand resting against Rafi’s back as he watched Peach’s face morph, her eyes narrowing before he turned her attention to you.

“Peach? What–What are you doing?” You shifted from the covers, you were in a grey crewneck, a B printed in brown and outlined in red. Your hair messing tied away from your face as you squinted to fully focus on her.

“No! No—what are you doing?” She hisses, stomping towards you, your finger jabbing into the air as she throws her hands dramatically.

“Peach, he was just—I saw Dominick. Since then, he has been here for me. Nothing… Nothing else has been going on.” You shouted over her rambles. Something in her face changed; she slammed her mouth shut, looking at you, taking in your words. She grabbed the back of her arm, holding it tighter to her person. Joe noticed the slight change in her demeanor at the mention of Dominick; he scared her.

“Did you–” You quickly shook her hand, stretching out your hands for Rafi; Joe quickly moved to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as Rafi crawled into your lap. Joe’s hands rested on top of yours; he pressed his lips against Rafi’s head before cuffing your chin. He rose to his feet. He grabbed his things, placing them on his clothes. He jiggled his phone before leaving out of your apartment, a silent single for you to call him when she leaves. “When did that happen?”

“Nothing happened. He just was here for me at the time and… I trust him.” Peach laughs, sitting on the bed.

“Trust him, absolutely not. You know he’s playing you just like he’s playing Beck!” You rolled your eyes, unsure of what to make of her accusations. I mean, they weren’t incorrect in their entirety. Joe had a fleeting romance with Beck and probably still does. “He’s using you. I lost Beck to him, and I am not going to lose you. In this stupid ideology where you think you need him! You don’t need him! I am here for you; call me if you are feeling scared; call me if you are feeling down!”

“I know” you mumbled, caressing Rafi. “I shouldn’t trust him” you confessed. “I really shouldn’t” a bitter laugh left your throat as you chocked on a sob that rose in your throat.

“He could be like Rafael! You are so blinded by love that you didn’t see it then, but I did, and now, I do.” Peach whispered, as she inched in Joe’s spot. Resting her head against your chest, her hands wrapping against your torso.

Joe stood outside the closed door, his fists clenched at his sides, he strained to hear the muffled voices from within. Anger simmered beneath his skin, fueled by the snippets of conversation that reached his ears. Each word felt like a dagger, piercing through the thin veneer of his composure. He could hear her strained voice, a mixture with a Peach’s voice—a voice that grated on his nerves like sandpaper. His jaw tightened, muscles coiling with tension as he fought the urge to burst through the door and confront the source of his jealousy head-on. The temptation to intervene, to demand answers, pulsed through him like a steady drumbeat, drowning out reason and restraint. With every passing moment, his anger mounted, a raging inferno threatening to consume him whole. Yet, for now, he remained on the other side of the door, a silent witness to his own unraveling emotions. Something needed to happen, Peach was always in the way, the intricate dance of relationships that she always blocked. Stepping on his toes and stealing you away from him. Tangling you in her grasp, the same spell that Beck was under. She was a figure looming in the background, casting a shadow over any potential romance that Joe worked so hard to grow and nourish. Her presence was like a shield, deflecting any attempts at romantic advancement with a casual remark or a well-timed interruption.

He needed to kill her; her undoing was all the fault of her own.

Goodbye Peach Sallinger.

#imagines #imagine #request #requested #joe goldberg x you #joe goldberg imagines #joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg #peach salinger #you imagine

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thinkingaboutjaedyn · 2 months

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i'm your biggest fan [j.shaw x morgan!child!reader]

prompt: after jaedyn's great performance at the game against argentina, you become her biggest fan.

author notes: been trying to get back to writing more and finally got some inspiration. i have been wanting to write a child!reader fic forever, blame @/woso-dreamzzz because im in love with her child!reader fics so bad. this is me trying to make myself feel better after that shit ass usa vs mexico game 🤗 so enjoy! P.S. the reader is like around five in this.

you're standing on the pitch after the usa vs argentina, happily following around your soccer aunts. this game was one of the best lately. your throat was dry from all the shouting and cheering you have been doing. especially when your mother scored a banger in the nineteenth minute. of course you weren't only cheering only for your mommy, getting loud for all your soccer aunts too. like blondie lindsey and tiny rose. that doesn't mean you haven't been focusing your attention on the new girls though; they are officially your soccer cousins now since they are all too young to be aunties in your opinion.

one new girl in particular has caught your attention. the way she has been performing so strongly throughout the whole match has you obsessed with her. not that you understand soccer tactics or anything, but even a five year old knows good play when they see it. you screamed her name the loudest (right after your mommy's of course); jaedyn. not only was jaedyn the cool new girl who your mommy says is going to the next big thing for the team, but she also wears the number above your mommy's new one. you honestly hated the new number because your mommy is number thirteen, not seven but you can't seem to understand whatever rule your mom told you about because it's too much for your brain so you don't think about it. the only good thing that came out of the change is the fact your mommy's cubby is next to jaedyn's.

the moment you spot the girl in the question as you follow around lynn, who just stopped to talk to crystal about the game, you slip off to where jaedyn is which wasn't a hard task. just having to go through a few legs with some quick "hi!"s in-between.

finally you make it to where jaedyn is sipping on her water bottle. she looks so cool even when just standing around. it seems jaedyn doesn't spot you, so you just do the ol' tug them by the shorts trick and her eyes look down at you.

"oh? hey mini morgan," her smile is like the sun to you. her tone sounds so chill and cool that you try to copy her. "hi big shaw!" you say. your words coming out way less cool than hers but it was worth the effort. the american player lets out a short laugh, ruffling your hair that's in pigtails. making it a bit messy, but you don't really mind. it's jaedyn doing it so why would you?

"big shaw? i'm the only shaw around here, so shouldn't it be shaw the first?" you nod at her words already. "okay, shaw the first, can you teach me how to shoot a banger?" you ask. looking up at her with high exceptions already. the way you say your words make her laugh loudly which confuses you. why is cool girl jaedyn laughing? is it because she thinks you can't score a banger too? or maybe she's like a magician and can't reveal her secrets.

you lean more towards the magician theory, saying, "i promise i won't tell anyone about it! so you can keep your shooting superpower hidden." jaedyn just shakes her head before crouching down to your height. "you don't have to keep it a secret. i think everyone already knows," she whispers, "but yeah i'll teach you. just make sure to ask your mommy." you let a excited gasp as you whip your head around. looking for your mom across the pitch. your expert alex morgan finding eyes locate her easily. turning your head back to look at jaedyn with a smile. you hold out your pinky finger, "pinky promise?"

"pinky promise," jaedyn accepts your declaration of confirmation as she locks her pinky finger with yours. "thanks shaw the first!" you shout at her after pulling away. already running quickly to go ask your mommy to let jaedyn to teach you how to score bangers. hopefully she doesn't question why didn't you just ask her since you wouldn't want to break it your mommy that jaedyn is just cooler. your mommy is still one of the coolest though.

you almost bump into the legs of naomi on your way to your mommy, but dodge quickly with your great dodging skills. naomi even said you might be a defender in the making once. the loud voice of yours can be heard to everyone around you as you finally reach your mommy.

"can big shaw teach me how to score bangers, please!" you shout out happily. your mommy just chuckles before patting the top of your head, "of course, baby."

and that was possibly the path to you being a future forward. all thanks to big shaw.

#uswnt x reader #alex morgan x reader #jaedyn shaw x reader #jaedyn shaw #alex morgan #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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forlovvers · 10 months

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( under my umbrella )

pair: soobin x gn!reader | genre: fluff, meet-cute (kinda) ! | warning(s): heavy rain? | synopsis: in which a kind stranger shares his umbrella with you.

lynne’s note🗒️: this was way longer than intended

your class had just gotten out. your acquaintances rushing out of the lecture room to make haste to their part-time jobs, or blind dates, or just to plainly fall asleep in their uncomfortable dorm bed.

stuffing your notes into your bag, you stumble outside with the crowd, but are instantly stopped behind someone else and you mutter a small “sorry,” to which you think they probably don’t hear it. you’re pushed against somebody’s back and somebody’s pushed against your back, it feels like being stuffed on the early morning train all over again.

you raise your head to see what’s all the fuss about and just outside the awning of the building, there’s pounds and pounds of rain. it’s coming down heavy and students are opening umbrellas, using their backpacks as shields or simply running at the speed of light to the next nearby shelter.

a sigh escapes your lips as you open your bag again, rummaging for an umbrella that you hopefully stuck in there just in case. you’re there searching through your bag for long enough because when you look back up there’s only a couple students lingering around.

another sigh, along with a frown that paints your face. you really wish it didn’t have to come down to this. you situate your bag onto your back and zip your hoodie up all the way, tugging the hood over head. and then, like a soldier bracing for battle, you ran out into the rain.

immediately the rain poured through your hoodie and soaked into your socks. you were more than displeased and you could feel more small puddles form in the bottom of your shoes.

it isn’t until you look up and see the thundering grey sky had been replaced with the innings of a white, cartoon bunny umbrella. the rain was loud, but it seems to have a contender because your heart pounds louder with every passing second.

you look up to see who was your savior from the treacherous downpour and the most beautiful man you could imagine, was standing right in front of you, holding his comically small umbrella just over your head. his hair is blonde and drenched by the rain, along with his uni hoodie and black-framed glasses. he seemed familiar in a way you couldn’t remember.

and without thinking you grab his arm and pull him under the umbrella with you. i mean, you couldn’t just let your savior get drenched. your body is flushed against his and you can feel your cheeks get hot. you can tell he’s surprised by the sudden proximity because he stumbles a bit before stepping back and giving you space. you notice his cheeks are pink too.

the tall stranger’s brows are drawn together with worry and his free hand raises up to scratch the nape of his neck. “y/n, are you okay?” his voice is gentle, and yet loud enough to reach to you over the rain. wait a second, how does he know your name?

he reads the confusion across your face and immediately explains himself, pointing at his chest in hopes you’d remember him. “i’m soobin— choi soobin? beomgyu’s roomate,” he says, in a defeated tone.

you squint your eyes and scrutinize his face, running through your mind palace to look for him. and then you remember. you saw just a silver of him that time you were at beomgyu’s place, and realize during that time his hair was jet-black. you had to say, the blonde did him wonders.

“right. sorry i didn’t recognize you— your hair, it’s different.” you apologize, even though there’s really nothing to apologize for. he waves you off, and you get a glimpse of the deep dimples in his cheeks.

“erm, could you hold this?” soobin lets you take the umbrella from him and you make sure to hold it high enough for it to cover his head to. you aren’t sure why he asks you to hold it, but you get your answer when he reaches his hands out and smooths out your hair, brushing your wet bangs out of your face.

he takes the umbrella back and you aren’t sure if it’s the rain or just him, because being next to soobin makes you feel lightheaded. just looking at him makes your heart hurt.

“do you need me to walk you back to your dorm?” soobin looks like he wants you to say yes, so you do. you weren’t going to pass up the man of your dreams walking you back to your dorms.

the walk back is comforting. you can smell his shampoo, a scent that is almost like marshmallows and your shoulders brush by each other too often for him to not notice but he doesn’t seem to mind. and neither do you.

“i like your umbrella.” you say to break the silence. the rain had quieted down and it was just a soft pitter-patter to accompany your words. it’s almost like the rain knew.

he looks up at his umbrella and smiles sheepishly, “yeah, kai got it for me as a gift.” his fingers drum against the umbrella handle rhythmically to the rain and you can’t help but admire at him. his hair is still wet from the rain and his cheeks are dusted a baby pink. he must feel you staring because he clears his throat and asks, “which is your dorm?”

you’re caught off guard when soobin turns to fully look at you and his eyes are filled with a certain glint you just can’t place. your cheeks are on fire at this point. “it’s this one,” you point at a door near to where your standing. “thank you for walking me.”

soobin smiles again, showcasing his dimples, “of course, i would do it again. just let me know when.” he watches to make sure you get in safely and when he finally walks away, you lock your door and slide down it like it’s straight out of a rom-com.

you’re a giggling mess when you send a text to beomgyu letting him know you’re coming over tomorrow, definitely not to get choi soobin’s number.

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2737377474883 · 11 months

Note

Hi, can u do one about Jill Roord x reader, pls?

Where Jill and the reader are married for years, only Vivianne Miedema and Lynn Wilms know it.

While they're playing against each other w their respective countries in the world cup. The day before the game the lionesses were having a bonding time at the beach, while the reader was quietly listening to her teammates talking. Jackie Groenen and Lynn Wilms went over and started talking w the reader in Dutch, they decided to go and prank Jill. The lionesses are shocked by:

1-how quickly the reader's mood/character changed from shy and introverted w the lionesses to fully extrovert w the oranje girls

2-the fact that the reader can speak fluently Dutch and how she learned it

During the game Netherlands vs England, the reader got tackled badly by Danielle Van De Donk. Jill got worried because the reader wasn't getting up and then she got so angry at Daan. Then Jill tried to convince the Netherlands coach to sub her off so she could go to check on her wife.

So she decided to go for a yellow card because she knew that it was the only chance to get sub off by her coach.

Idk how both of the teams find out that they're married.

Can you do something fluff and cute pls?

Can you maybe change p.o.v. from the reader to Jill and the others and vice versa

The Lioness and the Leeuwin

Jill Roord x reader

First of all I would like to apologize for taking so long. I hope you like it and it meets your expectations.

English is not my native language. Sorry for incorrect grammar and spelling.

I can't speak or write Dutch, so these sentences are in italics.

POV Y/n:

It´s matchday minus one. Tomorrow the lionesses are going to play against the oranje leeuwinnen. Its still feels unreal that we are going to play against the Netherlands in the semi-final of the world cup in Australia in front of around 83,500 people. What makes me feel even more nervous is the fact that I´m going to play against my wife. I know that it might be a bit unusual for a lioness to marry a leeuwin but when I first met Jill it felt like I didn´t had much of a choice. I fell in love with her and nothing else mattered. You might think that a married couple playing against each other in a world cup semi-final would cause a lot of media interest, but it doesn´t, well only when the marriage is public. And that’s why there wasn´t much focus on Jill and me, we never made or marriage or even our relationship public. Jill and I are very fond of our privacy and as such have not even told our teammates about our relationship as we know how quickly they are to say more than they are allowed to. We haven´t told anyone except our closest family and Lynn Wilms and Vivianne Miedema as they were our maids of honour.

Currently the lionesses are having bonding time at the beach. We enjoy the sand under our feet and the sun shining on our faces. I´m juggling a ball and listening to the waves and the conversations of my teammates until I´m torn out of my thoughts by loud screams.

“Y/n get ready to lose tomorrow!” my maid of honour screams.

“Only in your dreams Lynn you might want to start packing your bags!” I counter.

“You should rather enjoy the sun a little longer, since it’s known to rain in the England all the time!” Jackie replies.

I don´t really know how to reply and just shake my head laughing. I look over at Sarina, who of course understood every word and couldn´t help but smile. She already knows what I want to ask and nods in agreement.

I start walking towards the two when I hear Georgia complaining: “What´s that supposed to mean, now she is going to form an alliance with our enemy.”

I just roll my eyes and shoot her with the ball I juggled with. I take the last few steps towards them and am pulled into a bone-crushing hug by both.

“Have you heard about our prank on Jill? Without exaggerating, this was one of our best pranks.” Jackie asks me excitedly.

“Yes, Jill called me right after and told me about it.” I answer.

“Yeah, but I think there is still room for improvement.” says Jackie self-critically.

“We just have to think about something bigger.” fantasizes Lynn.

“Yes, something to make previous generations of pranksters proud of you. But don´t overdo it, don´t try to hurt anyone else you´ll make my victory too easy for me tomorrow.” I warn them.

“Yeah, keep dreaming.” Lynn says.

“It was nice to meet you here, but I have to get back to the others now.” I say goodbye to them and hug them one last time before walking back to my teammates.

POV lionesses:

“Am I hallucinating or are you seeing that too?” Georgia asks the others while continuing to watch Y/n closely.

The others look at Georgia confused and try to understand what she means, but they don´t succeed.

“Come on guys, did you know that Y/n can speak Dutch?” asks Georgia who is a little pissed that she didn´t know before.

“I`ve never heard her speak Dutch before but it sounds like she knows what she´s saying.” says Lucy who is a little impressed by Y/N.

“Is her Dutch good?” Alessia would like to know from Sarina.

“Yes, her Dutch is very good if not fluent and she doesn´t even has an accent.” replies Sarina.

“Maybe she´s just been bored too much during lockdown” suspects Kira.

“Now for another thing, Y/n seems a lot more outgoing with the two dutchies.” remarks Beth, who is allowed to accompany the team despite her injury.

“Yes, you´re right, I have never seen Y/n so extroverted.” says Leah, who is with the team as well.

“Maybe it´s like with Viv, she´s also more confident when she speaks Dutch.” Says Beth comparing her girlfriend to Y/n.

POV Y/n:

When I return to the team, I am immediately looked at with prompting looks and asked for an explanation.

“I was bored during my injury and quarantine and had nothing better to do. Besides that, Dutch is an easy language to learn, and I did it so I can converse better with Viv or Sarina, for example.” I explain.

“It´s nice to hear that you like my native language.” Sarina says to me.

“Well, it always helped me to talk to someone in my mother tongue when I was playing in other countries, it often helped me with homesickness. And you once said that you sometimes miss the Netherlands a lot.” I reply.

POV Jill:

I`m in the dressing room changing into our match kit for the game. I`m afraid. I´m afraid to play against my wife. One of us will win, the ither one will lose. One will continue to fight for the world championship title, the others dream will be over. I want to make her proud and win but I don´t want her to lose, I want her to win and celebrate but I don´t want my team to lose. Just before I can get into my thoughts any further, I am pulled out of my them by the buzzing of my phone.

Wifey❤️: Hey my love, I can hear your thoughts from here even though Leah is playing music very loudly. Please don´t worry to much about me or us. No matter what happens I will be proud of you, and nothing will change between us. I´m always there for you, my darling. I love you x.

I must smile. I find It amazing how in love I still am with her after all these years together. Also, it´s unbelievable how well Y/n knows me. What would I do without her. Well probably not playing in a world cup semi-final against my wife.

I make my way through the tunnel to line up with the others. I look to the side only to find my wife coming out the lioness’s locker room. She gives me a smile and winks at me. She then quickly looks around and kisses my forehead while pulling me into a hug. We pull away from each other when we hear a soft cough from Lynn. Lynn gives Y/N a mock scowl and tells me to focus on the match.

POV Y/n:

In the tunnel I have the feeling that I´m going to throw up in the nearest corner. But as I hold my escort child’s hand, step onto the pitch, sing the national anthem an hear the kick-off whistle, all the nervousness is gone.

The first half is going well, we get into the game well and create several chances which we unfortunately haven´t managed to take advantage of yet. In the second half we can make good use of Sarina´s advice and see our fist success in the 62nd minute when Lessi manages to score. The pressure we put on the Dutch players is reflected in their attacks on us the tackles become more frequent and violent. Jill and I clash a lot too, but I have the most work with Danielle van de Donk. Off the pitch she´s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met but we don´t give in on the pitch.

Another tackle from Daan, but this one was more painful than all the others combined. Even as I fall, I have a bad feeling that it will be very painful. And my feeling is not wrong. I hit the ground wrong. I hear a cracking sound in my neck and a creaking sound from my shoulder.

POV Jill:

Y/n is lying on the ground, she is curled up and holding her shoulder. Lucy Bronze is right by her side, rubbing her back while my wife buries her pained face in the grass to hide her tears. I knew it had to be something serious. I knew before Lucy called for the medics to come on the pitch. Y/n always got right up after a tackle, she didn´t like to look hurt in front of the opponent. She never cried and just kept going like nothing has happened. But this time it was different. This time it was more serious and more painful to say the least. All I want is to be with my wife like we promised each other back then. In health and in sickness. Seeing her in pain almost pains myself.

Out of the blue I feel the urge to punch Daan right in the face. But I can not. I can´t do it, I´ve promised Y/n so many times before not to let me be provoked and not to get physical, because violence is not the answer, but in this moment if somehow feels like the right answer. I can barely resist hurting Daan, but I´ll make her very aware that the tackle was a mistake.

POV Daan:

I´ve never seen Jill so upset. I understood that it was a mistake and that I shouldn´t have overdone it, but now it´s too late and I can´t do anything but apologize. Even after getting a yellow card, Jill is still upset. She discusses with Andries. I can´t hear what they´re talking about, but Jonker just shakes his head and sends Jill away. I´m being substituted to avoid getting a red card.

POV Jill:

I watch my wife being carried off the field by paramedics while I must stay here. Lucy holds her hand until Leah takes over. Y/n covered her face with her Jersey but before that I could see her wearing a brace around her neck. I can´t concentrate on the game anymore. How, when I don´t know how my wife if doing. My passes are less accurate and my tackles more uncontrolled. But it wasn´t until the 73rd minute that I got my long-awaited and well-deserved yellow card and finally got subbed of.

POV Leah:

I´m sitting in front of the door to the treatment room, which I´m not allowed to enter. With me are Viv and Beth. Y/n is in the treatment room, her sister is with her, but no one else who is not a family member is allowed to enter the room because according to a medic, Y/n needs to rest, and the doctor does not have enough space to take care of her with more people in the room. Beth and I try again to get the medic to understand that we are family to Y/n. She once said that we are her family and that she will fight for us to the bitter end. Just as I was about to start arguing again, Jill ran into the corridor.

“What are you doing here? You must play!” I ask her, but she just ignores me.

“Where is she?” Jill asks worriedly.

Viv points to the door and Jill is about to open it when the medic gently pushes her back.

“You can only enter if you are a family member, so please sit down and wait until I can let you in.” he says with a stern voice.

Beth wraps her arms around Jill´s shoulders to pull her back a little. Jill´s beathing quickens, she clenches her fists and tears start to form in her eyes.

“I know it´s hard but we´ll have to wait.” Beth whispers to calm her down a bit.

Jill just shakes her head, takes a deep breath, and takes a few steps towards the medic.

“I advise you to let me be with my wife or you will get to know me from another side.” she threatens him with a frighteningly calm voice.

Wait what did she just say, “my wife”? Y/n doesn´t talk much but she would have told to us.

“Are you kidding? Do you really think you´re the first to try to get past me like that?” he asks her and shakes his head with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

Jill is getting more and more angry and tries to rip off the tape she has on her wrist but due to her anger it doesn´t work. She looks beggingly at Viv and a tear runs down her cheek. The way she is behaving she really could be married to Y/n, I must give her that, her acting skills are really good.

“Jill is telling the truth. She has been married to Y/n for several years now. If you go in there and look for Y/n´s insurance card you will find the name Y/n Roord on it. I was Jill´s maid of honour and Lynn Wilms was Y/n´s maid of honour” says Viv, pointing to the door.

Wow that was unexpected.

Jill finally manages to get the tape off with a lot of effort and reveals a ring, a brief overjoyed smile spreads across her face and she holds it up proudly. She shows it to the medic, and he finally agrees to letting her in.

POV Y/n:

I´m lying on a treatment lounger and my sister, who came to Australia just to watch my games, is holding my hand. I got a new neck brace which protects my neck better, an arms sling because I most likely sprained my collarbone and painkillers which are slowly starting to help.

The door opens and finally Jill comes in, I´ve been watching the game over the TV in the room and I´ve seen her substitution and only have been waiting for her to appear in the doorway. She approached me and the closer she got the better I could see that she had been crying. My sister let go of my hand and I lift my arm. Jill stopped in front of me, and I wipe a tear away from her cheek, which I then lay my hand on. She puts a hand on mine and holds it tight. She leans down and kisses me first on the forehead and then on my lips very carefully, afraid that she will hurt me.

The final whistle sounds on the TV and we both turn to the it to find out the result. England 2 goals. Netherlands 1 goal. England is in the final. The Netherlands is not. I won. My wife did not. We both take a deep breath and look at each other.

“I´m really sorry darling, you really deserve the win. I`m proud of you and I love you”. I tell her and look deep into her eyes to reinforce my statement.

“Thank you, my love, congratulations, you made it, I love you.” she says with a sad smile.

With the help of my sister and Jill, I am placed in a wheelchair. I am being pushed through the tunnel towards the pitch. We´re coming to a stop. Jill stands next to me and leans down towards me. I put my hand on her neck and pull her a little closer. We kiss and hear the fans cheering. We look around confused until my sister points to one of the screens and we see my wedding ring sparkling on the screen.

I hope you liked it. If you have any improvements, suggestions or requests, please feel free to contact me.

#woso x reader #engwnt x reader #nedwnt x reader #jill roord x reader

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doudouneverte · 10 months

Text

Big Sister

a/n: okay I know I saud the last fic should be the last fic about football until the world cup but I couldn't erase this thought (Dominique Janssen is really underrated)

*not my GIF*

Pairing: platonic!Dominique Janssen x younger!Reader; VfL Wolfsburg (frauen) x NEDWNT!Reader

Summary: You just love to mess up with Dom and she decide to take her revenge.

Type: Fluff

Warning: me who don't take my promise, and use of google traduction for Dutch

wprd count: 1473

---------

Water balloon incident

You knew you shouldn't do that, but you were bored, and it could be fun.

Wolfsburg's training facility was quiet—too quiet for a lot of people. Some girls were working out when a pair of footsteps were heard running to the gym. Lena and Jule entered the room but were visibly disappointed.

"Lynn, where is Dom?" Lena asked.

"She left with Poppi and Sophie a few minutes earlier; I think they are in the locker room." The Dutch replied, and the girls nodded before leaving for the said place. Once there, they quickly entered and almost scared the older women.

"Dom, we finally found you," the blonde German said, and the concerned woman furrowed her eyebrows. "Y/n fainted on the pitch while we trained," she explained, and the three women quickly became worried. The five girls quickly ran to where you were supposed to be but found nothing.

"Girls, where is--" Dom didn't finish her sentence before she was hit by water balloons. The young girls laughed, and Svendis came to them with her phone, recording the Dutch's expression.

"Got you!" You laughed. The defender looked at you; she was angry; she saw red despite your green training kit. She chased you on the pitch; you found a way to run on the building, and the older Dutch was about to follow you before she was stopped by Jule, who gave her two water balloons. She took them and followed you.

You were running for your life—well, not literally, because you knew Dom would never hurt you, but she was still scary. You saw Jill, and you started to slow down before you heard the older Dutch yell, "Jill, laat haar niet gaan (Jill, don't let her go)." You tried to escape, but you slipped and fell to the ground. "Y/n!" Dom ran to you, very concerned.

She kneeled beside you and helped you sit. "I'm fine," you said, but the older woman didn't stop to examine you to be sure you didn't lie. "I'm okay, Dom, I promise," you repeated, and she seemed satisfied after she finished.

"Okay, get up. I need to change my clothes, and after that, we will go out with the girls." She stood up and started to leave, but she made a mistake. She let the water balloons land on the floor next to you. You're still coming with—" She didn't finish before she got soaked again. "Y/n!" she yelled, but you had already run away.

In the room next to where you were, the rest of the team was chilling until they heard a loud noise when you fell, and a few seconds later, they heard Dom yell your name. "How do you handle her during national camp?" Merle asked Lynn.

Honestly, I don't know, but I think it's better to let her run out; otherwise, she doesn't sleep properly the night, and she can't play for the match." she replied.

"Do you talk about Y/n?" Jill asked when she entered the room, and the goalkeeper nodded. "I think we should be thankful that Dann isn't here too. When they're together, it's almost impossible to chill." The midfielder explained, and the defender chuckled.

"It would be chaos," she said.

-----------

Hide and seek in the city

It was a bad idea, but you couldn't help yourself, and Lena and Jule said it could be fun. You were with some teammates in the streets of Wolfsburg; you were watching around to see if there was somewhere to hide. When the girls decided to visit a new shop not so far from where you were, it was the right moment. Once inside, you faked your interest until the older women were too distracted. You grabbed Lena, Jule, and Sveindis outside, and the four of you started to walk fast without making too much noise.

Hey, look Y/n, they have what you were talking about." Jill said, but when you didn't reply, Dominique started to worry. They all looked behind them, but they didn't see you.

"Where are they?" Alexandra asked.

"I swear if it's another prank by Y/n I'll kill her." The Dutch defender said, and when Svenja was about to say something, she cut her off. "I know we need her for the final against Freiburg, but that doesn't change anything," she said before leaving the shop, determined to find you. She didn't have to walk too much before her phone buzzed. She looked at it and saw a message from you in the club group chat.

Dom sighed, and with the girls, they agreed to find you. After a few minutes, they found the three other girls, but now the defender started to worry more; you were not with them, and they didn't know where you could have been. They tried to call you, but you didn't pick up. They were about to go crazy until they found you with a little boy and his mother. You waved goodbye to them before you remarked on your teammates.

You: Let's play hide and seek

Dom: Y/n I swear, if you do anything stupid, I'll be sure you'll be benched for the rest of the season

You: Oh come on, Domi, you're not fun

Poppi: Okay, girls, it's not funny. Where are you?

Lena: It's not really a game of hide and seek if we tell you where we are hiding

Sveindis: She's right

Jule: Yeah

"Where were you?" Domi asked.

"I found this little boy; he seemed lost. He explained to me that he moved in recently with his parents and lost his mom, so I helped him." you replied. The defender pulled you into a hug, clearly reassured to know you were alright.

"Don't ever do that again." She said it sternly, and you nodded. "Okay, now let's go back home."

You were walking behind the group with the defender next to you when you started to say, "You know, this boy reminded me of when I came here for the first time. I remember I lost myself, and you were worried to death, but you found me."

"Yeah, and I'll never stop worrying," she said.

"Even when I'll be 30?" You asked.

"If you still like Dann, absolutely." she joked. When you were walking, you started to talk with the girl in front of you, and Dom was remembering this day.

You just signed to Wolfsburg after a good season at Twente; you were young but a promising striker, which is why you finished there. When you made your first step in the training area, the defender took you under her wing, and she quickly became your big sister in the team. Things didn't change when you were called for your first senior national camp.

-----------

Water bottles

It was the Dfb-Pokal final against Wolfsburg. You quickly took the advantage in the game, and twenty minutes before the end, the coach subbed you on. Only seven minutes after you gave an assist, and only three minutes later, you scored. Like almost everyone except you, you won this final. It was the third time in a row you won this title, but the feeling is still like the first time.

You celebrate with the girls before being required to do a little post-match interview. While you were talking, your 'big sister' watched you from afar until she spotted some water bottles on the bench. She smirked to herself before she grabbed them and came to you.

"–and I thought I could add something so I–" you cut yourself when you felt two water bottles emptied on your head. You were expecting to face Obi or Jule when you turned around, so you were shocked to find the Dutch laughing, visibly proud of her work. You couldn't really be mad at her, but you were still soaked. You excused yourself with the interviewer and playfully chased the defender.

You quickly gave up when Sveindis stopped you to take a photo with you. You accepted and found yourself taking pictures for a few minutes with almost all your teammates, but not with the most important one yet. So you took the trophy to find her; she was thrilled to see you appear next to her while she was talking with Ewa.

She didn't have time to say anything before you dragged her along. "Let's take a picture together," you said. You took at least five pitcures with her and more with the two of you and some teammates who invited themselves in.

Later that day you posted the photos from the match: one post for the match; one post with a lot of pictures of celebration with all your teammates; and a last post with only a photo with you and Dominique with a unique legend: "Mijn grote zus👯🇳🇱 (My big sister).

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #dominique janssen #dominique janssen x reader #vfl wolfsburg women #vfl wolfsburg women x reader #vfl wolfsburg frauen #lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader

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moonlight-prose · 4 months

Note

Hello!! Could I request Tommy Miller with the prompt "my god, you're fun to kiss." from the f. scott fitzgerald sentence starters for the dream within a dream activity? I love you're writing!! No rush friend, have fun with it!! :D

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒

a/n: i am not responsible for how heartbreaking this came out. i aimed for fluffy tommy and i think i managed some of that, but the angst kinda got away from me. tommy is one of those characters that just fit angst so well, so i had to.

summary: you could remember his smile most of all. how it shone brighter than the sun on most days. how his curls nearly always fell into his eyes. but most of all...you remembered how he loved you.

word count: 0.8k+

pairing: tommy miller x reader

warnings: not explicit, angst, grief, fluff and romance, tommy being happy for a time, is reader dead? is tommy dead? who knows, heartbreak, the pain of living through the apocalypse, angst provided by listening to vera lynn's we'll meet again.

The woods were silent. No crickets, no echoes of animals in the distance, not even the fire you two built made noise. As if the world ceased to spin for a few hours, time stopping to give you the haven you’d been searching for. His jacket was draped over your shoulders, hands clasped together to seal in some warmth, as he threw another log on the pit. Nothing too big, but certainly not small enough to keep it going all night.

Eventually morning would come and the two of you would be forced to keep moving. Keep searching for that undeniable peace you ached for.

But until then…this was perfect enough.

“Tell me about your favorite movies,” you said softly, breaking through the wall of silence that fell over both of you.

He smiled. “Alright.” He shuffled closer, hands clasping over yours. “Tell me about yours too.”

“Okay…” You pursed your lips, eyes focusing on the way his hands were so much larger than yours. “Meet Joe Black.”

A soft chuckle left his lips. “The movie about death?”

You nodded. “It’s really sweet.”

“Oh I bet.”

“Okay fine then what’s yours?” you asked, nudging him as he broke out into laughter, the slight crinkles around his eyes growing deeper by the day. You noticed a slight hint of gray at his temple, his curls longer than when you first saw him. They were down to his ears, a constant irritation as they fell into his face.

You couldn’t remember the last time you helped him cut them.

“Star Wars.”

You snorted. “Of course.”

“Don’t make fun!”

“I wasn’t.”

His eyes narrowed, moving to cup your chin. “Yeah uh huh. Sure.”

The loud echo of the wood snapping in half filled the air, sparking flying up and turning to ash. And while you would have turned to look, fascinated by the orange glow of the flames, Tommy held your attention entirely. He inched closer, his eyes falling to your parted lips now chapped by the cold. Neither of you cared though. Not with what was going on all around you.

“You forgot to ask me my favorite thing,” he breathed, nose dragging along your cheek.

You let out a stuttered breath. “W-What’s your favorite thing?”

He smiled, eyes meeting yours—his breath creating a cloud in the air. “You.”

A gasp tore from your throat when his lips found yours, his tongue delving into your mouth with a soft breathy moan. And the sound obliterated you. It clawed at your insides, dragged into your throat, and made a home right in your body. A searing reminder that Tommy Miller was the love of your fucking life. The man you’d die for. He was your sun, your moon, and everything in between.

“Tommy,” you panted, eyes falling shut when his mouth dragged along yours, tongue licking at your bottom lip, dragging you into another fervent kiss you felt down your spine.

“Fuck.” He bit at your jaw, hands grasping to tug you closer and feel the way his body burned for you. “You’re fun to kiss.”

You smiled as your hands delved into his curls, pushing them away from his face. “You’re not so bad either.”

“Better not be,” he muttered, biting down on your lip and sucking it into his mouth. He released it with a soft pop. “I plan to kiss you for a long time honey.”

Tugging on his hair, you felt his groan vibrate through his chest and into yours. “What are you waiting for then?”

A screech echoed in the distance, ugly and distorted, and shattering the memory in your mind like glass, and you ignored it. Even as another crackle went through the fire, even as sparks continued to fill the night sky. You simply sat there, hands clasped together, his jacket over your shoulders, and eyes trained on the flames. How they licked at the wood dangerously, breaking it a part with each shift and sway.

Your breath formed in the night air, a cloud of grief that followed you wherever you went. Yet even that remained a comfort on nights like this. When you placed your life in the hands of the universe, or maybe even him. If you concentrated hard enough you could still hear his laugh. See his smile and feel the softness of his curls between your fingers. If you focused…you might even get to pretend that he still sat beside you, asking you nonsensical questions that held no real meaning.

If only to pass the time.

“I ain’t waitin’,” he had whispered against your lips, fingers already delving beneath your shirt. “Not anymore.”

You grinned, another screech echoing in the night air, even closer than the last, and felt a tear slip down your cheek. “No waiting,” you whispered, eyes dragging up to the treeline of the clearing—catching sight of something in the distance.

“Not anymore.”

#tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x y/n #tommy miller #tommy miller angst #tommy miller fic #the last of us fic #my writing #a dream within a dream week🍷

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fbfh · 1 year

Text

rocks at your window pt. 10 - ricky bowen x reader

disclaimer: this series contains smut and chapter by chapter warnings, so as with all nsfw works, ricky is aged up to 18+!! ricky and reader are 18 and in their senior year

additionally, we're working towards a ricky x therapy plot so he's going to start expressing some symptoms of mental illness and bpd but he does get therapy eventually and has a good support system but he gets worse before he gets better yk. Obviously I'm not a professional and this is for entertainment so while I have done my research pls take this with a grain of salt!! or several!! /lh

!! contains some spoilers for season 1 of hsmtmts, and previous chapters of this fic !!

wc: 10.1k

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, more high highs and a lot of low lows, tooth rotting fluff

pairing: ricky bowen x (afab she/her) reader

warnings: saucy flashbacks, nini and ej are very unprofessional, more fake texts, more coping through the arts, ricky realizes he's a real theatre kid, ricky is simping for you, seb being seb/a good friend/an absolute sweetheart, ricky distancing himself from lynne (slay), spilling tea (after getting permission to do so), conflicted feelings, nini (and ej but mostly nini) ruins the show, three seperate nini pick me moments, reader is about to snap, ricky and reader are mvps, one playful 'babe' from reader to ricky, nini is one delusional bitch!, brief mention of reader's trauma (jumpy at loud noises, flinches when someone raises their voice), ricky and big red are bros, big red has good opinions bc he stans dr phil, minor big red x ashlyn, kourtney and ricky do not get along lol, reader DOES snap, nini is terrible idk how else to rephrase it she's just the worst, nini gets yelled at by both you and ricky (slay), realizations happen, jones BIGASS love confessions and neck kisses.html, flowery descriptions, ricky picks you up briefly, making out, ricky is good with kids and it's adorable, nini is the only one who calls it YAC, theatre kids at denny's jumpscare, mike is a good dad, you wear one of ricky's shirts, saccrine amounts of love declarations, tooth rotting fluff

summary: after the disaster that was act one, act two also finds some way to go unplanned, causing you to be completely fed up with Nini's unprofessional behavior. you turn a night of confrontations around as you realize something and ricky finally gets something important off his chest.

song recs: entr'acte (hands clean) - jagged little pill obc, smiling - jagged little pill obc, what am I to you - rm, you stupid bitch - crazy ex girlfriend cast, first - niki and gabi, for a pessimist, I'm pretty optimistic - paramore, I hear a symphony - cody fry, something to believe in - newsies obc, let's go to the movies - annie (1982), sunrise - in the heights obc

a/n: fangz again 2 cici for beta reading, prepz fuk off. I'm watching american horror story murder house so uh. i'll let you know how that goes. it's hilarious so far tbh i love basement babyman. also this is ricky at you

tags @yesv01 @afidiofobia @aliyahsutherland @hopefullhearts @pikzel @demirunner @brinaslittlefreak @girlfriendwhoseawitch @matiere-detoiles @ifilwtmfc @uselesssapphickitten @nxstalgicnxbxdy @ggclarissa @n-slayaaaaa @stormi-ames @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @rainforest-daisies @sunshineangel-reads

You had heard the first part of their argument from your dressing room. After that it was muffled yelling - most of which you hoped was Ricky’s. When Natalie called for places, they were still going at it. You found Miss Jenn as quickly as you could, worried about Ricky, unsure if he was still okay to perform.

“EJ is already getting ready to go on.” She tells you. It’s the only answer you need for how ugly things got. She ushers everyone to their places, trying her best to squash their questions and speculations of what’s going on.

“Nothing you need to worry about, just find you places, get in character, get ready for act two…” she instructs. She pulls you aside before you enter the wings.

“Mr. Mazzara is escorting her out as we speak.” she informs you quietly.

“Wait, Mr. Mazzara is here?” you ask. She pauses.

“Uh, yes. He’s been… helping run the lights up in the control booth. It was a last minute-” she shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, the… shrew is leaving and Mike is on his way back to check on Ricky.” You’re relieved that his dad is here for him - and Miss Jenn. You look around momentarily.

“Where is he?” you ask.

“That dusty storage room we shoved the creepy mannequins in.”

The one with the piano. The one where he helped you come down from a panic attack your first day at the El Rey, and…

“...So they’re probably going to wait until the show is over, then head home.” You snap out of the onslaught of memories that stirred up at the mention of that storage room, catching the last half of what she said. “You can keep your phone in the wings to stay in touch, just make sure it’s not a distraction.”

“Okay,” you agree, already feeling it buzzing in your pocket. She nudges you toward the wings as the intro to I Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You starts playing, Nini and EJ’s voices should be floating through the house.

“Now, go be Sharpay!” she says with a smile, and you start to turn the corner, then pause.

“Miss Jenn!” you whisper-yell, and she looks back up at you. “Thank you! For everything.” you say sincerely. She places her hands on her chest, smiling, and you finally find your place backstage.

“Like, full on screaming,” you hear Zeke say to Martha. You try to ignore them, and everyone else talking and whispering. You knew it would spread like wildfire, backstage drama always does. You pull out your phone, blowing up with texts from Ricky and his dad. You keep switching between the two text threads, trying to figure out what happened, to make sure Ricky’s okay. As you type out replies to both him and his dad, you look out onto the stage. Something doesn’t sound right, the gaps between the dialog are too long.

Your brow furrows, trying to figure out what’s going on. EJ’s hand comes up to his collar and he leans forward. Nina delivers her next line more stilted and awkward and out of character than anything you’ve ever seen. You watch, confusion turning into disbelief as Nina covers her mic with her hand, and whispers something to EJ. Being so close to where they’re standing, you’re able to catch most of what she says - ‘seriously, EJ, where’s Ricky?’, or something to that effect.

High pitched feedback whines at the disturbance to her mic, and for a moment you think you must have imagined it. There’s no way, no chance in hell she covered her mic with her hand, broke character onstage, and got EJ to break character too. You take a few breaths, reminding yourself that you’re not the director. Miss Jenn will have to deal with that one. Your phone buzzes as you get more texts from Ricky, and you check it again.

Ricky stares at the little gray box on his screen, letting your words sink in. He still has four shows to perform in. He has more than just tonight to look forward to. All of those shows, every single one of them, is going to go just fine. Even now, through the worst possible nightmare of a thing that could have happened, the show is still continuing; the show must go on. And it will. It is, right in front of his eyes, as he and his dad enter the auditorium, taking two empty seats, Ricky’s right on the aisle. EJ and Nini harmonize, dancing around the stage - like he was supposed to. They finish the last verse of Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You, as the audience applauds. He claps politely as the lights go down.

He mentally runs through what he would be doing if he were back there with you guys. You’re probably getting ready for the scene at Sharpay’s locker with Zeke, standing center stage in the dark, looking at the prop accessories in the pink locker, while Zeke mentally goes over his lines and blocking in the stage left wing. The lights go up, and he’s right. He knows this whole show inside and out, he realizes, and it makes his chest squeeze. Instead of dwelling on that, he leans forward, watching the scene begin to play out. He realizes suddenly that he gets to actually watch you perform. Not just from the wings or during rehearsals or in a grainy camcorder video, but he gets to watch you live.

He smiles a little, realizing how special that is. You deliver your lines flawlessly, bringing a chuckle from the audience with your attitude right when you want one. It’s crazy how you play the mean girl so well, when it couldn’t be further from your real personality. He figures you’re just that amazing. You let out a shrill, frustrated scream, then storm off stage with Zeke trailing after you. When the lights go down, he claps loudly, letting out a cheer. He lets out a shaky breath, knowing you’ll be in the next scene, too - you’re probably quick changing for it right now.

He’s right again, and backstage, you pull on your jacket, relieved to be done a little earlier than usual. It’s probably nerves from everything that happened tonight making you go a little quicker, but you’re not complaining.

“So,” Seb says quietly next to you, bending over to tug on his heels, “what happened earlier? It sounded bad…” You let out a slow, frustrated sigh. He gets the sense it wasn’t just bad, it was really bad.

“Just…” you search for the words, “some personal stuff. Family stuff, I guess.”

“Bad enough for him to leave halfway through the show?” he asks, and you can tell he’s concerned. You pause fixing your belt, looking up to the catwalk and praying for the strength to get through tonight. Seb is one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, and you know he wouldn’t hurt a fly, but the last thing you need to do is add to the whispers, the desire for someone to spill the tea on what happened during intermission.

“It’s really not for me to say…” you trail off, glancing at the other groups of castmates waiting to go on and techies listening for their cues. ‘Later’, you mouth to him. You have to go on any minute, and you want to text Ricky about it before you tell anyone anything. It’s really not your place to tell anyone what’s going on in his homelife. You pull out your phone, sending him a quick text that says some of your friends are worried about him, and does he want you to say anything or keep it under wraps for now. You turn your phone on silent and hide it in your bra before making your entrance on time.

Seb lets out a huff, then follows you off stage as the ensemble runs in from the wings and the music for Wildcat Cheer reprise starts playing. As the ensemble begins dancing, Ricky checks his phone again, seeing a new text from you. ‘What do you want me to say?’ He pauses, staring at the screen. What does he want you to say? Nothing, at first. For a painful, fleeting moment, he wishes none of this had ever happened in the first place, he wishes he didn’t have to keep making up excuses and brushing things off. He doesn’t have to, he realizes. He doesn’t have to keep covering for her, and overcompensating for her shitty decisions. He bites the inside of his cheek, then texts you back.

Backstage, you return to the stage right wing, ready for your next scene. You check to see if Ricky has texted you back, and he did. ‘Tell them she showed up unannounced and we got in a fight. I’m not trying to make her look good anymore.’ You agree, and a part of you is glad he’s not making himself responsible for his mother’s emotions anymore. When your scene is over, you rush to your dressing room to get ready for Bop to the Top. You have a full costume and hair change, and you need to tweak your makeup a little, so it usually takes you the longest to get ready for. Once you’ve applied enough body glitter to choke a bratz doll, you leave your dressing room, meeting Seb on the way to the wings.

Most of the cast is onstage right now, so it’s not very crowded backstage where you stand, waiting for the current song to end. Seb moves a little closer to you and lowers his voice.

“I know it’s probably not a good time to ask, but what in the Mount Saint Helens happened with Ricky?” He asks in a hushed, worried tone. You bite back a smile at his turns of phrase, and sigh. You think back to Ricky’s text, how he said he’s done covering for her.

“His mother showed up…” you say slowly, pausing at the shocked expression on his face.

“She what?” he exclaims quietly.

“And she tried to corner Ricky during intermission,” he gasps, and you continue, “and they got into a huge fight.”

“Oh my god.” he says, thinking back to the yelling he’d heard.

“Mhm.” you confirm, “Miss Jenn had to kick her out so she wouldn’t cause more of a scene.”

“Oh my god!” he gasps in disbelief that it got that bad. He feels like he’s on an episode of Real Housewives. Or maybe Dance Moms.

“Poor Ricky… Is he okay?” His mind constructs different images of Ricky’s mother ambushing him while he tries to get ready for act two. He can’t imagine how terrible that must have been.

“As much as he can be right now,” you say. Seb can see how worried you are about him. This night took a toll on you, and he’s sure Ricky’s dad and Miss Jenn can’t be doing much better. It makes sense, and he’s glad to at least know what happened.

“That’s pretty much it, but I’ll give you the details later.” you say, noting that you have to go on soon, and walking over to Ashlyn so you can enter together.

The music starts, and Ricky has never been more excited for Bop to the Top. He’s never had the opportunity to see you and Seb perform full out like this from the audience, he’s always been just out of view before because of the blocking and where he was supposed to stand on stage. But now, he’s front and center, watching the light bounce off the glitter scattered across your chest and arms. You’re in a gorgeous, glittering teal dress that bounces and moves with every step you take. Your silver sparkling heels match your bracelets, and your hair is pinned up with big pink and white flowers on the side. Seb begins to dance with you, wearing a coordinating outfit that’s just as flashy.

As the music cuts between the basketball game and science decathlon, you and Seb continue to steal the show. Your singing is gorgeous and your choreography is flawless. You harmonize as you spin around, totally in sync. Your attitude, your charisma is overflowing. The two most important events of the show are happening on either side of you, and you’re keeping all eyes center stage. He’s never seen a number with this much energy, this much flare, and based on the way the crowd is reacting, they feel the same way.

As the tension builds, as the time to score the winning shot runs out and the science questions get harder and harder, as the music builds, Ricky’s breath is taken away. At the climax of the number, the East High Wildcats win the championship basketball game, and the science decathlon at the same moment. You and Seb hit the final note, holding it out as you strike your ending pose. Right as you’re done, Taylor kills the lights.

Ricky is stunned at how good the show looks from the audience. But in spite of how amazing it’s been, he can’t ignore the gnawing in his chest anymore. He’s been trying so hard to focus on you, to not be jealous of EJ standing up there reciting his lines, singing his parts and doing his choreography. Seeing EJ up there, seeing Carlos struggle to fill in as Chad makes his stomach sink. It’s supposed to be him up there. He’s supposed to be the one scrambling to make it to callbacks on time, just like he did in real life all those months ago. He turns his attention back to you, as you begin your biggest Sharpay diva moment of the show.

You storm off with Seb at your heels, and you both begin to get changed for the finale. As you get dressed into your white and red outfits, you can’t resist telling him a little more about what happened during act one and intermission.

“...And she just stormed up to me, demanding to see him. Like, I told her, ‘you’re not cast or crew, you are so not allowed to be back here’, but she didn’t care!” Your voice is intense, but hushed.

“Are you kidding?” he demands, shock evident on his face.

“I wish I was…” you laugh softly, just as flabbergasted by the recent turn of events as he is. You inch closer to the curtain, and see Ricky wave to you in the audience - or more specifically in the general direction of where he knows you’d be right about now. His eyes are still a little pink and puffy, and it’s obvious how much everything that happened tonight has fucked him up. Your chest squeezes at the sight, and you wish you could hug him or do something to help. You sigh, trying to think of something encouraging to text him when you get a spare minute to. You snap out of your train of thought when you realize it’s quiet onstage. Your stomach sinks as EJ repeats his line, trying to cue Nina.

“Oh god,” you mutter next to Seb.

“Did she forget her lines?” he asks. Her head turns, and you see what she’s looking at - who she’s looking at. You’re minutes away from the finale of the show, and she’s staring at Ricky. EJ begins speaking again, reciting his lines, but he just keeps going.

“Is he improving?” you ask rhetorically. “Why is he improving?”

You have no idea what’s going on, but this show is going off the rails so fast. It’s like a slow motion trainwreck, and you find yourself unable to look away as Nina whispers to him out of character, for the second time in the last hour. You can feel your blood pressure rise as she breaks character too, the both of them floundering onstage and deviating from every rule of theatre Miss Jenn has been drilling into your heads for the last three months. Again, EJ speaks up, not even trying at this point.

“I’m not the Troy you want,” he says melancholically.

“What the fuck are they doing?” you hiss, and Seb can tell that after everything that happened tonight, this is really the last straw for you - you’re out for blood. You watch in disbelief as EJ just… walks offstage. And that’s it. You think it’s a really good thing he exited to the other side of the stage, because you sure have some choice words for him right now.

“What is he doing?!” you question again, more pissed off than Seb has ever seen you. As if things couldn’t possibly get worse, you can’t believe what you’re seeing. Nina picks up her mic and begins to walk toward the edge of the stage, singing acapella.

“She better not fucking do what I think she’s doing.” your voice is quiet, dangerous, and Seb is momentarily worried on her behalf. Even though you’re like, the nicest person ever, he doesn’t think anyone would want to be on your bad side.

Your hand flies over your mouth in utter disbelief as she walks into the audience and right over to Ricky, signaling for Big Red to follow her with a spotlight. Just when you think this couldn’t be more of an amature hour shit show, she pulls out her phone, turning her flashlight on him. You have no idea what she thinks that’s going to do, and thank god when she puts it away after a minute. She grabs Ricky’s hand, trying multiple times to pull him out of his seat. His heart is pounding, and he can feel himself freezing up. He has no idea what’s happening or why she’s doing this, and he has even less of an idea what he’s supposed to do.

“I’m… really not at my best right now…” he manages to choke out. She doesn’t listen, and grips his hand, limp in hers.

“Just look at me, Ricky. Right at me.” She smiles, like that will fix anything. He shouldn’t go up there, he shouldn’t go onstage when he’s like this. He and his dad had a whole conversation about it after intermission. But with everyone staring at him, Nini begins to sing. When she holds out the mic for him to finish the verse, he does, almost on instinct. He can’t leave her hanging, not like this. He panics, and next thing he knows, he’s letting her drag him onstage. He doesn’t know what’s happening, why she’s doing this, but he moves automatically and lets her drag him onstage.

He’s struggling to keep his voice level, using all his effort to push past the pain, and smile at her. As she finally brings him center stage, taking his shaking hands in hers, he fights with everything inside him to make this work, to make it convincing, and be the finale it was supposed to be. He just has to keep it together for this last number, work through the pain, the ache in his chest and stomach that’s killing him as he stands up there, just for three minutes. As the rest of the cast begins to hit their cues, the energy has never been higher. They’re giving it everything they’ve got to hype him up, give him something to hold onto. He can feel them reaching out to him, singing and dancing their hearts out to lift him up.

He’s trying so hard to be Troy, to seem convincing, to smile sincerely - not at Nini, but at Gabriella. He holds her hands, beaming, thinking about how badly Troy wants to kiss her. He clings onto this moment, the music, this role like a lifeboat. Troy has a great relationship with both his parents, Troy doesn’t come from a broken home. Troy is okay, he’s never been better, which means that Ricky gets to be okay vicariously through him, just for a little while. Just for a few minutes. He holds onto this catharsis as tightly as he can. He’s not going to let this moment be taken away from him too. The audience is cheering louder than ever as they make their way to the end of the song, incredibly confused at the cast changes and Nini’s actions, but they cheer everyone on - especially Ricky - nonetheless.

He smiles at her through misty eyes, holding her hands and gazing at her in adoration. ‘This is it,’ Nini thinks, ‘my Ricky has come back to me. It’s always going to be us.’ He caresses her cheek, and looks at her like he really wants to kiss her as they harmonize. She knows he wants to kiss her, he’s always loved her and he’s always going to. They’ve had their ups and downs, but she knows that Ricky will always be hers. She was his first love, his first everything, and that’s what really matters. They have history, and you can’t fake that, you can’t manufacture that.

The song ends and she drags him into the wings away from you and Seb, shoving his finale costume at him. He fumbles to take off his jacket, desperately trying to stay in motion, to keep moving, keep smiling, keep being Troy. He throws the sparkly white and red tracksuit on over his remaining clothes, and has seconds before he’s going to get dragged back out for the finale of a show he was only able to half participate in. He hates her so much for ruining this for him. He hates Nini for dragging him back up here, for literally putting him in a spotlight in the aftermath of the worst event of his life. He sucks it up, putting on a smile and getting hyped up to sing along to the megamix.

It takes one look at your face for Seb to know just how bad this is. He can feel the rage, the disbelief radiating off of you, and he has no idea what’s going to happen after this. He thinks it’s nice that Nini tried to include Ricky, but she definitely didn’t go about it the right way. He’s sure you’d feel that’s probably the biggest understatement that could be made about the situation.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, really worried. There’s already been so much drama tonight, he knows your bullshit tolerance is in the negatives right now. You stare at Nina across the stage, watching her whisper something to Kourtney with an expression on her face that infuriates you.

“Not sure yet.” You answer quietly, voice dangerous. Finally, you hear your cue, and you and Seb enter the stage.

He watches you change on a dime, transforming into a sassy, fun, reformed mean girl. You dance with him, and flirt with Zeke effortlessly. He can’t find a trace of your previous rage once you’re past the curtain, singing and dancing as Sharpay. There’s a light, fun, playful energy around you, and it’s infectious, making Seb and Zeke and everyone else around you have even more fun out there. For a moment, he forgets how ugly this is going to get once the lights go down.

You make your way over to Gabriella, doing a little dance with her, just like you’re supposed to. You flash her a thumbs up, and wink at her supportively when Troy pulls her closer to dance, just like you’ve been practicing at every rehearsal leading up to this moment. Nina smiles at you when you do, interpreting yours and Ricky’s behavior as more than just stage directions. She feels a sense of benevolent camaraderie with you in these fleeting moments. Maybe she will be the bigger person, maybe she will extend her friendship to you, because even though you did try to steal Ricky from her - unsuccessfully at that - fighting over dumb boys is stupid.

She and Gina run off to pull Miss Jenn onstage so she can deliver her infamous deleted line. It was your idea initially, but you made sure to tell the rest of the cast before tonight so the surprise could be from all of you. The cast and house cheer as she delivers her line, and you can see how much it means to her. You get a minute to dance with Ricky, and make your way over to him as quickly and naturally as possible. You couldn’t seem happier or more care free, but when you speak, your voice is strained.

“I am so sorry that happened…” you say, barely loud enough for him to hear over the swell of the music and the rhythmic clapping as the audience keeps time. He can see it, the frustration being masked by your energetic, jovial nature. You’re doing the same thing he is, he realizes. You’re using this moment onstage and in character to keep the real world at bay. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt closer to you than he does right now. He wants to say something, he wants to feel horrible - he’s sure it’s justified - but when he looks at you, he can’t

You’re onstage together at the end of your opening night performance, with a full house clapping and cheering and singing along with you both, with the whole cast. And in this moment, you’re worried about him. You’re worried about him. He’s so overwhelmed by this feeling of being onstage with all his friends, an audience full of people who came here and bought tickets and watched the show and are now cheering them on for this, the penultimate moment of all their hard work and dedication and doubts over the last three months culminating to this. He knows you know this feeling well, that this is the first show you’ve done in so long and how badly you’ve missed it - and you’re still up here, worried about him.

“There were some… hiccups, but…” he starts, locking eyes with yours, looking at you that way that he does. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt more strongly for you than he does right now. “This is kind of the best, right?” You smile suddenly at his words, relief evident on your face. You feel like you can breathe a little easier knowing he’s doing okay - or at least, better than he was.

“This is just the tip of the iceberg babe,” you chuckle, nudging him playfully. You’re still livid at that… stunt Nina pulled, that hasn’t slipped your mind. But for now, Ricky is okay. That’s what’s important. You’ll deal with her later, if you get the chance.

“Just wait till you see what I have picked out for the spring musical!” you both look over at Miss Jenn as she smiles, drawing an excited laugh from you and Ricky.

Nina looks over, hearing you laughing with Ricky. It makes her stomach sink. She scoffs, figuring it must be platonic. He’s probably just giving you closure, or something. She looks back out into the crowd, and stops dancing as she watches the scout from YAC leave. Her mouth hangs open in disbelief. If she doesn’t get into YAC, the performing arts school of her dreams, what was the point of all this?

After everyone runs forward in groups, then individually to bow in front of the audience, You, Nina, and Ricky are the last to go. He stands between you, lined up with everyone else, holding both your hands as you and all your friends bow as a cast. He snaps to attention as he hears a certain part of the music, squeezing your hand in warning. Confetti cannons go off from the wings moments later, drawing out a new wave of cheers and applause from the audience. You’re grateful for the warning, and you squeeze his hand back as a thank you. Your heart is warmed that even now, after so many difficult things happening back to back in one night, he still remembered that loud noises can make you jumpy.

When Nina goes to share a look with Ricky, her smile drops. He’s already looking at you. There’s a certain type of joy in his eye, the kind you can only find amidst the ashes of misery, as he realizes that through everything that happened, he’s still okay. You’re still here. That’s the important part. You’re still right here with him, holding his hand. He made it to bows. Everything is going to be okay. In sharing this eye contact with him, you can’t help but reflect on how pretty he looks in the blue cast of the stage lights as he looks at you that way that makes your stomach twist.

The curtains begin to draw closed, and you all wave at the audience until they’re out of sight. Sporadic cheers are let out around you as hugs are initiated here and there, and everyone begins flooding to the dressing rooms to get changed. As you make your way to the back, Ashlyn already leading everyone in a very loud, high energy reprise of We’re All in This Together, you squeeze Ricky’s arm. When he looks at you, he seems to be doing exactly as well as you’d expect - okay for now, the massive high from the end of the show keeping him afloat for now, but you know it won’t last forever.

“I’m gonna go get changed real quick, I’ll say hi to my mom then we can go home, okay?” you say quietly, and he can tell from your tone of voice that you’re here for him, he just needs to hang in there a little longer.

“Okay,” he says with a shaky breath. He doesn’t really need to get changed since he has his street clothes on under his tracksuit, so after hanging it up in its place, he waits in the hall outside the dressing rooms. A few minutes later, everyone who got changed the fastest are in the halls and on the stairs outside the dressing rooms, talking and congratulating each other before they go to the lobby. There's a silent understanding that you're all waiting just a few more minutes before you have to leave, before you have to acknowledge that the show is over. Big Red runs over to Ricky as soon as he spots him.

“Are you okay, dude?” he asks quietly, clearly worried about him. Ricky lets out a breathy laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” Ricky realizes how stressed he must be, having no idea of anything that was going on until half way through the show. "There’s a lot to fill you in on." Ricky nods his head, and they move to a more secluded area so Ricky can begin catching him up. He goes over the series of events from earlier tonight quickly, trying not to get worked up over all of it again. Soon he's wrapping up his summary of the horrible things that happened in such a short span of time, and his eyes are much less misty than he was worried they'd be.

"Oh. My. God." Red states, laughing in disbelief that his mother would do something like that.

"Yeah." Ricky nods, still in shock.

"Don't take this the wrong way, dude," Red says tentatively, "but that does sound like something she would do; the guilt tripping, mind games, all of it." Ricky can't help but agree. In retrospect, Red does remember her using a lot of language that read as passive aggressive or guilt tripping. There’s no way they could have picked up on that as kids, but hindsight is 20/20. Ricky loses Red's attention real quick as Ashlyn walks toward her friends, no longer loitering outside the dressing room she shares with you and Nini - and soon, Gina. She holds up a piece of paper from the mystery bouquet she'd been inspecting more closely.

“We found a card!” she says excitedly. Ricky nudges Red, encouraging him to tell Ashlyn that he was the one to send the flowers. He looks at Ricky, nervous, and gets an encouraging nod. Big Red takes a breath, steadying himself, then stands up and walks towards Ashlyn.

"Actually…" he starts. He doesn't need to say anything else, watching the realization hit. They walk a few feet away, talking animatedly and seeming to have a good time. More people start to filter out to see their friends and family, and as they dissipate, he realizes he still hasn't seen you since you went to change. He spots Kourtney passing by a few feet away and runs over to her.

"Hey, uh," he starts carefully. He knows Kourtney hasn't been too fond of him for a while. "Do you know where Nini is?" He knows where Gina and Ashlyn are, and he really just wants to grab you and get out of here without even more drama. Kourtney sucks her teeth, considering how to respond for a moment. She could say something, she always has something to say when it comes to Ricky, but she knows tonight was hard on him. She doesn't know the details, but she's sure the last thing she'd want in his position is more animosity.

"The scout left, and she's taking it hard. I think she's with her moms, but I don't know for sure." He waits a beat, realizing there's no other shoe that's going to drop, no glares or snarky comments.

"Thanks," he says quietly, before making his way to your dressing room. You're probably just having trouble getting everything back in your bag. He thought you had way over packed when you showed him the huge tote bag you got ready for tech week, but by the end, every 'just in case you had brought had been needed more than once. You really know your way around a theater, he thinks.

When you first enter your dressing room, all you want to do is get changed and get out. Ashlyn talks a little - mostly to herself - about how excited she is for the next show. You reply as politely as possible, doing everything you can to avoid Nina, ignore her as much as you can. You just have to get changed and get out. You have bigger issues to deal with, bigger fish to fry than to chew her out for what she did back there.

"Yeah," she replies, a faux chipper tone to her voice "hopefully we won't have as many last minute cast changes tomorrow night," you pause, gripping the empty plastic hanger so hard your knuckles turn white. "But who knows, right?"

You've tried your best, you really have, but you can't take her bullshit anymore. The hanger snaps in your hands with a loud crack. Ashlyn's eyes widen in surprise, and now out of costume, she makes her way to the door.

"I'll give you two a minute…"

The cacophony of voices get louder for a moment as she opens the door to leave, then it's quiet again. You turn away from her to tug on your shoes, praying to god she'll just leave it alone, let you get out of here quietly.

"Sorry," her voice is dripping with a passive aggressive ignorance that grates on your ears. "Did you have something to say to me?" Before she can scoff and drop a yeah, that's what I thought, you turn, looking over your shoulder at her with a stone cold glare. When you speak, your voice is so deadly, so sharp she feels like she's been stung.

"Count yourself fucking lucky that I don't have time to hang around right now, but I swear to god, Nina, if you pull shit like that again-"

"Wh-" she sputters, "excuse me? Pull what? Including Ricky, and helping him?"

"You think you were helping him?" You repeat, turning to face her. You roll your eyes scoffing. "Wow." She starts to say something, but you cut her off.

"Look, I don't know why you're here, but some of us actually take this seriously. This actually means something- this matters to some people, and nobody needs you turning it into a little three ring Nina circus, and ruining it for the people who actually want to be here!" Your voice rises as you continue, driving your point home, and refusing to let her interrupt you. By the time you’re done, her mouth is hanging open.

“I don’t care what you do in your free time,” you continue decisively, “I really don’t, but don’t ruin everything for the people who actually give a fuck!” you say, a humorless laugh at the end. You don’t know who’s been coddling her up until now, but you are sure as hell are not going to let someone get away with a stunt like that. It’s clear from her reaction that no one has ever spoken to her like this, and you think it’s long overdue. “That was the most unprofessional load of bullshit I have ever fucking seen! And I’ve been around the rodeo a few times.”

Nina blinks hard, fighting tears prickling the corners of her eyes. She feels like she’s just been slapped. Her? Unprofessional? Wow. You’re really reaching now. She’s the most professional person at this whole school, she just… She freezes as it hits her in a split second of clarity, that she doesn’t have a leg to stand on. She broke the cardinal rules of theatre; she broke character, went into the audience, broke the immersion. She ruined opening night. You can see the moment of lucidity where she realizes she’s in the wrong, and it’s gone just as fast.

“You’re one to talk about being a professional.” She spits. You look at her incredulously. Once again you have no idea where she’s going with this. When you don’t react, don’t instantly get it, she continues.

“You had a Broadway career handed to you on a silver platter, and you threw it away!” she searches your face for shock that she figured out your secret, continuing, “And for what, so you could slum it at some midwestern high school full of amateurs?”

You figured it was a matter of time before someone found out you’ve done professional theatre before, so if she’s waiting for a reaction from you, she’s not going to get one. The only reason you didn’t tell anyone, the only reason you kept quiet about it is because you didn’t want to come across as cocky or seem like you were bragging. Plus, with how hard things got towards the end, you don’t really want to go around and dig up memories from that time in your life. Besides, you’re not in New York right now, you’re at East High. You’re here with all your friends, finally getting a little piece of normalcy. You’re exactly where you want to be, so why would you waste it living in the past?

Before you can answer, she continues.

“The point is, you need to stay away from Ricky and stop lying to him. Okay?” she demands. Her voice is muffled through the door, but right outside, Ricky hears her loud and clear. He didn’t hear you two before, but now the halls and dressing rooms are mostly empty.

Is she still seriously going on about that? You let out a breath, trying to regain your composure.

“I really do not have the time to keep having the same conversation with you over and over - or explain to you that you can’t tell people who they can and can’t date!” you exclaim. You’re about to drop it, but there’s one more thing you need to get off your chest. “And for the fucking record, you don’t know jack shit about what else was going on in my life when I left New York. And I don’t owe you an explanation either.” you say coldly. You’ve said your peace, the only thing you need to do is fucking get out of here and find Ricky.

“I can’t believe I actually used to look up to you!” she exclaims. “Look. It was cute, or whatever, at first, but this little game of yours has gone on for long enough. He’s mine. Now can you leave him alone, please?” she demands. She’s dripping that passive aggression you’re really starting to get sick of. You look at her in the mirror, illuminated with lights.

“Seriously? You seriously want to do this right now.” You say, exhausted. She either doesn’t hear you or pretends not to as she continues.

“I knew him first! I dated him first, I kissed him first. Everything he’s done with you, he did with me first.” she states. She doesn’t know how else to get it into your head that she was his first everything, and you’re just a rebound or something. What they have isn’t something you can just get over like that.

“You weren’t… every first, Nini.” You both look over at Ricky, and you wonder how long he’s been standing in the doorway, how much he heard.

“Ricky… what?” she whips around at the sound of his voice. He stares back at her, teary eyed and serious.

“You weren’t every first.” he repeats. You both look at him in disbelief. Nina furrows her brow. She can’t believe he’s disrespecting their relationship like this. You stare at him, thinking back, reanalyzing your memories. He can’t be saying what you think he’s saying. There’s no way you were his first time. That couldn’t have been his first time. There’s no way that Ricky Bowen was a virgin before he showed up at your house that night, there’s no way that you took his virginity. ‘Oh god, I did, didn’t I?’ you think, remembering the way he looked at you, how nervous and desperate he was. Heat floods to your cheeks. You have no idea what to do with this information.

“How could you say that?” she demands. She was his first crush, his first kiss, his first date, girlfriend, heartbreak. She was all of it.

“Because it’s true!” he exclaims. “The only first I care about, the only first that matters, is right there.” he gestures to you.

Oh yeah, no, you definitely did take his virginity. You did not expect this, much less that it would make you feel so… tender? Flattered? Warm and fuzzy maybe? You hold back a flustered laugh. Whatever warm thing it is, you’re sure feeling a lot of it. You stare at the ground, cheeks hot, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you process this in the back of your mind. The majority of your attention is still on Ricky. You’ve been so worried, but he seems okay, which is a huge relief. He catches your eye, and your stomach twists. He’s looking at you like that again, and you’re sure you must be looking at him the same way. Anyone could see it. You snap back to attention, remembering Nina is still in the room with you.

“We should get going-” you start quietly, reaching for your bag.

“Stay out of this!” she snaps, and you recoil at the sudden sharpness to her voice. “This is between Ricky and me.” She turns to him, continuing, “And we are not done talking about this.”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” He says quickly, more defensive of you after what happened earlier. He walks over to you, standing in between you and her. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say it in front of her.” Even though his voice wavers with emotion for a moment, Nina can tell he’s not backing down on this. She weighs her options.

“Okay.” she starts, sucking her teeth. “I think she’s manipulating you.”

He lets out a breathy laugh with a bitter edge. He rolls his eyes, looking away for a second.

“That’s… hilarious, coming from you…” he mutters.

“What? She’s been lying to you this whole time! She’s been doing professional theatre for years, Ricky, she-”

“That’s what this is about?” He realizes. “Oh my god, I already knew that!” he yells. Relief floods him as it clicks that all the bullshit she’s been spewing is nothing he didn’t know about already. She really was just trying to get into his head. “She’s not manipulating me, Nini, she’s there for me! There’s a difference! She actually cares about me - unlike you, and Lynne, and everybody else.”

“That’s not fair-”

“She’s actually there for me, and she doesn’t just bail when shit gets hard. Not like you’d know anything about that.” he says the last part quieter, but she still hears it. She doesn’t have a comeback, she doesn’t have anything she can say to that.

“I don’t have to listen to this.” She grabs her bag, brushing past him. Before she leaves, he turns to her, finally saying something he never thought he’d be able to.

“I’m starting to think I wasn’t the problem in our relationship.”

She freezes, turning to him slowly, eyes glistening.

“What?”

“You heard me.” he states.

“You know what?” There’s nothing she can say, no comeback, no way to defend herself. She lets a single tear fall. “Screw you, Ricky.” She leaves quickly, huffing at what he said. He turns to you, still staring at where she left in disbelief. You exhale for what feels like the first time since this confrontation began, then immediately turn your attention back to Ricky. You’re grabbing your stuff as quickly as you can, desperate to finally get out of here, laughing nervously.

“I can’t believe this night keeps getting worse. Look, we can just go home, we don’t have to go to Denny’s or anything if you don’t want to, I just want to make sure you’re okay, because obviously a lot of-”

“I love you.”

It tears from his throat with more raw emotion than you’ve ever heard, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes widen as his hands come up to hold your face. He wants to kiss you so badly, more than he’s wanted anything, and you can feel it. He keeps going.

“I love you so much, I wanted to say it before. I’ve wanted to say it since that first amazing night we spent together. Ever since you snuck me into your room, and we talked and watched old episodes of cartoons, and you took me in when I needed you, I have loved you. And then you got those little plastic rings when we were running late for rehearsal, because we stopped for coffee and peach scones, and- and we traded colors, I felt like my heart was going to explode.”

His thumbs caress your cheeks, and it makes you light headed.

“I wanted to say it when we were dancing at homecoming and you were so beautiful I thought I’d die, I wanted to say it every time we kissed, and every time you laugh so hard your nose scrunches up, I wanted to say it. You made me fall in love with theatre, and this beautiful place, and with you. You love everyone around you so selflessly,” his voice breaks, “please, let me love you. The way you deserve to be loved. Even if you don’t want to say it back-”

“I love you too.” You can’t help interrupting him, unable to ignore how true they are any longer. He’s stopped dead in his tracks. “I would have said something sooner, but the last thing I wanted was for you to feel pressured, so I… figured I’d follow your lead.” The room is quiet as he tries to get the air back in his lungs.

“You love me?” he breathes.

“Yeah,” you confirm, nodding, “I do.”

He takes one look at you, holding you intensely in his gaze, confirming that you really just said that. In one swift motion, he pulls you close to him, dipping you, and finally connects his lips to yours. He kisses you more passionately than anything he’s ever done. He kisses the air out of your lungs, kisses away the little space between you, desperately kissing everything he feels for you onto your lips. You lose yourself for a beautiful moment in that kiss. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, holding each other as close as you can get, with kissing as the only means of expressing the depths of your feelings, but it’s long enough that your lungs burn when you finally pull away. He barely moves his face away from yours as you attempt in sync to catch your breath.

“Say it again,” he murmurs against your lips.

“I love you,” you say, soft and sincere, that beautiful smile on your lips where his ache to be again. He reacts instantly to your words, picking you up, and kissing you again and again. You wrap your legs around his waist, giggling in surprise. He sets you on the table in front of the big dressing room mirror where Ashlyn’s character shoes still sit. The mental note to make sure she doesn’t forget them flies out of your mind as Ricky kisses you again and again, mouth open against yours. His lips are all over your face and your neck, turning you into a giggling mess as he holds you tight. He mutters sweet nothings against your skin that turn sensual very quick, but mostly he keeps telling you how much he loves you between kisses, mumbling the three words into your skin over and over.

“Ricky…” you trail off as he bites your neck playfully, causing you to let out a flustered noise. “We have to go upstairs…” you start to forget what you were saying as he runs his tongue over your skin. “Our parents are waiting!” you laugh, desperately holding onto the train of thought.

“Let them wait…” he murmurs, “You said we could kiss after the show, and… it’s after.” The flustered look on your face is too much for him, and he presses his lips to yours again, pushing his tongue into your mouth. You feel so good, your skin is so soft and you smell so sweet, and it’s all so much more now that he’s said it, now that you said it back to him. He squeezes your thigh and bites your lip and moans into your mouth, loving every noise you make, every tug of his hair and grab of his shirt. He’s so desperate for you and your touch, he would fuck you right here if he could. He considers it for a moment.

After eavesdropping too long for her own good, Nina feels a solitary tear roll down her cheek. Ricky’s words ring in her ears. He loves you. He didn’t just say it back, he initiated it. She didn’t stick around too long, just enough for it to hurt. She reaches into her bag, pulling out her songwriting book. She’s sure this will give her plenty to write about, she thinks bitterly. She could probably get a whole album out of it. ‘At least then the pain would be worth something…’ she muses, taking one last look over her shoulder before leaving the dressing rooms - and Ricky - out of her sight.

Eventually, you and Ricky manage to drag yourselves upstairs and greet people in the lobby. Mike finds him quickly, pulling him aside to check on him. He looks back over at you, accepting flowers from your mom and pulling her in for a hug.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m okay.” He doesn’t look away from you, and Mike doesn’t miss this. His son is a lot of wonderful things, but he sure wouldn’t describe him as subtle. Ricky watches you as a girl in a pink dress walks up nervously to you with who he presumes is her sister. He’s too far away to hear your conversation over the chatter from people milling about, but your face lights up after she speaks. You pull a hot pink sharpie out of your bag and sign her playbill before handing it back to her. The sight makes his chest squeeze. He didn’t know you were good with kids, but it makes total sense - you’re good with everybody.

Mike nudges him toward you.

“Go ahead,” he smiles, so Ricky does.

“Hey,” he starts, pausing when a woman walks up to him, a little girl hiding behind her leg, looking up at Ricky in admiration.

“Excuse me,” the woman says, getting his attention. “You were fantastic. She really loves High School Musical, and we wanted to know if you’d sign her playbill…”

The girl looks up at him nervously, and he smiles, letting out a flustered chuckle. He didn’t expect this, he doesn’t even have a pen - but luckily as always you’re right behind him, extending a sharpie his way.

“Yeah,” he smiles, “sure, of course!” He scribbles his name across the front before handing it back. “What was your favorite part?” he asks. She considers.

“We’re All in This Together.” she decides, singing out the song title.

“No way, that’s my favorite song too!” The way her face lights up is something he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget. She jumps excitedly that someone as cool as Troy Bolton has the same favorite song as her before hiding behind her mom’s legs again. The mom thanks him again before picking up her daughter. Ricky turns to you, not even needing to say anything.

“I know,” you smile, “it’s the best, right?”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It is.” Your eyes light up that way they do when you remember something, and you reach into your bag. You pull out Ashlyn’s character shoes - thank god you remembered to bring them out with you - and gesture down the hall to where Ashlyn is talking to some of her friends that came to see the show.

“I’m gonna give these back to Ashlyn, and I’ll meet you and our parents by the doors in like, two seconds.” He agrees, and you part ways.

“Thank you!” Ashlyn gasps when you hand her the shoes. “I was looking everywhere for these.”

She pauses, remembering how tense things got between you and Nini earlier before she left.

“Was everything okay with…” she trails off, jogging your memory.

“Oh,” you start, a little unsure of how to answer. “Yeah. Everything’s fine now.” You look off to the side, and she follows your gaze to Ricky. He’s talking to his dad and seems to be doing a lot better now, and you seem to be doing better too.

As you make your way down the hall and across the lobby you’re stopped by a woman you don’t recognize, but she seems to know you, addressing you by name as she introduces herself.

“I’m Kalyani Patel, the dean of the Youth Actors Conservatory in Denver. I’ve been following your career for some time, and I have to say, I’m very impressed. You’re incredibly talented and have a lot of notable credits for someone as young as you are. We have one more available place available for the upcoming semester, and we would be thrilled for you to attend.”

“Thank you so much, Kalyani. I’ve heard a lot about Youth Actors Conservatory, and I’m so honored by your offer, but I’m not planning on switching schools at the moment.” You say as graciously as you can.

“Of course, I understand.” She smiles.

“Thank you again for the opportunity, and I hope we can work together in the future.” You smile back, saying goodbye, and making your way over to Ricky and your parents.

After returning to the dressing rooms to write sad song lyrics and watch herself cry in the mirror, when Nina finally finds her moms in the lobby, she has a piece of good news for once.

“The dean of YAC!” she exclaims.

“I thought they were full, sweetie.” Carol says. She and Dana had gotten a rejection letter addressed to Nini a few days ago, and were trying to find the right time to break the news.

“She said a spot opened up,” she beams, “which means I’m going to YAC!”

Her moms hug her, congratulating her on the good news, and that they’d discuss it in detail at home. Nina looks over to where you and Ricky are standing. He holds your hands in his while you talk quietly. You have no idea that soon she’ll be out of here, and you’ll never see her again. She was on the fence, but after what he said to you, she’s made up her mind. She’s leaving this town, and going somewhere that she’ll be appreciated, somewhere she’s wanted. If that happens to be a boarding school in Colorado, then so be it. ‘Take a good look’, she thinks, ‘because that’s the last you’ll ever see of Nini Salazar-Roberts.’

After more mingling, congratulations, flowers, and playbill signing, you turn to Ricky.

“You ready to go home?” you ask, walking toward your car. He stops, turning to look at you.

“You know what? No.” he lets out a breathy laugh. “I don’t want to go home. I… want to go to Denny’s! I’m a theatre kid, and I just finished my first show, and it’s like, tradition to go to Denny’s, so I want to!” You smile at his sudden enthusiasm, laughter matching his.

“Yeah, okay,” you smile, “let’s go!”

You both walk over to your castmates, who are trying to figure out a carpool to get everyone there before it gets any later. You nudge Ricky.

“So, does anyone need a ride to Denny’s, or should we just meet you there?” he asks. For what feels like the millionth time, everyone erupts into cheers. You know all your friends were worried about him after what happened, and Seb instigates a group hug, that everyone quickly jumps on to. You think it’s important to end the night on a good note like this, spending time with your castmates, cramming into booths and singing obnoxiously in an empty restaurant. It’s sort of a rite of passage, and you’re glad that Ricky’s able to participate, especially after opening night of his first show.

You sleep over at his place that night. After everything Ricky’s been through, after he seems to finally be okay again, the last thing Mike wants to do is not let him spend time with someone he’s so close to - especially considering what a good influence Mike thinks you are on him. From what Ricky told him, you didn’t instigate any drama tonight, and spent every spare moment off stage trying to help Ricky through what was going on. It’s not the first time you’ve helped Ricky navigate the ups and downs of growing up in the time you’ve known him, so when Ricky asked if you could stay the night, he agreed. While you’re brushing your teeth, Mike pulls Ricky aside to talk.

“I spoke to Nini’s moms,” he starts, and Ricky braces himself. “They’re going to talk to her, and I said I’d talk to you to make sure these last shows go smoothly, alright? So, no more fights, no arguing, no more of this… reality tv stuff.”

“Believe me,” Ricky sighs, “I don’t want any more drama. Especially at the expense of the show.”

“I know,” Mike agrees. “So just… it’s only a few more shows. Try your best to…” he looks for the words.

“Politely avoid each other?” Ricky supplements.

“Exactly.” Mike nods. “Just politely avoid each other for a few more days, and all this will blow over.”

When he finally reenters his room, he hands you a t shirt to wear. He knows you probably brought pajamas, but he wants to tell you he loves you in as many ways as he can, like wearing his clothes. When you come back in and sit on his bed in his big shirt and your little shorts, he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” you ask tentatively.

“Not really,” he chuckles. “I feel like I’ve kind of talked it all to death by now.”

“You know what we haven’t talked about?” you ask, a look in your eye that immediately has his attention. “How Nina and EJ - but like, mostly Nina - ruined the finale of the show.”

“Yeah,” he starts, remembering how stunned he was. “What the fuck was that?”

You talk shit until you have nothing else to say about it, and soon you’re curled up under the covers together. You’re laughing and talking, and things almost feel normal again. It’s like every bad thing never happened tonight. He doesn’t know how you do it, how you make things feel so okay again, but he holds you tight, clinging onto the feeling. He was going to say it earlier, but he was so distracted by you, by how beautiful you are.

“I love you.” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He feels you smile against his chest.

“I love you too, Ricky.”

You sound so content, so comfortable with him, and he feels like his heart is going to burst.

“I love you,” he says again, running his fingers along your waist.

“I love you too,” you giggle sleepily. Every time you think he’s asleep, he says it again, and again, and again. He can’t help himself, he loves the way you blush and giggle, loves how warm you are against him, loves the way you say it back to him. It’s quiet for a little while, but you feel his hands still tracing little shapes into your skin. You glance up at him to find him staring at you in that way that makes your stomach twist.

“Close your eyes,” you mutter, drowsy.

“But I love you.” he replies quietly, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “I love looking at you. I love everything about you.”

“I love you too,” you answer groggily, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt better than he does when you say it like that. “But we have a full day of school in the morning, then homework, then another show to perform in, so we have to get at least a little sleep.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, eyes growing heavy as the day catches up to him. “As long as we have time for coffee and peach scones.”

“There is literally always time for coffee and peach scones.” he chuckles at how quickly you respond. You lean up, pressing a kiss to his nose, then snuggle back into his chest. It’s his favorite time of day again, he realizes, where he gets to sleep next to you, and kiss, and cuddle. Except this time, it’s better than it ever has been, because right before you fall asleep, he gets to say it.

“I love you.” he breathes, kissing your forehead.

“‘Love you too.” you mutter, barely awake. Your words reverberate and replay in his mind as he closes his eyes, finally drifting off. He doesn’t know how the next shows are going to go, he doesn't know what’s going to happen tomorrow, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about what will happen when the sun rises, he’s just excited for it to happen with you. He sleeps better than he has in a long time.

#hsmtmts ricky #ricky bowen #ricky bowen x reader #hsmtmts #hsmtmts x reader #rocks at your window #I was watching the first episode and there were all the flashes and jumpscares of basment guy (idk his name) but I was like #'oh that guy? that's babyman. he's my neighbor :)'#I love that violet is both pro smoking and pro litter btw #bold stance

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loudhousewriting · 2 months

Note

Can i please get dating headcanons of Lynn Loud Jr. (boy) x fem reader? And only if you want can you write how are her relationships with his family too if you don't want to its fine if you do only the headcanons. And its totally fine if you don't do my request, but have a great day!

Of course! I wasn't feeling super up to doing a oneshot, so I kept it as Headcanons

He's so in love and never even knew he could feel this way

He has a picture of you on his nightstand by his bed. He loves for you to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up and the last thing he sees when he goes to sleep

Kisses the picture, before tucking himself in bed

Keep a picture of you in his sock as a 'Good Luck Charm' during his games

Is always bragging about you. He thinks you're the coolest person in the world

If anyone disagrees, they can get a football up their as-

You, like all the brother's partners, have been victim of Lane's Pranks

The brother's don't have much thought about you. Like, yeah they like you, but to them, you're just Lynn's girlfriend, in the same way Bebe is just Loki's girlfriend

Lars is tired of hearing about you though

^ Also Lynn has created a little shrine for you, which Lars finds impressive, because he [Lars] too has a shrine, but the obsession isn't something he'd be into, so he could care less about it

Lynn is literally obsessed with you

Has that lovesick look in his eyes whenever he's looking at you

One of his brothers compared him to a guy from a romcom and he adamantly denied it, but when he looked at, he realized he kind of acted like that

He takes it hard, but then when he sees you again, he remembers why he acts that way

You just make him a love-filled fool and he doesn't mind

He can get distracted and a little overly-cocky whenever you go to his games

#the loud house x reader #the loud house #loud house #loud house x reader #genderbend loud house #genderbend lynn loud #lynn loud jr.#lynn loud x reader #lynn x reader #lynn

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asvterias · 10 months

Text

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟣: 𝖬𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖲𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗌

Series Masterlist || The Cast || Next Chapter

chapter warnings: mentions of being homesick, getting attacked with a baseball, minor cursing, and minor injuries

chapter pairings: lynn loud x black!fem!reader, bailey!family x bailey!reader, friend!natalie x friend!reader

tag list: @sheluvv-jen

word count: 2.0k+

author’s note: the first chapter is done, how are we looking so far guys??? pls don’t be silent, i crave feedback!! i just realized that this is probably one of the fastest times i’ve ever written.

also, send me a private message, an ask, or leave a comment if you want to be apart of the taglist!

Growing up with a therapist for a mother, you were taught to genuinely express your emotions daily, so naturally it came in handy for your personal use in the future. You spoke strongly against moving from Chicago to restart your life elsewhere in a small town called Royal Woods. But, your parents were so adamant about moving that even your poor attempts were deemed useless.

You weren’t alone in this dispute, your siblings agreed with you, not wanting to leave their life behind. Sadly, your house was already resold so there was no turning back.

In Chicago, you were highly known, well mostly based on your family’s background, but nonetheless, you had a few real friends there. A week before officially leaving your childhood home behind, your friends hosted a goodbye party in honor of you. You appreciated the party planned by your friends and enjoyed the celebration to the fullest.

However, when it was time to leave, you couldn’t find yourself to do so. Maybe it was all of your lingering memories which danced around your mind that trapped you in there. You remained in your bedroom longer than intended, soaking in the lack of joy that your bedroom once vibrantly held.

Your room was completely empty, and all of your belongings were stored away in their respective boxes, probably already shipped to the cargo.

“[Name], stop daydreaming, and come on, we have to leave in 10 minutes!” Your older sister Cass shouted.

Inhaling sharply, you begrudgingly pulled yourself off the bed and left the room, not once looking back.

The plane ride was 3 hours long turning it out to be a complete drag. You slept throughout the whole plane ride and were rudely awakened by your sister, Maddy when you landed.

Despite being jet-lagged, you still made your way to the car and snuggled yourself in a seat. The car ride was smooth for the time being, everyone found themselves occupied with little mundane activities.

Of course, your mom was the first to cut through the silence, often being optimistic. “Come on, girls! It’s great to start anew.”

Your mom tried to make the moving a good thing but was desperately failing at so. Perhaps she should stop trying so hard and accept the negativity for a change.

“Oh yeah, mom. I don’t think us starting anew is doing any of us any good.” Madison intercepts rolling her eyes. “Just take a look at Queen Righteous over there.” She irks her head towards your other sister who was blatantly checking herself out in her hand-size mirror.

“That reminds me, how long are we staying in this town?” Cassandra emphasizes as she starts to file her well-manicured nails.

There was a beat of silence followed along which made her look at mom with a piercing glint in her dark brown eyes. Who was gonna tell her?

“Oh didn’t you hear, dear sister? We’re here for a couple of years so possibly by the time I graduate high school.” Your tone was laced with pettiness, taking in the glory of watching Cassandra’s face fall.

She blinks in astonishment. “She’s kidding, please tell me that [name]’s kidding, mom!!”

“It’s not that bad, you’re overreacting.” Your mom reassures her eldest daughter. “Think of it as a vacation.”

“Yeah, a long-term vacation…” Your dad chirps in the conversation.

You lightly scoff at your parents’ logical explanation, clearly not swooned by it, and put back on your headphones, purposefully ignoring them.

“Overreacting is not the word that I would use.” Madison murmurs with a small smirk. Cassandra closes her eyes, leaning her head against the headrest, clearly irritated at the turn of events.

With a defeated sigh, your mom turned around, giving up on trying to lighten her daughters’ mood.

“You should’ve kept quiet.” Your dad chastises.

Amari scoffs. “Oh shut up, Ben.”

Being tuned out of the world by your songs, you stared out of the car window, observing the town sights. You were impressed so this town better bring the best.

By the time, you reached your new house, it was already nightfall so being introduced to your neighbors was out of bounds anymore. Getting settled into your new home was a hassle, but surprisingly your family managed to make it work.

For dinner, your dad had ordered two pizzas which everyone devoured within seconds. Guess the car ride wasn’t provided with a sufficient amount of snacks to fulfill the hunger.

The remaining of the night consisted of everyone rummaging through their name-based boxes and unpacking basic necessities. For you and Madison, it was partially school related as well. After a rough hour and a half, your parents called it a night and sent everyone off to bed.

The following morning flew by in a breeze. After completing your morning routine, getting dressed, and eating breakfast, it was already 7:45.

To be honest, the journey to school wasn’t as boring as you expected. Once you reached on school grounds, you were introduced by the principal to another high schooler who would be showing you around the school.

Approximately 5’3 and having sensible fashion taste, you were met with your tour guide. She was showing off a beautiful shade of fair caramel with medium-length straight black hair to complement her slender body. She wore a colorful polka dot short-sleeved shirt with denim jeans and black converse shoes.

“Hi, I’m Gabriella and I’m your school tour guide.” She warmly greets you with a wave of her hand alongside a vibrant smile.

“Hey, I’m [name].” You introduce yourself with a small smile before pointing to your sister, “And this is my sister, Madison.”

Your sister gives a small nod of her head in acknowledgment at Gabriella. The perky girl ushers both of you into the school gates. Gabriella gives you and Madison a tour of the school, sometimes adding necessary details about specific teachers that will get you in their good books.

She was kind enough to briefly answer your inquiries regarding the school.

Throughout the tour, Gabriella made certain attempts into becoming your first friend in the school, and you accepted it with a smile. You decided to exchange each other’s numbers on your phones to keep the great bond over messages as well. You had thought that it would take you multiple weeks to gain a friend, but you had underestimated yourself.

Lunch rolled around just in time for the school tour to finish and Maddy had ditched you a long time for new friends.

“Okay, I’ll go get our lunch and you go find us a bench,” Gabriella suggests with a wide grin. The ravenette disappears and left you on your own before you had a chance to speak.

You sigh heavily as you surveyed the surroundings of the lunch areas, clutching onto the handful of books. It was a huge campus, there were many spacious areas to hang out by. Being too invested in finding a certain spot, you failed to notice that you were near batting grounds.

All of a sudden a ball comes flying at you, leaving no time to react and move out of the way. Surprisingly, the ball was directed at your wrist instead of your face.

You’d figure that in a sense that was a better approach. Rather get hit in the wrist than the face. Great thinking!

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!!” You exclaimed, flinching at the impact. Tending to your injured wrist as the ball and your books hit the ground with a thud.

The echos of running feet weren’t fully comprehensive until you looked up and noticed a brunette girl. She was pretty if you were to say so. The girl wore a red baseball cap with her hair styled up in a ponytail and matching colors in her baseball outfit.

“Woah, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” The brunette girl apologizes before her eyebrows furrow in confusion. She removes her baseball cap revealing her face before mildly pointing to you, “I’ve never seen you around school before, are you one of the new girls?”

“No, it’s fine….and yes I’m the new girl,” you replied.

She greets you with a rough nod of her head. “Ok cool, my name is Lynn. Lynn Loud, what’s yours?” Her voice was raspy but oddly welcoming.

“[Name]…Bailey.”

“Come on, I’ll take you to the nurse’s office.” she offers, picking up your fallen books.

You dismiss the brunette girl with a shake of your head and hastily retrieved your books back from out of her hands, unwilling to rely on codependency. Although your response was unintentionally rude, Lynn brushed it off and kept the conversation going.

“It’s the least I can do.” She attempted, wanting to provoke a verbal reply from you. This time, she looked right into your eyes wanting to observe more closer and intimately.

“Y’know for someone who’s injured, you sure don’t like accepting help whenever you receive it.”

Resisting the urge to end this conversation with a snarky comment, you found yourself eventually staring right back into her eyes, and for some reason, you felt flushed under her gaze. You awkwardly shifted on your feet as you attempted to maintain eye contact, seemingly ignoring the fluttering heat in your stomach. Her gaze was so intimidating yet mysterious, and you were curious to discover the meaning behind it. It was unusual for you to get easily flustered, especially to a girl who you just met mere minutes ago.

Luckily, Lynn was the first to break eye contact but her eyes wandered carefully analyzing your facial features. Taking you by surprise, she gently held on to your broken wrist, her attention diverted.

The brunette girl sits you down towards the nearest bench accompanied by a cool shade.

“How bad does it hurt?” her fingers trail around your right wrist, thoroughly searching for the stimuli. “Do you feel any swelling or bruising?” Knowing that Lynn was persistent on getting you some kind of medical attention…you kinda admired her for that trait.

“Didn’t take you for a doctor, baseball girl.”

She chuckles, “Neither did I.” staring back at you, a smile still adorning her face, “But if a cute girl coincidentally gets accidentally injured, I’m obliged to check on her and see if she’s alright.”

Unknowingly, a grin was plastered on your face to which Lynn reciprocated back. She had an endearing charm to her smile and her dimples were just an—

“Ow!” you exclaimed in pain, which brought you out of your train of thought. Despite not pulling away from instinct, you allowed Lynn to cradle your area of discomfort without making such a huge fuss.

“I think that I found it!” She cheered, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm while still being cautious about your well-being. Oh, you would have found her excitement so sweet but the current throbbing pain disagreed, desperately needing to seek professional help.

“Fine…but maintain a distance, don’t want anymore more unnecessary injuries.” She finally lets go of your wrist and puts your books in your bag before zipping it close.

Her confused expression made a smile slightly from upon your lips but your pointed playful gaze gave you away. It was adorable watching how it finally clicked in her mind and she sends you a sincere smile, her dimples poking through her cheeks.

“I’ll try my best.” She jokes, nudging you with her shoulder, content with your playful banter. Lynn slings your bag over her shoulder and helps you off the bench as you both head toward the nurse’s office.

Perhaps it could be the start of a second amazing friendship today.

#the really loud house #annaka fourneret #lynn loud #lynn loud x reader #lynn loud x fem!reader #lynn loud x black!reader #lynn loud jr #lynn loud jr x reader #lynn loud jr x fem!reader #lynn loud jr x black!reader

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dominantslasherking · 2 years

Note

hello!

could i request michael myers x a reader who's like hannibal? (seggsy smart cannibal type shit 😛)

maybe they would've met in the psychiatric hospital and then worked together (eventually as lovers) when they escape

Michael Myers with dominant Male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+

Michael wasn't one for picking a seat in lunch at the asylum where it had people, he preferred to eat alone, but watching you, caught his interest, the way you picked the nurses apart and made them unsure of what they were doing or how to approach you again.

"Thank, you Mrs. Lynn, the food at least looks appetizing now.." You gave a cold smile to the nurse, as she gave a smile and walked away.

Your eyes suddenly glaze towards Michael who took a seat beside you, "Mr. Myers, you seem to be quite the talk around here..." You lifted your fork in your food and took and bite, before letting out a sigh while swallowing it.

"I fear, the food, here is quite, tasteless....but I suppose what do you expect feeding killers?" You spoke out.

Slowly, turning slightly towards Michael you gave a smile, "Pleasure to meet you, I'm (Name) (Last Name)...I know that you are a selective mute, so I will not budge or prod you for your introduction, that would be quite rude, wouldn't it?"

<<>><<>>><<<>>>>>><<<>>>>><<<<>>>>>>><<<<<<>>>>>

Over the past couple of months, both you and Michael have grown rather close, close enough that he would speak a bit, of course not in full sentences but he still got his point through or something along the lines of that.

Planning escape was something both of you have been recently talking about privately, it was such a bore here, the food, the nurses, the guards...

"Hey! Human eater time to go back in your cell!" A guard called out, pushing an upright gurney into view as he was about to reprimand you, you forcefully grip his head, tilting it to the side so you could get a view of his neck.

In swift movement you harshly bit down on his neck, your hands dangling towards the keys quickly snatching them, as Michael made swift movement past you, as you handed him the keys.

Other guards budged in and didn't hesitate to tase you, knowing that that didn't stop you, they grabbed the cannibal mask from the bleeding out guard, and wrapped it around you.

You stopped struggling as they hurridly put you on the upright gurney.

<<>><<<<<<>>><>>><<<>>><<>>><<<<<>>>><<<<>>><<>>>><<>>>><

For about two weeks you weren't allowed in the cafeteria, and you were put in solitary confinement until they knew you were calmed down and moved you back into your room.

It was currently nighttime as you heard a knock on your door, you got up to the knobless door watching as it carefully opened, you smiled, as you saw Michael in bloody white clothes the keys in his hands.

Michael looked at you to see if you were okay, but you simply kissed the side of his mask and spoke, "Let us go, before more guards come..." making your way out of your room and into the dark...bloody halls.

"Follow me...the backdoor of the building has less security...I've been mapping my stay here...so I know the place like the back of my hand..." You slowly pulled out, Michael not surprised at your brilliance.

<<<>>><<<>>><<<>>>>>>>><>>><<<>>>><<<<>>>><<>>>><<<>>><<>

"No! No! Pleaseee!" The woman cried out struggling against Michaels's grip, as he brought her into the dining room.

"Oh, you brought me a live one...ah, she was quite rude today, wasn't she?" You slowly spoke remembering her at the dinner party you held.

"Snap, her neck darling, she's quite the chatty one...Maybe I will put her tongue to use..." You thought out loud as Michael quickly complied and snapped the woman neck in an instant.

You let out a hum placing the dishes on the table, "She will be good for tomorrow's dinner..." Michael nodded as he grabbed the dead body and brought her into the kitchen as you finish setting the table.

"I have prepared, 'Tête de veau sauce verte,'" You spoke as Michael made his way back into the dinning room, trying to hover over you until you suddenly straighten back up and height wise matching him.

Slowly lifting his mask up, as his lips revealed you planted a kiss before taking the mask off fully, "No masks at the dinner table," You gave a smile, as you looked at his handsome face and disheveled hair.

#michael myers x male reader #michael myers x reader #michael myers fanfic #Slasher x male reader #Michael myers #Slasher x reader #Michael Myers x cannibal male reader

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georgiapeach30513 · 1 year

Text

More Than You Know - Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Summary: It’s a snow day for the Levinson’s

Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, PIV sex, unprotected sex, pregnant sex, creampie, cockwarming, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.1K

Series Masterlist

*dividers by @firefly-graphics

You let out a soft moan, gripping onto Ari’s hand resting on your belly. Whimpering out his name when he pushes back into your warmth. He gives the swell of your stomach some soft rubs as he kisses on your neck. “Ari.”

“Shh, Sparky,” he whispers on your heated skin. Middle of the night was all that you had left for sex. You often woke up to Ari driving into your cunt. You had been growing a baby, and told him just to have it, and he took greedily from you almost every night, well early morning.

“What time is it?” You ask panting as he slides back into you. If your belly wasn’t so large, spooning sex might not be the only option. He was a horny man, and he made sure you stayed stuffed full of him; he had to make up for lost time. “Ari,” your voice was too loud, and he covers your mouth with his hand.

“It’s just three,” you groan, rolling your eyes. No wonder you were always sleepy. But damn, if he didn’t feel good. His slow, but hard thrusts rail into you, and you lean your head back. “Fuck, you’re so sensitive. You realize how many times I’ve made you come before you even woke up?”

Your cunt was pulsing. He was so filthy, but the way his hand ran over your belly, it was so sweet. You were not just a way to wet his dick, you had given him a family. A family that was always his, despite him ignoring that fact for far too long. He was always meant to be Angel’s dad. “Ah, shit,” he grunts on your shoulder, and you feel his cock twitch. He was so close, and denying himself relief. “It’s the only bad thing about snow days. The kids are with us every second of the day.”

“You like it,” you arch your back, as he hits you extra deep. Sliding into you just right. Clenching over his girthy length so tight that he spews deep into your abused pussy. Slamming his sweaty forehead on your shoulder, where he takes ragged breaths in between kissing your sticky skin. “Mmm, that was nice. Let me keep you warm for a minute.”

“Can’t stay like this. Aria will be running through that door as soon as the sun peeks in through her window. Angel won’t be far behind.”

“They better be asleep right now though,” you lace your fingers in his, and he gives that big ole belly a squeeze. “Amelia, if you decide to make your debut with this amount of snow, we’re going to have a problem. You just stay in there cooking. Mama doesn’t want to drive in the snow.”

“Daddy doesn’t either. Daddy doesn’t do well when it’s time to push the babies out.”

“And daddy is a pro at this point,” you can already feel your eyes getting heavier as Ari snuggles in closer to you. “You kept your boxers on right?”

“Uh-huh. Learned my lesson. If I fall asleep in you, I can just cover it right up,” you allow sleep to overtake you. Ari always made you feel so much better. So loved. So full. So very very full. He enjoyed keeping you stretched. And you enjoyed prolonging the sex to warm his cock. It kept the two of you closer together.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Aria giggles as her sled goes faster down the hill. A mix of fear and pure joy as she picks up speed, but heads straight towards Angel. Her brother jumps out of the way right as her sled comes to a halting stop, and she looks back up at you and Ari with a permanent grin. “Did you see!”

“I did!” He leans over to give Ava a quick kiss on her chubby cheeks, before running down the hill to help Angel and Aria.

“Dada!” Ava grunts, patting her mittened hand over your belly. “Down!” You place her on the ground, and make a buzzing sound, “But dada,” she looks up at you with a pout.

“Daddy will be back up here in a second, Ava Lynn,” she stomps her foot up at you, and looks back down the hill as Ari and her brother and sister bring up the sleds.

“Me and dada?”

“Yes, baby, you and daddy can go down next. Your wittle cheeks are getting cold, you know that?”

“Me and mama?”

“Absolutely not,” Ari huffs out, rubbing his hand over the belly. “Mama has to keep Amelia safe. You wanna go down with me or Angel?”

Angel makes sure to give you a quick hug, and you press a hand up against his cheek, making sure none of your babies were getting too cold. “Mama, I’m fine.”

“We got five more minutes, and we’re going inside for fuzzy blankets, and hot chocolate, okay?” All the kids give you an okay, and Ava sits in the sled. Giving her body a few scoots, but Ari puts a boot in it, stopping her from going down the hill, and gives you a filthy kiss.

“Dad!” Angel groans.

Aria presses her face into your side, “Mama, I’m cold. Can we go in?”

“Let Angel, and daddy, and Ava go down, and me and you can get everything started. You can sit in front of the fireplace, and warm your delicate little fingers okay?” Your mostly sensitive little girl nods her head, and starts walking towards the house. “Ava, you listen to daddy.”

“Yep. Dada go!”

You sit back, rubbing your belly as your kids create their perfect hot chocolate. Adding their different peppermints, bombs, truffles, whipped cream, marshmallows, sauces, cookies, and whatever else their little heart could desire. Aria was already on her second cup; dressed in your fluffy onesie with the hood up, and even a robe over that. Ari holds onto Ava’s cup, but lets her make her own. She always wanted everything. A little bit of every single sweet.

“Mama, can I lay in my nest?” You give a nod to Aria and she heads into the living room with her nest of fluffy blankets, and wraps one around her.

You grimace when Amelia kicks you hard, rubbing your hand over the area, and Ari was right beside you, “What was that?”

“Babe, she’s just kicking.”

“No contractions? It was just a kick?”

“Yes. Take Ava in the living room, and I’ll make our drinks. And yes, I won’t forget extra marshmallows on yours.”

“Mama,” Angel smiles at you, holding on to your belly, and he gives it a little squeeze, “Can we watch Harry Potter?”

“Yes, now make sure you’re nice and toasty.”

“She’s not coming out, yet?” Shaking your head no, Ari scoops up Ava, and rushes her into the living room. Sitting her in his lap, and he gives her the cooled down version of hot chocolate.

“Go on, and stretch out, baby. Let mama make mine and daddy’s hot chocolate,” Angel still remembers how he had to basically force the two of you together. Could even remember calling Ari by his name, but he’s so happy he gets to call him dad, and it was official. Angel Levinson was still currently the only boy. Ari promised he was going to keep you full of him until he made another boy. You weren’t sure if you wanted to keep having the sweetest little girls, or wanted the pregnancies to stop.

Angel was such a good big brother. Stopping to see if Aria needed anything before he stretched out in his spot on the beanbag. Holding the mug with both hands, and you look around at your favorite people. You were so glad to move far away from Santo Padre and from Charming. Moving all the way to the east coast. New England was much colder, but it had your heart. And with your family here, even the snow couldn’t make you feel cold. You were always warm with the love of them, and each and every little baby that Ari put inside of you.

Sitting beside your husband, Ava taps along your belly, and looks up at you laughing, “Same time, same place, Sparky?” Ari gives you a quick wink, and you nod your head.

“You never get tired, huh?” Of course he didn’t. He promised you he wouldn’t, and he kept his promise. Waking you up with his pounding thrusts almost every night.

“There’s just too much to keep me awake. I love my nights with you.”

“Start the movie, Ari.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @peaches1958 @spnaquakindgdom @nana1000night @thedarknessilove @ilovetaquitosmmmm @brattyfics @raging-panda @nunya7394 @berberriescorner @capswife @thisreadswhatever @flannellover67 @ticosas @terry2227 @infatuatedharleys @phoebeztonkinz @lilac-tea-time

#more than you know #ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson x you #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fics #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fic #red sea diving resort fanfiction #red sea diving resort #rsdr #chris evans

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allexthakatt · 2 years

Text

I am writing this as a small form of therapy lol. I may have projected a tad bit into the story due to my own personal life but it is still very much a X Reader one shot I promise.

This is also my entering to the #lovelylynnchallenge by @lovely-lynn-writes ! I love their work and I figured why the hell not?

-Please keep in mind I have been out of the writing game for a bit.-

PAIRING: SPENCER REID X PLUS SIZE! LATINA! FEM! READER

WARNINGS: SMUT! MINORS DNI!!! 18+ ONLY! A bit of family drama, the fear of thunderstorms, lightning, maybe mild angst if you squint?

Summary: Spencer and Y/n haven't really talked or connected before. But when a loud thunderstorm roars overs Quantico, Y/n struggles to keep her childish fear at bay. Who else to stay by her side than a sweet lanky FBI agent?

-----

Thunderstorms Are Scary, But You Make It Better.

It was getting pretty late by the time the jet arrived back at Quantico. At that point the team was glad to have made it back safe and sound given the angry looking clouds surrounding the building. Lightning was far in the distance and, though pretty far, Y/n can tell a pretty bad storm was coming their way.

The look on her face throughout the whole ride home was flat out proof of her uneasiness. She never liked thunderstorms. They always made her want to hide under the bed like a scared puppy all alone. No one seemed to really pay attention to her being uncomfortable. No one except Spencer.

Y/n and Spencer weren't really friends. But they weren't enemies either. They were simply coworkers. At first, Y/n had tried to make friends with him. Even going as far to bring him a brand new book she'd heart him talking about a few days prior. To no avail unfortunately.

It's not that Spencer didn't like her. In fact he liked her quite a lot. Often choosing to just enjoy her personality and humor from afar. It's simply because he was... Afraid. He knew from the start he'd develop something with her. A certain something he didn't want to think about anymore. Not after all he'd been through with so many women before her. He'd for sure crush on her. Truth be told, he already was. (Not that bed admit it.) There's no telling what might happen if he put himself in such a vulnerable state again. After what happened with Cat and then Max... It was best to just stay away.

But the way she looked tonight. The slight tremble she had when a thunder boom would get just just a bit louder than last time. The fear was building, slowly but surely there. The tough facade already cracking. Yet it seemed no one noticed her distressed state. Why? She was clearly uncomfortable, rubbing her thighs with the palm of her hands (something she'd probably had developed as a habit to help anxiety.) Not engaging as much in conversation as much, not even making eye contact anymore.

By the time they were all walking in the bullpen she was lagging behind, not really looking forward to drive in the weather. Spencer had seen enough to feel the need to do something. She wasn't a friend, but he wouldn't be able to relax at home knowing he didn't at least offer.

"Do you maybe want to ride together?" The question came out of the blue, especially from Spencer. She wasn't about to turn down company in the storm though. "Uhm, sure. But I live a little ways away, I wouldn't want to be putting you out of your way." Spencer shook his head, "You wouldn't be. It seems a pretty nasty storm is on the way, and I saw you pretty nervous on the jet. I just want to make sure you get home safely."

He noticed? Y/n genuinely thought Spencer wants nothing to do with her. Confusion on her face, "Are you absolutely sure?" Not wanting any regrets from him. "Absolutely. I can even drive if you'd want." She shook her head, "No no no, I think I'm okay enough to drive. Thank you though. But how are you going to get back home?"

The elevator opens for them after Spencer pushes the button. "Oh I usually take public transportation. I don't use my car much." They reach the lobby as Y/n pulls out her keys. "You can just sleep on the couch. I don't want you going on the subway in weather like this. If that's okay with you?"

He'd thought of the situation, it would be nice not having to go back out in the rain. With his go bag and satchel as they were quite heavy for the long journey. No harm in just a night, right?

The car right was silent for the most part, aside from the calm music coming from the radio. Y/n was just trying not to look at the ominous lightning that seems most definitely closer than earlier. Spencer was trying not to focus on Y/n.

The storm was coming in heavy pellets when they finally walk through the door. Spencer looks around and sees what he can only describe as Y/n. Vintage vinyl records framed with the album cover right beside it. A fairly big TV with an Xbox and a few games and controllers scattered around. At the center of the wall was a guitar, one that she'd most definitely cherished. It was dusted, in pristine condition. With an autograph on near the bottom.

"Steve Harris." She said. Spencer turned to her, a confused look spreading across his features. "The autograph on the guitar. I see you eyeballin' it. Steve Harris signed it back in 2012. He's a guitarist in Iron Maiden." She had a smile on her lips, remembering the day she met her heroes. He nods slowly, "Is Iron Maiden a band?"

She giggles slightly, finding it cute and yet not surprising he'd never heard of them. "Yea they are. A heavy metal band formed in the 80s and still going strong today. My favorite band actually." She took off her shoes and jacket, about to go change.

"The bathroom is right over there, if you wanna get into something more comfortable than a suit. I'll be right back, I'm gonna get in jammies myself." She walked away and he notices how she said 'jammies' instead of just 'pajamas'. another cute little quirk she has he finds himself thinking about often. Her personality is very confident, yet her demeanor is often times shy and reserved. She never really talked about her family or childhood. He guesses there's a story as to why.

"Okay, I'm back. Do you want some tea or water? I don't have any coffee but I can do hot cocoa if you'd like." She made her way to the kitchen to prepare storm tea for herself. "Just tea is fine, thank you. I'll be right back."

The tea is brewing as he leaves to change. She'd never thought he'd actually be here in her house; Spencer of all people; this late at night. Perhaps there was just a misunderstanding between them and she'd just assumed he didn't like her. She gets along so well with everyone on the team but when it comes to Spencer, she freezes up. Afraid to say the wrong thing.

The storm is right above them, making Y/n more on edge than ever. They're both on the couch lightly chatting as a massive bout of thunder booms, sending Y/n practically jumping into Spencer's arms. And just as luck would have it, the power goes out.

Sitting in Spencer's lap in the dark was a lot more sensual than she'd thought. Of course how wouldn't it be, though, right? Especially when Spencer finds her so damn attractive. Y/n quickly stands up, still scared from the thunder and flustered from being in Spencer's arms.

Y/n lights a few candles in the living room, navigating her home with her phone flash light. She also opens a window because, while also being terrified of thunder, she loves the rain itself.

"Is this okay? I can close it if you want. I just like the rain." She sits down with her tea near the window. "That's fine. But I'm assuming you don't like the thunder though, right?" He sits beside her with his own tea. "I really don't. I never have. In fact as a child I'd hide under the table and cry when it'd be this loud. My mother always said it was fine not to worry so much, never believed her though."

She smiled lightly and looked down. It wasn't a smile you'd do thinking of your mom, though. And Spencer noticed. "How come you don't really talk about your family?" It came out too fast, and he'd regretted it immediately. "I'm sorry if that was a little forward. You don't have to answer if you really don't want to." To which Y/n thankfully replied "Don't worry about it. I'm not sure why I don't talk about them. I just.. Don't I guess."

She fiddles with her nails, another habit she'd developed to help anxiety. "I don't really talk to them much anymore. Not my siblings anyway. We don't really get along, never really have. I'm not like them, thank God. And they have a pretty petty problem with who I've become. It's that things are better if we don't talk anymore." The darkness only adds to the silent environment. "My mom usually sides with them, but my dad always just did his best. He's the one that actually took me to the concert where I got that guitar."

That makes sense. That guitar isn't just a fan memoir, it's a memory with the one person in her family she felt safe with. Spencer put it all together. Music was probably a way to ease her pain when nothing else did; an escape for her, just as books were an escape for him. Then when her dad took her to see her favorite band and even meet the band themselves, it meant much more to her than just a simple autograph on a guitar. That's why it's so taken care of, in the center of living room where she sees it every day. It's her most prized possession.

"Do you still talk with your father?" He wanted to learn more. He'd never really had a family, his mother having episodes more frequent than not and an absent father made it hard to feel like he had one at all.

"Occasionally, I call as often as I can, what with all the cases. He's still the same old fire chief he was back then. Out of all of them my dad's the only one that really kept a bond with me." She takes another sip of tea, trying not to really think of her broken family life. Y/n didn't really want to bore Spencer with her sob story of how her siblings practically despise her and her mother doesn't like her.

Spencer takes a risk, a pretty big one at that. He lightly puts a hand on her own. To his surprise Y/n take his hand in hers, awkwardly holding it avoiding eye contact.

Eventually her curiosity takes over. "Why don't you ever talk to me? Or.. Do you not really like me?" She still avoided eye contact, her shyness showing through the tough exterior. Spencer doesn't really know how to respond. Is he honest? Tell her that he's just a damaged boy with lots of trauma but still really likes her? Or lie and say... What would he even say? No lie could sound better than the actual truth so... Why not just tell her?

"I actually really like you, Y/n. I've been through a lot. Especially when you first came on the team, I wasn't really ready for a new friend. And by the time I realized what a wonderful person you were, it was already too late." He scoots just a bit closer. Close enough to hold her hand more securely than before.

Nothing could really prepare for that. She doesn't know what she was expecting, but she wasn't expecting that, that's for sure. Deciding to take it a tiny step further; "Everyone deserves seconds chances." Looking up to see him already staring in her eyes.

Her eyes were so pretty. He could stare at them for as long as she'd let him. And her lips. Her lips were so plump, so ready for the taking. Practically begging for him to inch closer, so he does.

He inches just a bit closer, seeing her pupils dilate just a little. Enough for him to see a difference. "Do I get a second chance, Y/n?" They were centimeters apart, her heart beating as loud as the thunder outside. (Which she had all but forgotten about in the moment.) Seeing him so close to her, the only light in the room being a few candles and the occasional lightning shining through the open window, and his pupils just as darkened as hers were. How could she say no?

"Of course you do." He leaned in and closed the gap, gently gripping her face with his free hand and he kisses her with all the passion that's been building up all this time.

She leans into the kiss, hands around his neck inching closer to the roots of his hair begging to be pulled. He tasted like tea and honey, a small hint of peppermint. His scent made her body burn, nothing she could really explain. It was just... Him. A hint of cologne and a but if aftershave, but it was him. And he was all over her.

Hands started to roam her frame. Too long had he imagined how she'd feel underneath him, every curve and dip waiting to be explored by him. She was so soft, so delicate, so fucking irresistible he had to get to know every inch and remember it for a later night.

She fell back onto the couch, bringing him with her. He lay between her thighs, gripping him in place and keeping him there. Where he belongs.

God... He thinks. How could she already feel so good? He knows she could probably feel how hard he is already through her thin shorts, and oh was he right.

She felt him, all right, and holy shit. He was big. Bigger than what she'd originally thought. Not too thick, but long indeed. Long enough to get the job done, she assumes. Hopefully, she doesn't have to wait too long to find out.

Without realizing it Spencer starts mindlessly grinding against her. Needing some type of friction to ease aching in his groin, begging to be released with the beautiful woman he has under him. Her breath is becoming more erotic, wanting him so much closer than where he is. She can hear little grunts from him, and decides she needs to hear more.

His hands are grabbing at whatever they can get (mostly her thighs) so tight she's sure she'll have some marks on her in the morning. Not that she really minds, though.

"Spen-Spencer.. Please.." She was hot and heavy, feeling like she was about to snap if he didn't get inside her soon. "Tell me what you want, baby." He needed to hear her say it. Straight up how much she needs him.

"Spencer.. Fuck me."

He didn't need to be told twice; he sits up, slowly lowering his pants to tease her just a bit more. Two can play that game, Y/n sits up slightly, undoing the buttons of her shirt even slower than he. Making sure to look right into his eyes. He's staring right back, anticipation building up, and the last button is finally gone as is his pants.

Spencer didn't want to waste any more time not being inside her. He practically rips off her shorts and panties, keeping in mind where they land for later, knowing she'll need them again. Spencer leans down again, his hands cupping both breasts and pushing his face between them. This, he thought, is what heaven is.

She tugs on his shirt and before long that's gone too. Her hands roam and touch at anything she can reach, but before she can explore further, he pushes her back.

"Are you sure you want this? We can stop now, Y/n." He didn't want any hesitation, he needed to know this is what she wants. That he's what she wants. "Yes, baby. I want this. I want you."

She gives him another kiss, except this one felt more... passionate. She wanted him in every single way, any way he'll allow her.

As their tongues fight to dominance, he slides into her, she's so dripping wet already he's not surprised he can go in so smoothly.

He's finally fully in, and she has to break the kiss to let out the sexiest sound he's ever heard. She feels so good, so beautifully wet and the best part is, it's all for him.

"Ugh, fuck baby... You so wet for me, huh?" He does a little thrust, emphasizing the sound it makes. "O-oh, Spencer.. Fuck.. All for you baby. Only for you." Her grip on his shoulders tighten and her breathing increases. Spencer can't think of anything but her. Beautiful, sexy, special Y/n.

His thrusts becoming more rhythmic, and the sounds coming from both her and him are absolutely sinful. Y/n tries to focus, attempting to commit this all to memory. She hopes this isn't a one time thing, but if it is, she wants to remember every minute of this.

One hand grips her thigh and the other gets tangled in her hair, loving the way her body feels against his. The moans coming from her mouth making it difficult for him to keep it together, and she's having the same problem.

"Ugh! Fuck, Spencer I'm so close..!" He's hitting that perfect spot, that perfect angle and it's about to send her over the edge.

"Cum for me baby. Let me know just how good I'm making you feel." His grips tighten and so does her stomach. The moans are getting louder now, Y/n no longer having the mental capacity to keep herself in check.

"Ack...! Fuck! Spencer!" She didn't have to tell him, he knew, and fuck did she look good. Her head tilts back, giving him the perfect opportunity to leave little marks, claiming her as his.

He can feel himself get closer to that same high. "Where do you want me to cum, baby?" He'd cum anyway she'd wanted, but she had to tell him soon before it spills into her.

"I-I'm on the pill baby.. But you can pull out if you want to. I've never had someone cum on me before." She pulled him even closer, kissing his neck and pulling on his hair. That was it, his orgasm coming full force as he loses his composure. "Oh fuck, Y/n!" He pulls out, spilling over her hips and abdomen.

They lay there like that for a couple minutes more, not wanting to leave each other's embrace quite yet. Until Spencer sits up lightly and leaves a kiss on Y/n's forehead.

"Let me get you a towel, darling." He gets up to go to the bathroom. Leaving Y/n laying with a smile on her face.

When he returns with the towel he leans down to clean her up. Wiping away all evidence of him off of her. She sits up, reaching for her shirt and putting it back on.

"I didn't even realize, the storm has passed." They both let out a laugh, thank it wasn't awkward now that they'd been intimate.

Now that they were sitting together again, fully clothed once again, Spencer spoke up. "Would you like to go on a real date with me? I'd like to get to know you. The real you."

She smiles at him, "Spencer, I'd love to."

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Should I do a tag list? I know I don't update much, but if that's something you'd wanna be a part of let me know!

Enjoy! Baiii! 🥰

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #lovelylynnchallenge

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