#Sadie asking the right questions

[kimmiessimmies]

Let's Talk About... (19/28)

“Do you feel a bit reassured now, lovely?”

Rachel nodded. She still felt a bit scared about all this, but it had been good to hear her friend’s thoughts about it all. She had been nervous to ask Sadie, but she also knew if there was anyone she could talk to, it was her.

“I’m glad we had this talk, Sadie.”

“Me too, Rach. Never hesitate to ask or tell me anything, okay? Nothing is off-limits, and anything you tell me stays with me, I promise.”

“I know that,” Rachel smiled. “I’ve always trusted you.”

“Good. Likewise,” Sadie smiled back. “Shall we head back now?”

“Yes,” Rachel said, “Let's go."

“I need to know one thing though, Rach…”

“Go on?”

“Do freckles continue down below, too?”

“…Yes��� They do…”

[theyluvkarolina]

౨ৎ PANIC ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ Oscar doesn’t mean to come off as a panicking first time father, but his little one is his whole world! How will that anxiety crawl up when and boil over when it’s her first Grand Prix?

PAIRING ౨ৎ Dad!Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ oscar is just a nervous first time dad 😞

A/N ౨ৎ OSCAR REQUEST 🗣️, Sadie loves to terrorize Oscar, and I love that. A little menace she is.

OSCAR NEVER EXPECTED to be a father this young. He would have at least thought that he’d have a Championship, turn 25, or even get married before he had a child. But life had its own plans.

From the moment he first held her, everything else faded into the background. Racing, which had been the center of his universe, now revolved around his daughter. She was so small, so delicate, and every little noise she made sent his heart racing.

Oscar was known for being calm. Level headed. Realistic. Yet, when it came to his little girl, things changed. Drastically.

Everything was a threat. It started with the small things: a tiny cough, her first stumbles and falls when she first attempted walking, the way she’d put everything she found into her mouth. He tried to stay calm, telling himself that every parent worried, but it never took much for that anxiety to creep up on him. A trip to the playground turned into a mental obstacle course—every slide was too high, every swing too fast, and the idea of her falling down onto the wood chips make his skin crawl.

And now, it was the moment many fathers in Formula One would love: to see their children watch them race. But Oscar? He was a wreck.

`· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑

The night was quiet in Australia, the moonlight shining through the blinds of his parents home you both decided to stay in before the start of the Grand Prix around the corner with the chirping crickets forming their own harmony outside. With Sadie finally asleep in Oscar’s arms, a small smile tugged at your lips before you spoke.

“You know… I’ve been thinking.”

Oscar glanced over softly, his eyes warm with affection. “You? Thinking? I’m bracing myself here.”

“Haha. Funny.” You took a deep breath, carefully choosing your words. “I was thinking… maybe we should take Sadie to the Australian GP. I know it’s her first one, but it could be a special experience for her. And for us. I mean, it’s your home race. Our home race.”

Oscar's fingers lightly brushed against Sadie's soft, downy hair as he shifted her gently in his arms. The quiet, tender moment was interrupted by your suggestion, and his brow furrowed slightly in concern.

“..What?” He questioned, his Aussie accent slipping through. The thought of having his little girl at the track, in the midst of the roaring engines and flashing cameras, made him feel uneasy. It wasn’t the fact it was a race that concerned him but rather how unpredictable it is.

“Let’s take Sadie to the Grand Prix this weekend.” You repeated.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low. “It’s not exactly a calm environment. It’s loud, chaotic…”

You gently placed a hand on his arm, "I know, Oscar. But I think it would be good for her to see what you do, even if she’s too young to fully understand. It could be a special memory for us, and your Mum insists she comes with us for extra help."

Oscar’s grip tightened slightly on Sadie as he looked down at her peaceful face, her tiny hand curled around his thumb. “What if she gets scared? The noise alone could be overwhelming for her,” He murmured.

You leaned in closer, resting your head against his shoulder. “We’ll be right there with her. And she’ll have ear protection, and we’ll make sure she’s comfortable. Besides, she’ll be surrounded by people who love her, including your parents and sisters. It’ll be okay.”

Oscar didn’t seem convinced judging by his silence and expression on his face.

“Oscar, Sadie is a calm baby. Unusually calm.” You stated earning a small amused scoff, “Like how your Mum described you as a baby and kid kind of calm… without waking up screaming to be freed from the crib. She will be okay.”

Oscar sighed, feeling the weight of your words. You were right; Sadie was an unusually calm baby, a trait she no doubt inherited from him. But that didn’t stop the what-ifs from swirling around in his mind.

“Okay,” he said finally, his voice firmer now. “We’ll do it. We’ll take her to the Grand Prix.”

`· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑

Stepping into the Australian sun, the warmth envelops you like a blanket, its golden rays reflecting off the bustling excitement of the Australian Grand Prix.

“Sweetheart, do you have her-“

“Yes Oscar, I have her ear protection, I have her spare clothes just in case, and the baby bag is hanging on her stroller.” You reply with a amused smile at his questioning as we entered the paddock.

Oscar gave a relieved nod, looking over at Sadie in his arms who was taking in her new surroundings. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as you approached the McLaren garage.

The garage was abuzz with activity. Team members hurriedly prepared the cars, the unmistakable scent of gasoline and tire rubber filled the air, and mechanics shouted over the din of the crowd. Oscar's teammates and crew were working efficiently, their focus entirely on the task at hand.

As you reached the entrance to the McLaren garage, Oscar’s anxiety flared up again. “Do you think she’ll be okay in all this noise?” he asked, casting a worried glance at Sadie while he set her down, who seemed completely unfazed finding her balance.

“She’ll be fine, Oscar,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand. “Look at her. She’s curious, not scared. Besides, she’s got her daddy to protect her.”

Oscar smiled faintly at that, but the knots in his stomach refused to loosen. He glanced back at Sadie, who had wandered over to a stack of tires and was trying to peer around them. Every little movement she made seemed like a potential hazard in Oscar’s mind—what if she stumbled and hit her head? What if she got too close to something dangerous?

He quickly crossed the short distance to her, crouching down and gently steering her back toward the stroller. “Stay close, okay?” he said softly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

Sadie looked up at him with a small smile, her tiny hand gripping his finger as she babbled something incoherent. Oscar’s heart melted a little, but the tension remained.

You watched him, your heart aching for the way he was trying so hard to keep it together. “Oscar, she’s safe. I promise you-”

As if on cue, Sadie eyes lit up as she spotted the bright orange McLaren car. Oscar couldn’t help but smile at her reaction. It was the first time he’d seen her show interest in his world…. or really anything besides her family.

Yet, that moment didn’t last long.

Sadie, determined to explore, suddenly let go of Oscar’s hand and toddled off towards the car. Oscar’s heart skipped a beat as he scrambled after her, scooping her up just as she reached the edge of the garage. “No, no, no… not there.” he muttered, holding her close as he carried her back to the you and the relative safety of the stroller.

“She’s fast,” one of the mechanics chuckled, having witnessed the scene. “She’s like Verstappen on track!”

Oscar simply gave a embarrassed chuckle after his daughter’s attempts of adventure. Yet, Sadie’s terrorizing didn’t end there. As the day progressed, Oscar and you did your best to keep Sadie entertained and safe in the bustling environment of the McLaren garage in preparing for the race. Unfortunately, she seemed determined to explore every inch of the place, much to both of your guys’s dismay.

INSTANCE 1: TIRES

As Oscar tried to get a moment of calm in the garage, he put Sadie down for a quick break next to her stroller. He was just about to check in with his team when he heard a faint sound. Spinning around, he saw that Sadie had wriggled out of her stroller’s harness and was crawling towards a rack of tires.

Oscar’s heart raced as he dashed over, his eyes wide with panic. “That’s where we aren’t going, Missy.” he exclaimed, scooping her up just as she was about to pull herself up onto the stack. The tires wobble precariously, and Oscar’s breath caught in his throat. He held her tightly, his face pale as he glanced around to see if anyone had noticed his near disaster.

The surrounding mechanics, sensing his distress, quickly stepped in to stabilize the tires. One of them patted him on the back, “Seems to me she wants to be part of the pit crew already!”

“Maybe she’ll be the one changing your tires this race!” Another commented with a laugh.

Oscar forced a smile, but the worry lines on his forehead remained.

INSTANCE 2:

As Oscar prepared for the race, you took over watching Sadie, trying to keep her entertained while Oscar suited up. You were stationed near the McLaren garage entrance, making sure to keep a watchful eye on Sadie who was now sitting contentedly in her stroller—at least for the moment.

However, as you turned to chat with one of the team’s engineers, you heard a soft giggle followed by a rapid series of thumps. Turning quickly, you saw Sadie had somehow managed to wriggle out of her stroller again and was crawling towards a set of hydraulic jacks. The sight of her tiny fingers reaching out to touch the massive equipment made your heart skip a beat.

“Nu uh, little lady! We don’t touch that! No no.” you exclaimed, rushing over to her. But as you got closer, Sadie let out a giggle as you lifted her up into your arms.

“I’ve never seen a baby this eager to be with McLaren.” Charlotte smiled as she passed by. “Perhaps she should start working with me at communications to be with Oscar more often!”

You gave a slightly embarrassed laugh as you buckled her in, she reached out with a pout, clearly unhappy with being restrained. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we have to stay safe,” you murmured, brushing her hair back.

The rest of the crew chuckled at the spectacle, but you could see the worried look on Oscar’s face as he came out of his room, suited up in his gear. “Everything okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“Just a small adventure with the hydraulic jacks,” you said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “She’s fine now, but we might need to make sure all the escape routes are blocked off.”

Oscar gave a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Noted…”

INSTANCE 3: THE LANDO OVERTAKE

As the tension in the garage reached a peak with the race fast approaching, Sadie’s curiosity showed no signs of waning. Oscar, now fully suited up and mentally bracing himself for the race, was still visibly on edge.

In the midst of the frantic pre-race preparations, you found yourself trying to keep Sadie entertained while Oscar finished his final checks with the team. However, Sadie’s attempts to explore had escalated to a full-blown quest for adventure.

The McLaren garage was abuzz with activity, but you kept a close eye on Sadie, who had recently discovered the appeal of the large, colorful tire barriers. She was reaching out, her small fingers attempting to grasp anything within her reach. Just as you managed to corral her back to the stroller, a familiar voice came from behind you both.

“Oscar, mate you look like you’ve went to hell and back.” Lando chuckled, approaching with a sympathetic grin. His eyes quickly darted to Sadie, who was now fixated on the box of tools that a mechanic handed her just to keep her occupied.

Oscar, still visibly stressed, gave a exhale, resting his head on your shoulder. “Lando, you have no idea. She’s like a magnet for trouble today.”

Lando and Sadie have met before, back when she was just born in a hospital visit.

Lando’s gaze softened as he crouched down to Sadie’s level, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey there, Sadie. How’s it going, little lady? You’ve grown up quite a bit haven’t you?” he questioned, trying to capture her attention.

Sadie’s tiny head turned toward Lando, her eyes wide with interest with the new face for today. The sight of Lando’s playful demeanor seemed to break through her persistent determination. For a moment, she was entranced by his animated expressions and the sound of his voice.

She reached out towards him, her earlier determination to explore seemingly melting away in the face of his playful antics. Lando’s antics were enough to draw a genuine smile from her, and she even let out a small giggle, her tiny fingers grasping at his brightly colored McLaren cap.

Oscar, watching from a short distance, let out a relieved breath as he saw Sadie’s attention shift from her previous distractions. It was as if Lando had managed to temporarily derail her adventurous spirit with nothing more than charm and a few well-timed funny faces.

Needless to say, Oscar was astonished. He spent a handful of hours trying to stop her from even wandering off and all it took was a a small talk and a funny face?

“I…wha… how?!”

“Having a niece helps out a lot when it comes to kids, y’know.”

All that was left now was race time.

POST RACE

After all the chaos, Oscar achieved a solid P4 just behind Lando. Truely a race to remember compared to first race last year.

When he finally emerged from the car, the first thing he did was seek out you and his daughter. He was visibly relieved to find her in one piece, though she had managed to wriggle out of her stroller again and was now playing with the cap that Lando had given her.

Lando, who had been keeping an eye on Sadie during the race, gave Oscar a sympathetic grin. “You survived the race and the baby chaos. You’re a hero in my book.”

Oscar chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. He scooped Sadie up, finally able to relax. “Thanks, Lando. I think I need a nap after all this.”

As the team cleaned up and you all walked out of the garage, Sadie clinging to Oscar’s neck and half-asleep after all her terrorism she caused in the McLaren garage. Happily, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes but also a newfound contentment.

“We aren’t taking her to another race are we?” You questioned.

“Unless we got a baby leash like Kevin suggested? Hell no.” Oscar huffed out in response.

[jobean12-blog]

At First Sight

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (maybe he's a Mafia/Mob boss, maybe CEO- either way he's too delicious to ignore)

Word Count: 2,248

Summary: You're out to celebrate with friends when something unexpected happens.

Author's Note: We all know I love Mob/CEO Bucky and skirting that mystery line so you can use your imagination here! Honestly, if he approached me like this I'd just be putty in his hands haha 😏thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: flirting, Bucky is pretty forward, fun, drinking and mentions of alcohol but everyone is coherent and able to make clear choices, fingering, semi-public sex, curses

“I’m not sure…?”

You look between your two friends, Sadie, and Nia, and blink several times. “Too much?”

They look at each other then back at you.

“Definitely not!” Sadie squeals.

“And besides,” Nia adds, “the limo’s here. Too late to change!”

The space is dark, loud, and filled with moving bodies. You shove your way up to the bar and shout, “excuse me!” hoping to get the bartender’s attention.

With the music so turned up and so many other people slamming the bar, the bartender doesn’t even look in your direction.

“Heyyyy!” you shout with a slap on the bar.

“I’m not sure he heard you.”

At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, you look up at the man pressed close to you at the crowded bar.

He’s tall. And sexy. And gorgeous. And wearing a smirk that screams trouble…in the best way.

“Yelling won’t work doll,” the man says, motioning to the bartender. “It’s just too damn loud.”

You purse your lips as you try to think of a witty comeback but before you can he continues.

“But lucky for you, he’s my friend so I’ll help you order another round of those shots you seem to love.”

“How do you know what I love to drink?” you start, batting your lashes. “Maybe it’s a Whiskey neat.”

You lift your chin and smile sweetly, waiting for his reply.

“You’ve been ordering the same blue shots all night beautiful.”

Your mouth falls open to respond but nothing comes out.

Has he been watching you all night? Creepy or…amazing?

Instead, you stare and take in his features. Perfection.

The bartender comes over and looks at the man beside you expectantly.

“Three fingers of Whiskey, Steve and whatever the beautiful woman is having. She’s been waiting a bit.”

He turns to you, wearing a lopsided smile. “Will you be having Whiskey too?”

“I think I just might,” you tell your new friend.

“And how many fingers would you like doll?”

He watches you with an innocent expression as he spreads his long fingers out on the bar.

“Did you just…?” you stammer.

“Maybe just start with two,” he says.

A playful smile teases his lips, and you can’t help but stare at them.

“Fine, two fingers,” you say the bartender, “of whiskey…,” and then you give the man beside you a demure smile, “and more shots please.”  

“First time here?” the man asks, his gaze sweeping over you.

“How did you know?”

“I’d remember seeing you angel.”  

Even with his flirty forwardness you can’t seem to find anything that makes you uncomfortable. His eyes are friendly, and he’s standing close but not too close, just enough so you know he wants to be there to talk to you and only you.

You glance back to search for your friends but can’t find them anywhere.

“What are you celebrating tonight?” he asks when your eyes find his again.

“What makes you think I’m here celebrating anything?”

You raise an eyebrow and hold his stare.

“Do you ever just answer a question?” he counters.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth to stop your smile and fire back with, “do you ever stop asking questions?”

He laughs, the action lighting up his face and making his eyes crinkle flawlessly at the corners. It makes your stomach flutter.

You hold each other’s gaze for a beat before he continues.

“All the dancing and drinks…seems like a good time…a celebration.”

“Well, you’re right. My friend just got an amazing promotion at work.”

He smiles triumphantly and you smile back.

“So, there’s no chance you’ll be leaving here with me tonight.”

The bartender sets your drinks down in front of you just as your new eye candy finishes the sentence and you grab for your glass, downing as much as you can before you start to choke.

With a laugh the man takes a long and slow sip of his Whiskey, watching you. You put your half empty glass down on the bar with a dramatic bang and exhale.

“I…what? No!”

“That’s too bad,” he replies.

“You just met me,” you argue.

“And since the moment you walked in you’ve had my full attention,” he admits.

The shots seem to hit you all at once and you sway on your feet. He steadies you with a gentle but strong hand on your arm.

“Easy doll.”

“Ok…stop being so charming. The smiling and the touching… I like it way too much. It makes me want things…and we’ve only just met.”

“What kinds of things?” he asks, voice smooth like silk and deep.

You swallow hard and he tracks the movement of your throat before his eyes linger on your lips.

You gather up the shots for the girls. “We’re going to do these.”

He nods, slowly, his smile growing.

“So…um. I’ll see you later…?”

You wait, hoping he’ll give you his name.

“James, but you can call me Bucky.”

“Ok then, see you later Bucky.”

“I sure hope so angel.”

You find your friends at a table, catching their breath, and set down the shots.

“I met the hottest guy.”

Both friends pause with the drinks halfway to their mouths.

“What the hell are you doing here then?” Sadie asks.

“Girl’s night, we’re celebrating,” you say. “Duh.”

“Fuck that, go dance with the hot guy!” Nia shouts.

You lift your glass to your lips and shake your head. “No way, I’m here to dance with you all! Let’s go!”

You polish off the shot, wait for them to do the same then hold out your hands to pull them onto the dance floor.

The beat of the music surrounds you and you let go, forgetting routine and responsibility and just enjoying the moment.

Sadie yells something to you about the song that just started but you don’t quite catch it. Just behind her, set in the shadows off the side of the bar stands Bucky.

Your eyes meet and neither of you look away.

He doesn’t seem the least bit surprised to be caught staring at you. Every inch of your skin heats and when he lifts his glass, takes a sip, and smiles, you smile back…and start to move…just for him.

The hem of your dress inches higher as you lift your arms above your head, swaying your body to the rhythm of the music and getting lost in it. Your friends move closer and lean in.

“You’ve attracted an audience,” Sadie chuckles.

She whips her head to the side to point out the group of guys moving closer. You ignore the group and search the shadows for Bucky but he’s nowhere to be seen.

With unexpected disappointment you grab Sadie and tell her you need to use the ladies room, weaving your way though the crowd and off the dance floor. You follow the signs to the second floor, which is essentially a balcony overlooking the rest of the space.

After freshening up you walk out of the door and right into something hard. Bucky grips your biceps lightly, holding you close.

“You ok?” he asks.

You were standing close to him at the bar, but not this close, not close enough to smell his skin and feel the rise and fall of his chest. It makes you heady, but you manage a nod.

“Hi angel,” he smiles.

“Hi.”

“I was enjoying watching you dance.”

“I noticed.”

You hold his gaze, unable to look away. Down at the bar it was hard to tell the color of his eyes, but here, hidden away, even in the low light you can see they’re beautiful. The blue is like the ocean on a sparkling sunny day. Mesmerizing.

“Do you know what watching you does to me?”

You blink, trying your hardest to keep up with his directness.

He reaches down to take your hand, his grip loose and his movements tentative, waiting for you to tell him to stop.

When you don’t he presses it firmly to where he’s hard and aching.

“All this?” you ask in a breathy whisper. “Just from watching me?”

“Come home with me.”

You let out a little giggle.

“No. I can’t.”

“Come to my car then.”

“I’m not leaving this club with you.”

Even as you hear yourself say the words you know they aren’t holding the force you want them to.

He bends and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“But I’m dying to touch you.”

It’s impossible to pretend you don’t want the same thing and you place your palms on his chest and push him backward into the darkness.

“Is that a yes?” he asks as he runs a long finger over the curve of your shoulder.

“You aren’t some psycho are you?”

With a chuckle he moves closer, brushing his lips along your cheek. “You make me feel a bit crazy doll, but no, I’m not.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and tilt your head, whispering against his lips, “something tells me I can trust you.”

He moves willingly, and meets you with a smile, pressing his lips to yours.

“You taste as good as you look angel. What’s your name?”

“My name?” you whisper, so caught up in the feel of him you almost forgot.

“You know my name, so you’ll know what to call me when you’re about to come. It’s only fair I do the same.”

You let out a little gasp and hold onto his shoulders more tightly.

“I…,”

You feel his smile against your mouth before he turns you and presses your front to the edge of the balcony overlooking everything below.

He takes your chin between his fingers to turn your head and steal another kiss, lingering until you whisper your name against his lips.

With a satisfied smile his fingers tease the edge of your dress and then he lifts it, sliding his hands down between your legs to rub along your panties.

“You’re so wet. And all for me angel.”

You moan loudly when he slides a long finger inside you and presses a kiss to the back of your neck.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs into your ear as he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit.

You turn and look at him. His eyes are wide open and clear. He teases you more, watching your every reaction then turns you to face him and drags you against the wall, bending to kiss you, hard and hungry.

“Someone could come down here,” he reminds you, meeting your eyes, giving you one last out.

You don’t care. He’s too perfect. He feels too good.

When you don’t protest he kneels at your feet and carefully pushes up your dress, hooking his thumbs into your panties to slowly drag them down.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, standing and lifting your leg to spread you open.

Reaching between your bodies, you open his jeans and push them down along with his boxers. You grab for him, rubbing him through your arousal.

“Fuck doll, wait. I need to put this on.”

He reaches behind him and fumbles for the back pocket of his jeans, pulling a condom free.

“You’re big,” you whisper, loving the feel of his warm, silky skin.

His grin is wolfish. “That’s the best thing you could say to me.”

You run your closed hand along the length of him again, letting the tip just bump your clit.

“Fuck, keep that up and I’ll be coming all over your hand.”

His fingers are unsteady as he works to slip the condom on.

“Have you done this before?” you ask, unable to keep your eyes off his cock.

“Have sex with a beautiful woman in a public space?”

He starts to push into you, achingly slowly. “No angel, I’ve never done this before…but with you, I’ll take what I can get.”

His words die away when he’s fully inside you, rubbing against your clit with each stroke and filling you so completely. You grip his shoulders as his thrusts grow faster.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

He leans back and looks down between your bodies, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief second before he starts to move faster.

When he leans down to kiss you he slows his movements, pulling out almost all the way before sinking back in. The slow pace doesn’t last long, and he hitches your leg higher to go deeper.

You feel your release building in your stomach and it’s only a few seconds more before a cry falls from your parted lips.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps, his hips moving jaggedly and rough before he comes with a deep groan.

He leans heavily against you, pressing his lips to your neck. “You’ve wrecked me angel.”

His hand is gentle when it smooths along your leg, and he pulls out. You straighten your dress as he rolls off the condom.

“That was perfect Bucky,” you hum, meeting him for a kiss.

He nods, dazed. “You’re ok?”

“Better than ok,” you answer. “And I think I’m ready for another dance.”

His lips twitch with a surprised grin and you turn away before he can respond, leaving him standing with his pants still unbuttoned.

A few minutes later you find Sadie and Nia, both ready to head home. And it isn’t until you’re sitting in the quiet of the limo, reliving every second of what happened with Bucky, that you realize you’d left your panties on the floor at his feet.

[madwcman]

hi!! what about a best friends to lovers with tasm peter parker AND AND she thinks he likes someone else but he’s been whipped for her since FOREVER😋!! thanks a lot hehehe

a/n: let’s pretend this didn’t take me so long to answer, thank you for requesting!! enjoy ♡

pairing: tasm! peter x reader

“you’re avoiding me.” looking up from your phone, you see your best friend and now crush, peter parker. his arms folded over his chest, with a sour face.

“i don’t know what you mean pete.”

“liar.” and that you were. not only were you out hiding from him now, sitting in the bleachers of the football field. you’ve also been avoiding peter for the past two days after realizing you had a crush on him. which was an issue. not only was peter your best friend, but he also liked another girl. you thought she was better than you. not only was she smart but she was pretty. the perfect girl for peter.

“i’m not a liar, peter.” you sigh, looking back at your phone. avoiding peter’s eyes.

“you’re literally avoiding me right now!”

“i’m talking to you aren’t i?”

you hear peter huff as he sits down next to you. “you’re not even looking at me.”

you shrug him off. you’re not willing to answer him at the moment.

“what’s wrong, sweet girl?” peter questions, softly. he reaches for your hand.

“it’s nothing peter, i promise.” you mummer, as you put your phone away, looking straight out to the football field. still trying to avoid peter’s eyes. but you do hold his hand.

“you’re lying again.” at the moment you wonder if it’s his spidey senses that give you away or if peter truly knows you. you hope it’s the second option.

“can we just drop this?” you finally turn to look at peter. his boyish and charming smile, traded in for a small frown.

“no, my best friend has been avoiding me for the past two days!”

“i have not-“

“can you just tell me what’s wrong?!”

“Peter, i like you okay!” you yell out, taking your hand from peters. you tilt your face down, embarrassed. “i’ve been avoiding you because i know you don’t feel the same.”

it’s silent for a few seconds. but peter’s loud laugh breaks the uncomfortable silence. “are you laughing at me?” you ask, slightly confused, flabbergasted and a little offended.

“no!” he giggles, uncontrollably. you send him a glare. he’s being a little cruel, in your opinion.

your eyebrows furrow, as you push peter away from you. “you’re laughing!”

“i’m sorry, it’s just you’re so oblivious!”

“what?!” your voice raises, you can’t help but be slightly annoyed and defensive. you’re not oblivious.

“sweetheart, i’ve been in love with you since forever!”

oh, you’re shocked. you’ve never expected to hear those words from peter. “forever?”

“forever.” he shakes his head, as if to assure you.

“what about that girl you’ve been hanging out with?” voicing out your confusion, you couldn’t help but think of the beautiful and smart girl peter has been around lately.

“who, sadie?” you didn’t know her name. but you shake your head, assuming.

“sadie’s my lab partner. ”

“oh.”

“oh?” you feel slightly dumbfounded as peter eyebrow quirks up, questioning you. he’s simply curious. you have his full attention.

“i’ve been thinking you’ve liked her this whole time.” you admit, bashful. you can’t help but feel flustered while admitting this to peter.

peter can’t help but laugh again. this is comedy gold. he couldn’t love or cherish anyone as much as he does you. “oh, this is hilarious!”

“it’s not that funny!” you defend yourself, how could you have possibly known she was his lab partner!

“this whole time-“

“shut up.” you try and give your best intimidating glare. as he continues to laugh.

“we could have talked-“

“shut up!” you pushed him away, playfully. you try to conceal your smile, with peter it’s hard. you can’t help but smile around him.

peter scoots back over to you, warping his arms around you. “my poor sweet girl,”he mumbles into your hair. “you’re never allowed to avoid me again.” he states, before kissing the top of your head.

[lesbian-for-arthur-morgan]

Middle Class Lady Who has the Gang Sneak in Her Window

"The gang falling for a woman of a higher class and a father that doesn't approve of them so they usually sneak through their window to be together" @livingdeadgirly​

Genre: Fluff - some angst if you squint (Fem Reader uses she/her pronouns) Featuring: Arthur, John, Dutch, Javier, Charles, Sean, and Sadie Warnings: Mentions of guns, outlaw type of stuff

AN: I'm so sorry these took me forever to write! if some of them seem a little out of character please ignore it and pretend they aren't :D ---> Requests are open! Check out my guidelines if you have any questions

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Arthur Morgan:

Your father owned his own saloon which gave him an incredible insight into the type of men who frequented his establishment. He thought of this as a blessing once you started growing older and wishing to be courted, he could keep an ear out for anyone that he deemed unworthy for you.

Unsurprisingly, anyone who frequented the bar was not someone your father wanted anywhere near you. Especially when it came to an outlaw by the name of Arthur Morgan. The two of them had a long-standing feud (actually it was your father who hated Arthur and Arthur was too busy being infatuated with you to notice).

The first time Arthur was seen speaking to you in front of the saloon, your father came barreling through the doors to usher you inside. He instructed you to never speak to him again. Of course you didn’t listen.

Months go by and Arthur has made an extreme effort to get as close to you as he can without your father’s knowledge. The two of you will just so happen to go to the same general store at the same time every Friday by ‘accident’, you just so happen to run into him when you take your horse for a little trail ride to exercise, and every once in a while you both somehow end up behind the theater at on show nights by some strange chance of fate.

After a while, you’re so sick of having to keep your interactions short and sweet and secret in the public eye (lest anyone witness it and run off to tattle to your father). You write a quick letter to Arthur one day asking him to meet you at the side of your house at midnight.

When he gets there and you’re nowhere to be found he’s beyond confused; it’s not until he hears a sharp whistle and looks up to see you waving at him from your second story window that he understands your plan.

“The things I do for you, woman.” He grumbles with a smile and begins hoisting himself up the tree conveniently located right by the window.

You’ve already got the window open as he reaches the top and you begin helping him crawl inside. Now Arthur is a large, bulky man he isn’t exactly as nimble as he might have been once upon a time. You can barely contain your giggles as he lumbers into the room ungracefully and nearly face-plants into the rug on your floor.

“I ain’t had to do this since I was a boy,” He smiles down at you once he steadies himself as you grin up at him widely.

“You’re still young enough to climb through a lady’s window yet, Mr. Morgan.” You tease.

It’s the first time the two of you have ever truly been alone since you met and the tension in the air is palpable. Arthur looks between you and your carefully cleaned and decorated bedroom, then down at his dirty boots on your rug and worn denim pants. He was the complete opposite of you - he didn’t deserve to ruin your space with his grimy life and clothes.

“What you thinking about, Cowboy?” You place a hand on his cheek and turn his head to make him look back at you. He’d confess a few of his doubts, not trusting himself to tell you that he doesn’t deserve you flatout, and you’d shake your head and lead him over to your bed and have him sit down.

You’d kiss him and quiet his thoughts, allowing your actions to say more than words ever could and from that moment on he’d find himself climbing up a tree every other night.

Your father didn’t figure it out ever, even though Arthur and you were hardly ever quiet.

John Marston:

You were the most beautiful person that John had ever seen in his entire life. You were walking in the middle of town with some man nearly twice your age and John figured you were married to him - some lady victim to a man with money and a ring.

John fantasized about swooping you into his arms and saving you from a life of excruciating monotony. He’d tell the old man to kick the bucket, maybe rob him of whatever cash and valuables he had on him, and let you live your life free with him.

When he overheard you refer to the man as your father John felt absolutely giddy. He took his hat off and tried to smooth his hair down as he moved to approach you and introduce himself.

Your father watched the outlaw walk up to the two of you with a skeptical eye. He was hoping the cowboy would walk past you, but he stopped right before you and held out his hand to you. “John Marston, Miss….?” He prompted.

Your father shut it down immediately. He was so incredibly unamused that he stepped between you and John and shoved his arm down. He told John to basically get lost, but John ignored him and kept his eyes on you.

It was like love at first sight.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his and couldn’t hide the growing blush that heated your cheeks as he ever-so-slightly smiled at you. A small smile that disappeared as your father demanded his attention.

“Now son you get out of here before I get angry. I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter, you got that?”

John wanted to laugh at his vague threat. Who did this guy think he was? John put both hands up to show he meant no harm and took a few steps back.

“Didn’t mean nothing by it, sir,” He shrugged, “Was just being friendly.”

Your father scoffed saying he didn’t want any of John’s kindness and neither would you. You caught John’s eye while your father was speaking and mouthed ‘sorry’ with a sweet smile.

John was smitten immediately. He may seem like a big tough outlaw, but the guy is secretly a huge soft romantic. He was already envisioning your wedding and the type of house you two would build together in the middle of the prairie where no one would bother you and you could leave your respective lives.

He may have been getting ahead of himself.

Your father dragged you away and into the general store, John went off to finish a few more errands. He didn’t think he’d actually ever see you again until the moment he went back to his horse to ride back to camp.

He felt a quick tap on his shoulder and there you were looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

From that moment on the two of you had to meet in secret - away from the watchful eye of your father. John took to sneaking in your bedroom anytime he got the inclination to see you (which was a daily occurrence tbh).

He’d take a stroll around the house to make sure your father’s room lights were off and see if yours were on and you were still awake. Due to his frequent visits, you were always up late waiting for him to call on you.

It was all fun and games until he’s waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to climb back out of your window before your father woke up to find him lounging in your bed. That would be a messy scene.

Dutch Van Der Linde:

Dutch thought he was too old to have to worry about meeting parents and getting the approval to see the lady he fancied. He was an old dog; he liked younger women of course but never the type who were of a higher social standing than him and needed that.

Then he met you.

You swooped into his life with your pretty dresses and sweet words and you didn’t want him at all at first. It made him want you even more.

It’s no secret that rich men are corrupt and willing to meet with anyone to make a quick buck. Your father met with Dutch to provide some intel about a train full of valuables and treasures that were interesting to both parties involved. Your dad wanted a cut of what was on that train provided the Van Der Linde gang robbed it.

Your father wasn’t a good man. He enjoyed money a little too much, and saw you as property more than his daughter. He was overprotective of you - to the point that he refused to ever let you out of his sight for even a second.

You went to every meeting between the two men and at first didn’t give a damn about Dutch. You thought he was handsome, but not the type of man you’d ever be interested in. Not until your father warned you to stay away from men like that.

He even went so far as to comment that he didn’t like the way Dutch looked at you. It fueled something inside of you. The idea of rebelling in such a way. Dutch was attractive, he had money, an exciting life, and most of all it would piss your father off if you courted the gang leader.

The next time there was a meeting between the three of you, you bat your eyelashes and laughed at Dutch’s jokes a little too hard.

Dutch bid you farewell by kissing the knuckles on your hand, and you loved the way your father basically had smoke coming out his ears at the action.

Your father didn’t bring you with him the next time he went to a meeting with Dutch. He locked you in your room, and only unlocked the door to check on you before bed that night.

You were pouting and writing a long sob-story in your diary when you heard a soft tap on the glass of your window.

You pulled back your blinds to see Dutch crouching in the dirt by your window with a wicked grin on his face.

“Can I come in, Darlin’?” He cooed with a sweet voice. You opened your window immediately and he ducked through the frame.

“You didn’t come with your father today, he said you didn’t want to attend the meetings anymore.”

You explain that you’ve basically been kept a prisoner in your room all day since your dad was convinced Dutch was trying to steal you away from him. You grumble out a few curse words after you explain and roll your eyes.

“What if I am tryin’ to steal you away?” Dutch whispered, his eyes dark and sparkling in the lamp light. You didn’t realize how pretty he was.

You bite your lip and smile, trying to keep on a tough act at his words. It’s no use, though. He’s charming, it’s why he is who he is.

“Maybe I’d let you,” You reply in a sultry low tone.

That’s all Dutch needed to hear. He helped you pack a small bag of items to bring with you and he brought you back to the camp where the gang was staying.

On your bed, you left a note telling your father you were running off with a man. Shortly after that Dutch mailed out a post saying he didn’t want to do business with your father anymore. It was all settled.

He stole you away to join him at camp, and that’s where you stayed.

Javier Escuella:

You met Javier by chance one night when you were being harassed by a local lawman after a night out at the theater. Javier rushed to the alley when he heard your shouts ordering the man to stay away from you.

Javier saw red and let his instincts take over him. He grabbed the man by the collar of his very nice shirt and used it to throw him to the mud.

“The lady asked you nicely to leave her alone. Now, I won’t be so nice if I have to ask. So, tell me, do I have to be the one to request you leave her alone?”

The man scrambled in the mud, splattering it on his dress pants and coat, as he picked himself up and ran away.

Javier introduced himself and offered to walk you home. You were a little wary of him at first, what with the guns at his belt and the knife at his thigh, but he assured you that he was not a threat. He just didn’t want you risking getting harassed again on your journey to your house.

You took him up on his offer and as he dropped you off at your front door you gave him a quick, shy peck on the cheek and asked if he wouldn’t mind coming to visit again in the future.

Javier is a blushing bumbling mess but somehow finds the words to agree and see you again later on in the week.

From that point on, this man spoils you in every possible way. He brings you flowers, fine pelts, jewelry (don’t ask where he got it), and little poems he writes or likes just so that you have a little piece of his heart.

Does your father care about all of that? No. He just cares about Javier’s status as an outlaw, a killer. He’s heard the rumors about the Van Der Linde Gang and he refuses to allow one of the members anywhere near you.

Javier is willing to do anything to see you, though.

You started leaving your windows perched open during the warm summer nights, and a low whistle alerted you to a person sitting right outside the glass. Your curtains were fluttering slightly with the wind and so all you saw was the shadow of a figure causing your mind to think of the worst scenarios possible.

You drew a knife from your vanity and clasped it in your hand ready to call for your father, but you heard a familiar voice lowly call out.

“Mi amor?”

You let out a sigh of relief and pulled the curtains back fully to see Javier smiling at you with a bouquet of wild flowers in his hands. “I wanted to see you and I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You asked him to wait outside while you barricaded your bedroom door with a stool, then opened the window wider for him to duck inside.

At first he didn’t really know what to do with himself, he planned to give you the flowers and have a quick kiss before needing to leave -  he did not expect you to usher him inside.

You took the flowers from his hands and placed them on your dresser next to the box of trinkets and gifts Javier has given you before.

You sit on your bed and make a spot for him to sit beside you. He isn’t really sure what the gentlemanly thing to do is in that situation, but just to be safe he sits on the floor by your feet. He’s gazing up at you as if you were the moon itself and doesn’t even try to hide the way his breathing quickens every time your eyes meet.

It becomes routine for him to visit you nearly every night and wait for you to barricade your door before allowing him in. Eventually he gets more comfortable and feels better about sitting next to you on your bed - though he knows it was not the proper thing to do.

He really wanted to court you the proper way, but with your father being so hesitant to know him outside of his status he had to be a little lenient on conventional courting methods.

Charles Smith:

Charles has been sneaking into your room for years.

You were childhood sweethearts, but your father had hated the relationship from the moment you expressed any sort of soft feelings for the boy.

When he first started sneaking in, it was just because your father didn’t want you to be friends. You and Charles were inseparable, so he’d sneak in when he could to read your books and play with your toys while your father was at work.

As you grew older, your feelings grew too.

You developed a strong crush on Charles and he was completely oblivious to it. At first, since you didn’t know how to express your feelings, you pushed him away and told him to stop visiting you.

Charles was crushed when you essentially told him to get lost. He couldn’t understand what caused your change of heart - he figured maybe your father had finally gotten to you and you realized you were too rich, too pretty to be his friend.

Charles stopped climbing through your bedroom windows and started only seeing you in public spaces or whenever you took your horse out for a ride.

Eventually, though, even those interactions dwindled and Charles stopped seeing you altogether.

It broke you when you didn’t speak with Charles anymore. You thought it better that way. He couldn’t find out your feelings for him - especially since you were certain he didn’t feel the same way.

Years go by, you stop seeing Charles even in fleeting moments. You heard he ran off and was living alone in the wilderness.

It was your fault, you thought. You pushed him away during his time of need and now there was no way of knowing what became of him. Whether he was alive or dead.

You grow older, your heart growing cold and calloused, and you never really recovered from the hurt you put yourself through.

One night, you’re a passenger on a train taking you deeper into the west of America when there was a loud commotion at one end of the passenger car you were in.

You put down your novel and see a group of masked men with weapons demanding valuables from every patron they pass by. They were slowly moving down the aisle, approaching where you were sitting at an alarmingly fast pace. You couldn’t think of a way out of the situation without giving away every last bit of money you had on you.

That is, until one of the masked men gets to you and instead of the harsh demands and pointed threats you expected to hear, you hear your name being whispered softly.

You look up, skin ablaze with fear and eyes watering. Through your tears you can see a familiar set of dark brown eyes peering down at you as if you were a ghost.

“Ch…Charles?” You squint. You questioned if it was just a mirage, a trick of your brain due to fear, but there was no doubting it. Those were Charles’ eyes.

He softly grabbed you by the arm and helped you out of your seat.

“Come with me,” He whispered as he pushed you through the aisle towards the exit. “I promise nothing will happen to you.”

It was stupid, but you blindly agreed as he led you out of the train and onto the dusty earth.

Charles and you caught up as the rest of his posse finished robbing the passengers of the train. You learned that he had been taken in by the Van Der Linde gang and was making a living as an outlaw. After seeing what you did on the train, that part of his story checked out.

You caught up with him as well, you informed him of your father’s fate and how his will left everything to you. How you regretted pushing him away as a teenager and how you wished he could forgive you.

“I never even hated you for it,” He said softly, “There is nothing to forgive, it’s how the world is sometimes. Cruel.”

You tried to explain your feelings at the time, but the embarrassment of it never let you fully explain.

Charles offered to take you home, but you wanted nothing more than to continue catching up with him and learning about his new life, his new family. Charles took you back to camp, and you ended up staying there with him for a few weeks. (For a fee of course, as Dutch had so cleverly thought up)

Your feelings for Charles rose to the surface once again, and you weren’t sure when or if there would ever be a time to explain how madly in love with him you were.

Sean MacGuire:

The first time y’all met was when he was sneaking through your window late one night.

Dutch had given Sean a vague plan about robbing a local lawmaker’s house while the man was scheduled to be two towns over for some political business. Dutch figured it would be a quiet, simple mission to grab some extra loot and not worry about being caught.

Sean paced around your house a few times after midnight the day your father left, and when he didn’t see any lights on or movements he figured it was safe to go in.

He checked a few key points of entry, but the windows on the ground-floor were locked and he didn’t want to risk leaving any evidence of there being a break-in for when the lawmaker came back.

Sean noticed that a window on the second floor was open the tiniest sliver, he’d be able to use a dagger to wedge it open wide enough to slip his hand in and open it fully.

He climbed up some vines growing on the side of the wood paneling and pulled his dagger to wedge it open. Once he got himself inside, he turned towards the window to close it.

His entire body stiffened when he heard the metallic click of a pistol being cocked from behind him.

“Now I’ll only say this one time, Mister, you need to get outta here before I blow a hole in you and make a mess all over these clean floors.” The threat was serious, Sean knew that, but he couldn’t help but perk up at the sweet sound of your voice as you told him you were going to shoot him if he didn’t leave.

He put his hands up, dropping the dagger he had, and turned to face you slowly. The house was dark. Shadows danced across your face and shielded your eyes making you look lethal with the gun pointed at his chest. Sean thought you were beautiful.

“I mean no harm, Miss. Just business ‘s all,” Sean gave you a toothy smile which only made you narrow your eyes.

You told him you were going to give him one chance to leave and he’d only stay if he had a death wish.

Sean wanted nothing more than to stay with you and use whatever methods he could to woo you, but he was familiar with the look in your eyes and the tone of your voice. He was scheduled to meet the gods above if he didn’t slip back out that window and into the night.

After he left, he was already planning the ways he could meet you again - under more favorable circumstances of course. He decided to visit you the next day with a peace offering and a smile.

Once dawn broke over the horizon, painting the world in a golden orange light, Sean was already up and out of camp heading to your large house on the hill.

He knocked on the door and you answered after a few minutes. Your hair was messy from sleep and your nightgown was covered by a long robe that was hastily thrown on to save your modesty.

“What the hell?” You grumbled and looked at Sean as if he had grown three heads. “Either you are the stupidest man on the planet for comin’ back here, or you truly do have a death wish. If it’s the latter give me a second to grab the gun.”

Sean was in love immediately.

“I wanted to apologize for last night. I never woulda thought ‘bout stealing from a man with such a pretty woman living under his roof.” He handed you a small box saying that it was a piece offering. Inside was a large silver coin and a note that said ‘thanks for not shooting me’.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, but pocketed the coin and note nonetheless. You invited him in, but warned him any funny business would not end favorably for him. He only shot you a coy smile and promised that he was only coming as a gentleman, not an outlaw.

The two of you grew as friends at first but once things seemed to grow more romantic, you had to start sneaking around and avoiding your father finding out about the relationship and how it started.

Sean was glad he got the practice sneaking in your window that first night, though, because it was common practice while the two of you had to keep your romantic relations a secret.

Sadie Adler:

Sadie was a shell of herself when you met her.

She was still mourning the loss of her husband and trying to become accustomed to her new life as a member of the Van Der Linde Gang when you stumbled into her one day.

She was just starting to get back on her feet and was at the tailors in town when you strolled in with your fancy clothes and styled hair.

She wasn’t intimidated per say, but she felt a little inadequate in comparison. What with her ragged hand-me-downs from Miss Grimshaw and her few coins that she saved to buy a new linen shirt - you were like royalty compared to her.

You approached her first at the tailors. You asked if she had been in town long as you didn’t recognize her, where she came from, where her husband was (assuming she was married). Sadie didn’t know how to answer all the questions you threw in her direction.

You broke down her walls, though. You bought the shirt that she wanted and even invited her to tea with you at your house to talk about what had been plaguing her the last few weeks.

She didn’t want it to help, but Sadie could physically feel the relief flood her chest as she stopped holding on to her emotions and let them flow freely. A friendship between the two of you grew quickly and rapidly.

Then, it grew to be a little more.

Sadie had been working on jobs with Arthur and gaining her confidence back. In doing so, she finally got the nerve to kiss you goodbye one night when she was getting ready to go back to camp.

She gazed at you nervously after she did it. She couldn’t figure out what your expression meant - whether she went too far, or if you even liked her back in that way.

Tears slipped from your eyes as you looked up at her and grabbed her cheeks, shoving your lips against hers. Her kiss was sweet and gentle, but yours was aggressive and needy. You didn’t realize she felt the same way about you, and knowing that she did created a swell in your heart that never went away.

After your first kiss, you had to keep your relationship on the downlow. Your father knew that the two of you were friends (he hardly liked even that), if he found out that y’all were girlfriends he would separate you for good.

Sadie came up with the plan to visit you during the day as a good honest lady of society, but at night she would climb up through your window to enjoy spending time with you as a partner instead.

Friend by day, girlfriend by night.

Sadie slipped through your window every other night, quieter than a shadow when she came in. Sometimes you’d turn around and she would just be getting in and it would make you squeak a little as it startled you.

She kissed you to keep you quiet when that happened, though (teehee)

Sadie would spend hours with you at night. You’d help her brush her hair when there were missions she was on that took days and she wasn’t able to care for her locks. You’d let her borrow your nightgowns if she ever wanted to stay and relax in your bed until dawn.

The two of you would hold each other and talk until the mourning doves sang their melancholy songs in the early hours of the morning.

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[yeeterthek33per]

I want to hear you say it (Zećira Mušović x Reader)

A/n requested

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, jealous Z, unwanted flirtations. Terrible swedish translations.

As if today couldn’t have gotten any worse, it felt like a major kick in the stomach when you were forcibly dragged away from your own car after training and shoved into the back of Sam’s for team social night. 

It had started off with you nearly not waking up to your third and final alarm of the day leaving you running into training late, much to the annoyance of Emma and the girls who had to join you in sprints this morning.

After that rough start to training, you were then volunteered to introduce the new girl to the rest of the team, a young twenty-something fresh out of the Chelsea grassroots academy.

She was nice but a bit overbearing, practically hanging off you for the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, this left you with little time to spend with your favourite person.

-

Zećira, much like yourself, was ridiculously grumpy all training. Normally she’d have you to herself for most of it. 

Of course, being a striker and a goalkeeper, you had separate sessions to each other, but the warmups are generally intermingled.

So, when you had paired up for drills, you were the first person to grab her, just about growling at anyone who tried to pair up with her instead of you.

That said, the new kid, Sally?

She doesn’t really remember, nor care…

To be fair, she’d been latched onto you like a leech the whole time. It was obnoxious the number of times she was verbally and physically throwing herself at you.

Zećira could ignore it most of the time, given she had to focus on her own drills with the others, but she couldn’t miss the tone of Sadie’s voice every time she came within hearing distance of you both.

It was a sickly-sweet tone with heavy undertones, and it annoyed the Swedish woman to no end.

Regardless, even if it was annoying her, you looked like you’d been completely oblivious to the most obnoxiously obvious flirtations Sarah sent your way.

That’s what frustrated her the most, your ignorance of the situation at hand and the way you let the twenty-two-year-old cling to you like that.

Now that you’re in the bar, Zećira is watching as Summer leans uncomfortably close to you, hand grazing your arm as she animatedly asks you question after question about your life and what it’s like on the senior team.

You don't step away from it, not really, although, it seems, even you have your friendly limits.

The goalkeeper feels her chest start to heat up with the familiar low burn of jealousy.

A cough from across the table catches her attention.

“Zee, the staring isn’t subtle.”

There’s a raised brow on Niamh’s face as she glances back and forth between you and the goalkeeper with a small smirk.

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

“Even if that’s the case, the poor newbie over there is definitely feeling your laser glare right about now.”

Zećira’s glare moves to the Canadian across from her.

“Good, I hope so.”

Both of them let out a small snort at the Swede, nudging her shin when she turns back to you, making her look away again.

“What?”

“For the love of god, just tell her, she’s definitely not into flirty pants over there, and you have the best chance out of literally anyone here.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about. You pair are crazy.”

The pair groaned and just shoved the goalkeeper away from the table and out of her seat.

“Go save the poor woman, at least. If you won’t acknowledge your blatantly obvious love for our Striker, the least you can do is pull McFlirt over there off her."

-

“Oh my god, you’re so right!”

Savannah’s voice was getting a little grating in your ears now.

Flinching away at the loudness of the laugh so close to your ear, you cover it up with a signal to the bartender to bring you another glass of Vodka Soda, given you weren’t driving now anyway and the trainers weren’t here to scold you for drinking midseason.

“So- “

A soft throat clearing from just behind your shoulder makes the newbie in front of you jump a little out of her focus on you.

The warmth radiating from Zećira with how close she’s standing to you makes you relax back into the goalkeeper but also lightly shiver with the proximity.

“Oh... hi. You’re Zekira, right?”

You look up slightly at the raven-haired woman just in time to see her eye twitch slightly at the pronunciation.

“It’s Zećira actually.”

“Of course, right.”

There’s a small, awkward silence before Zećira clears her throat again.

“So Selena-“

“It’s Savannah.”

“Right, I think Niamh and Jessie were looking to talk to you.”

The blonde lights up suddenly at the mention of the two, to which when she makes eye contact with them as they look towards the suddenly excited new girl, they glare back at her when she smirks at them.

Once the girl disappears to go find the Canadian and English friends, Zećira turns to you with a small smile that you gratefully reciprocate.

Leaning back into the taller woman, you offer her the seat now free in front of you next to the bar but she shakes her head, instead gently grabbing your hand, leading you towards the outdoor area of the bar, settling in by one of the heaters.

It’s not a particularly cold night, but it’s just chilly enough to have a reasonable excuse to tuck yourself under her arm and lean your head on her shoulder.

It was silent now, but not like before.

The quiet was a welcome one, and it was quite common between you.

Zećira was your favourite person for the same reason you were hers.

Not that either of you really knew that.

You were both quiet people. You enjoyed the company of the rarely brooding but often times peacefully listening goalkeeper.

If you’d needed to rant, she’s always been an open ear for you.

If you needed a hug, she’s right there to give the warmest, tightest, sweetest hug you’ve ever had. They’d send tingles down your spine, and her hands are always sure on your lower back as your arms wrap around her neck.

The smell of her shampoo leaves you feeling slightly dizzy when you’d bury your face there after long and tiring days.

Her hand would settle on your knee comfortingly when you curl up beside her while binging tv shows after every one of your breakups.

Her overall presence keeps you going day to day.

Despite that. You were only friends.

Good friends, but friends nonetheless.

Right?

“Hey, I have to pee, I’ll be right back.”

Zećira hums softly and lifts her arm to let you out of the booth again.

Making your way over to the bathroom, you do your business, and as you're washing your hands to touch up, the door creaks open behind you, and you lift your head to look at them.

It’s Savannah.

“Oh hey, I was looking for you, I was wondering if maybe we could, you know, hang out some time?”

“Like to practise and stuff?”

“Well, I mean more like, come to dinner with me.”

Oh.

Right as you’re about to answer with a soft no to let her down easy, the door opens behind her and Zećira walks in, looks slowly between the two of you before slipping into a stall herself.

There's a small awkward silence now as you shift uncomfortably under the stare of her.

“Look, as nice as you are, I’m not interested in dating right now. And you're far younger than me, I'm sorry but I'm just not interested.”

“At least give me a chance to- “

Zećira steps out of the stall at that exact moment, moving to the sinks.

“Look, kid, she said no, maybe take that as an answer instead of embarrassing yourself further, alright?”

She punctuates it with little flicks of water at the sink after washing her hands.

Savannah’s face turns bright red, and she mumbles a quiet apology and ducks out of the door swiftly.

You turn to the Swedish woman with a raised brow.

“What’s up with you, grumpy?”

She feigns confusion and looks at you funny, moving to dry her hands on some paper towel.

“What are you talking about?”

“You never get that snappy with anyone, even the persistent ones.”

Zećira steels her expression lightly but stays quiet.

“Zee…?”

It catches you off guard when she steps forward, hands grabbing your waist to walk you back into the wall.

The small “oof” you let out echoes in the small dimly lit bathroom, and your cheeks flush as her grip tightens on you.

“Zee… what are you- “

At that, she swiftly leans down to capture your lips with her own. A small gasp leaves your mouth but is quickly smothered, and one hand reaches up to grip the back of her neck while the other rests on her cheek.

The more your lips move together, the more antsy you get, and you nip at her lower lip slightly as she pulls back to take a breather.

Her lips are slightly swollen, and you can’t imagine yours aren’t the same.

With flushed cheeks, she dips back into you again, this time, though, her hands grip the underside of your thighs and lift you up onto the counter with a small squeak erupting from your lips.

“Zee, we’re gonna get caught -"

“So let them, even better if it’s that little-“

With a soft shake of your head, you pull her back in again to shut her up.

It’s a softer, slower kiss this time, one that she takes her time pulling away from.

With slow abated breaths, you move your other hand to cup the other side of her face.

“If you’re gonna kiss me like that in a bathroom, give a girl a warning first.”

Zećira blushes harder this time and almost pulls away out of fear of rejection, but you quickly tighten your legs around her waist, holding her to you.

“Something you wanna tell me, Zee?”

The small, curious, and teasing smile on your lips makes her stop.

Though, there must be something in your eyes at that point because she relaxes against you, hands moving back to grip your thighs again.

“Can I tell you later, because you and I both know what’s gonna come out of my mouth next and I really want to keep kissing you.”

A finger on her lips stops her from leaning down again and you raise a brow giggling softly.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Du betyder allt för mig.” (You mean everything to me)

Your heart races. You knew Swedish enough to understand what she just said, and it completely catches you off guard.

But you release a shaky breath and let your hand fall onto the back of her neck again.

“Inte vad jag förväntade mig....” (Not what I expected)

She stops for a second. You continue.

“But it’s what I needed to hear.”

Her breath hitches at that, and you tug her down again, her hands tightening their grasp, nails digging slightly into your skin, leaving you keening into her.

At the noise escaping from the back of your throat, she slips them up to ride under your shirt, tracing a small path into the skin beneath the fabric.

You make a half attempt to pull her closer yet, pressing yourself right to her, hips rocking into her softly.

She groans at the way your nails dig into her shoulders when she trails kisses down the side of your jawline, tracing a line straight down to the junction of your neck and shoulder.

Tilting your head to give her more access, your breathing becomes more ragged, and your eyes flutter shut as her teeth take the skin there and tug lightly, her lips soothing the ministrations behind them.

Shifting to give herself a little space, her fingers move to swiftly unbutton the fabric currently standing in her way and with a soft growl, she finally tugs it open, head dropping to press kisses to your collarbone, nipping occasionally.

“Fuck.”

You breathe out when Zećira’s fingers dip below the waistline of your slacks, half tugging at them.

“Off.”

The commanding tone is firm but a little breathless as she pulls back to look you dead in the eye.

Letting out a soft pleading whine, you obediently lift your hips to let her tug them down along with your underwear at the same time, leaving you bare to the cool air, to which you shiver slightly.

A slight brush of her fingertips on your clit is enough to have you whimpering into her mouth.

You’ve never been this sensitive to someone’s touch but there’s something about the taller woman in front of you now, teeth digging into your lower lip, fingers still teasing you, that has you losing your mind on a public bathroom counter.

“Please.”

It’s a soft, keening whine, but it makes her chuckle, and she hushes you, thumb coming up to tug at your lip before her other hand finally applies enough pressure to your clit to have you bucking up into her hand.

“So wet for me already, Princesse.”

There’s a small tone of surprise behind it, and you nod at her, guiding her hand down lower with small encouraging whispers of “Please baby. I need you.”

She traces small circles around your clit for a moment and slowly dips her index and middle finger down, working them into you from the awkward angle of the sink.

She uses her hand to muffle your moans before they become too loud and starts thrusting at a fast pace, fingers bending at the right spot, leaving you a moaning mess embarrassingly quickly, completely at her mercy as she fucks you.

Her wrist moves her thrusts into you a bit harder, and you have to fight not to moan any loader lest someone catch you like you’d been fearing this whole time.

When she ducks her head down to mouth at the skin of your collarbone again, you know you’re a goner. 

A whimpering, keening, moaning mess.

The fact she’s got you this close this fast has you a little concerned for your own stamina, but it’s wiped from your mind the moment her lips are on yours again.

Hearing you moaning like this for her only makes her double her efforts, fingers tapping your g-spot with renewed vigour, and it throws you close to the edge swiftly.

You can feel your legs start to tremble a little, and she can feel you tighten around her, her thrusts meeting a little more resistance now.

“That’s it, älskling.”

The soft praise only spurs you on and your hips lift to meet her thrusts and it takes but a few brushes of her thumb on your clit to send you over.

Thighs twitching, legs tightening around the goalkeepers hips as your back arches into her.

She’s muttering sweet nothings to you as you come down, soft muttered "you're so beautiful"'s and "Good girl"'s.

If you weren't already mid orgasm, that in itself would have sent you over.

“My sweet, beautiful girl.”

There’s a slight whine in your throat when her thumb moves against your clit a little, still sensitive from your orgasm just mere seconds ago.

“Zee.”

It’s a soft, breathy whine, and she smiles, removing her hand slowly and taking your lips with hers again.

“I love hearing my name on your lips, I need to hear it more, back to my place?”

You nod swiftly, letting her guide your underwear and pants back up, the haze of an orgasm still very much on your mind.

On shaky legs, you clean up a little, settling the sex-mussed hair on both of you and attempting, albeit failing, to cover up all of the marks left on your neck with her jacket which she settles around your shoulders after you shiver a little when you step out of the bathroom.

Thankfully, the bathroom is around a corner from where your teammates are tucked away in a set of booths so you both wave at them from a distance as you exit the bar, ignoring the looks you get from them.

Zećira guides you down the concrete sidewalk towards her car in the small parking lot beside the building.

-

Zećira can hardly focus on getting her keys in the lock with you nipping at her collarbone the way you are. That and your hands have slipped under the fabric of her button-up shirt to gently scratch at the skin of her abs.

“Älskling, please, need a second to get the door open.”

You feign innocence, a small pout on your lips, but they quirk up a little at her while she shakes her head lightly at the cheeky expression on your face.

Slipping your hands further up, she whines when you cup her through her bra, hands cold against her skin.

She curses the key in her hand when she finally gets the door unlocked, dragging you inside by the collar to slam you against it.

"Couldn't behave for one second to get us inside, could you?"

Chuckling, you tug her closer by the belt loops.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

She rolls her eyes.

"I'm sure you don't."

Following swiftly with that, her knee presses between your legs, hands fully unbottoning and removing your shirt now, tossing it to the side.

"Eager?"

The smug grin on your face has her a little flustered, but she raises a brow down at you.

"I've finally got you here to myself, I'm not wasting anymore time getting you in my bed."

You chuckle softly, hands grabbing hers to steady them before pulling off and throwing her jacket to the side, hands tugging at her button-up to slowly remove it, softly grazing the skin of her shoulders as you push it off.

"We have all the time in the world, Baby. I'm not going anywhere."

She softens, and her hands grasp yours, gently tugging you down the hall to her bedroom, walking half turned towards you, eyes locked on yours.

"I'm right here, Zee. I'm all yours."

The soft reassurance has the last of her nerves settling once again, making way for the sweet, charming Zećira you know and love.

The shakiness in her limbs disappears altogether, making it easier for her to pull you back into her, hands settling on your hips, and she kisses you.

You lean up into it, pushing back as she applies a little more force into it, letting it fall naturally heavier with every move, nip, and caress.

A warmth starts to settle back into your stomach, and you nudge her towards the bed, to which she flips you back onto the mattress, hovering over you.

It's in slow movements, met with kissing you all the way back until your head hits the pillows.

You're craving her warmth a little more, so you tug the swede down onto you rather forcefully, leaving little room for argument as her hand slips under your shirt to grip at your chest, kneading the soft flesh there with a small sigh.

A whine slips out from the back of your throat when her fingers roll your nipple between them, pinching and tugging at the skin gently.

The taller woman pushes herself up slightly, kneeling, and pulls you up with her.

Soft, tender hands move to the buttons of your shirt, move, and undo each one slowly until reaches the bottom one, to which her two fingers under your chin bring your gaze back up to meet hers.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart."

You just about melt under the slowly darkening gaze of the woman.

The single flick of her fingers to unclip your bra and throw it to meet the discarded shirt has your mind nearly turned to mush right there.

With a soft muttered, "So beautiful."

She's swift to kiss you and push you back into the pillow, resuming her previous actions.

The cool air in the room does little to sate the heat taking over your skin, everywhere she touches, feels like a small fire under her fingertips, leaving you keening into her touch.

One hand remains on your breast, the other tracing a minuscule path over your ribcage and to the edge of your pants, tugging at the fabric.

She doesn't have to ask this time, though, as you immediately lift your hips to allow her to pull them off.

Her kisses trail away from your lips, shifting down across your jawline, to your collarbone, occasionally leaving small nips on the way down.

Down to your chest, lips wrapping around your nipple, suckling and leaving you a whimpering mess.

The more your whines turn to soft pleas, the more she smirks against your skin when she lets the nipple go and continues a featherlight trail of kisses across your stomach.

"Baby, please."

You can feel the wave of hot air come from her as she chuckles against you.

"What's the matter, darling?"

"I need you."

The keening whine behind the words just have her amused as you buck up into her.

"Yeah? Tell me where. Where do you need me?"

The fact she’s trying to make you think like this, is criminal alone, and it makes you whimper when she extricates herself from your vicinity, a soft but stern tone behind her words.

"Tell me, Y/n. What do you need from me?"

"I need your mouth, fingers, anything. Please just touch me, baby."

A smug, mocking tone makes you whine.

"But I am touching you baby."

Attempting to grab her and pull her back into you, she chuckles and tuts at you, pulling away from your grasp.

"I need you inside me, on me, anything please."

It seems she's satisfied with that because she leans down once again.

Peeling off your underwear, she groans softly at the dampened fabric, head immediately moving to press kisses to the insides of your thighs, hands slipping under them and urging your legs over her shoulders, manoeuvring herself to be directly over your centre.

Hot puffs of air directly hitting your clit leaves you gripping the sheets tightly, breathing more than a little ragged.

"Look at me."

Your head lifts from where it had fallen back, eyes flitting to meet hers in the faintly lit room.

"Good girl."

With that, her mouth is on you swiftly, tongue taking in your taste with a breathy groan.

The warm, firm muscle makes you buck your hips up with a small jerk.

"Jesus, Zee."

Your hand shoots to her hair, gripping the raven locks tightly.

The grunt you're rewarded with has your legs shaking a little with the vibrations and it only makes her grip on your thighs tighten.

Her tongue laps at you, lips taking in your clit with a sharp suck before releasing and returning to thrust into your entrance.

Inevitably, when you let your head drop back against the pillow, a sharp pinch to the leg jolts you back to watch her again

"Keep watching, älskling, don't make me ask again."

The slightly cooler warmth of her breath contrasts against the startling heat of her mouth as it once again latches itself around your clit.

With the way she's devouring you, it feels like her tongue has found a home between your legs, the skillful swift flicks and swipes have your legs trembling beneath the strong grip of her hands over the skin of your thighs.

The moans she's drawing from you feel unrestricted, being released with no thought to them like you’d always done with everyone else.

She makes you feel safe here, in the dimly room of her home, secure beneath her sure touch, without need to restrain yourself.

You feel freer and safer than ever.

One hand releasing your leg brings you back to her, to the warmth of her taking you in with small, breathy groans.

It trails over your hip, gliding over your ribs, brushing the underside of your breast before sliding off to slip your hand into it, tangling your fingers together like they had been in the sheets only moments ago.

The build-up in your gut suddenly alerts you to the oncoming orgasm, the wave having completely snuck up on you.

"F-fuck. Zee, I'm gonna.."

You barely have time to register the small hum against you that's paired with the harsh suck that sends you kareening over.

Her hand squeezes yours, your legs wrap tighter around her shoulders and head, and her eyes follow the way your back arches up and your hips buck into her mouth, her other hand forcing your hips back into mattress.

She can feel her own arousal building just at the sight of you writhing beneath her, chest heaving with the efforts of her mouth on you.

The way her already dark brown eyes dilate at watching you cum on her tongue, the flood of your taste meeting her tastebuds as she slips her tongue inside you to clean up.

Her hand never leaves yours until you're needily fisting at her to pull her up to eye level once again, wasting no time kissing her.

The sweet, slightly tangy taste of yourself on her lips has you whining softly, and it takes little effort to push her onto her back, straddling her waist.

"Okay?"

You raise a brow at the soft pout on her lips.

"Who said I was done with you?"

Chuckling, you lean down to capture her lips in a brief, soft peck.

"No one, baby, it's my turn, now relax. I've been dying to taste you."

Clearly, your words have an effect on her, because you can feel the shiver run through her beneath you, and the way her fingers grip your hips tighter along with the small sigh she let's out when your lips trail down her exposed collarbone.

You're met with little resistance once your teeth dig into the soft pale skin of her chest, above the line of her bra, as you pull her up to sit up so you can reach behind to tug open the clasp.

Tossing it away, her hands find the back of your head, pulling you back down to kiss her again.

A smile crosses your lips against hers, and you press her back down into the mattress once again, hands holding you up either side of her head.

It takes but a small whine from her when you kiss down to her chest to have you nearly grinding down into her again.

Instead, you focus on the growing want to absolutely ruin the woman below you.

Teeth nipping small marks into her chest, your lips wrap around her nipple, tugging at the nub and releasing it with a small pop, relishing in the ragged gasps coming from above you.

Her fingers have fully tangled in your hair, pleading tugs every now and then, urging you on.

You only chuckle softly at her insistence.

"What's the matter, baby?"

Taking on the same mocking coo she held with you earlier, which she whines and almost rolls her eyes at, your hands still, laying flat over her stomach with your hips settled on top of her own.

"Älskling, baby, please..."

You gently smack away the hand that reaches for you with a smirk.

"Tell me what you want, baby."

The huff she lets out only widens your smile.

"I did not tease you this much."

"Answer the question, Zećira."

Ignoring her indignant whine, you slide a hand up her chest again, fingers twisting and moulding the soft flesh of her breast.

Hearing in that moment, the moment she gives in, the exhale.

A soft curse in swedish, followed by a whimper when you playfully grind your hips down and she's pleading.

"Älskling, god, please baby, fuck me."

"What was that, baby?"

It earns you a small, frustrated whine.

"Your fingers, fuck me with your fingers, your tongue baby please, anything, I need you."

A triumphant grin crosses your face as you lean down to reward the woman, lips meeting hers, hand slipping down to tug at the button on her jeans.

The way she eagerly lifts her hips up, her own hands encouraging yours as you tug down the fabric obstructing you, has you grinning up at the goalkeeper.

Not wanting to tease the woman any more than you had already, you tug down her underwear almost immediately after.

Frankly, you didn't feel like waiting any longer either, only torturing yourself more the longer you waited.

Sitting back on your haunches, just below her knees, reaching out a slow, gentle hand to trace a path down from her stomach to her hip.

To her inner thigh before finally settling, hovering over where she needs you.

Your forefinger and middlefinger apply a small amount of pressure, testing the waters as she watches with shallow rises and falls in her chest.

"Älskling.."

It would sound like a warning if it wasn't paired with a sharp gasp, eliciting when you glide your fingers further down to slip them inside her.

She's soaked through, and you have to hold back the soft groan as you feel her clench around you.

The feeling makes you shift downwards almost immediately, making slow, long strokes as you do so, with gentle curves of your fingers.

Hearing her beg and curse for you like this, you never want this to stop.

With that, your mouth lowers to take her, her hand in your hair now an encouraging force on your head as your tongue drags over her clit.

Her head falls back onto the pillow with what you can only describe as a small pleasured sigh of relief, and you giggle softly, letting your drag down, and back up again, lapping at the wetness accumulating around your hand.

Your other hand keeps her leg steady against the mattress, allowing you easier access as your thrusts speed up.

"Fu-"

She's never been an overtly loud person, so having her moan and curse for you like this, underneath your mouthing ministrations, only drives you even more crazy.

"Så vacker." (So beautiful).

It's a soft mutter against the skin of her inner thigh, paired with small kisses that you trail up to her hip again, meanwhile keeping pace, fingers curling inside her.

With the way her hips buck up into your face, you get the inkling that you speaking swedish to her has her losing her mind above you.

Or it could be the fact you're buried between her legs eating her like she's your last meal.

You don't mind either way.

Getting to hear her like this fuels you alone.

It feels like no time at all passes before her moans shift, and she's crenching a little harder around your fingers while her own tightens in your hair.

"Fuck, Y/n, I-."

"I know, baby. Go ahead, cum for me."

Curling your fingers just right in time with her thrusts, her moans halt as she seizes up, legs trembling around your head.

She's absolutely beautiful when she cums, you've decided.

Her hands slowly release their grip on your tresses and the sheets below the both of you, breathing slower and deeper as she comes down.

Zećira's eyes meet yours once again, noting the shining smug but also awed glint in them.

In that moment, she's decided she's going to drag as many orgasms out of you as she can tonight, unable to be patient enough to wait to see the look on your face once again as your legs shake around her head.

"Get up here."

There's no hesitation. You're up straddling her waist once again as she's sitting up to grip your neck to pull you down to her level.

Her hands settle on your hips once again, sliding back around to cusp your ass, giving the cheeks a quick squeeze, and you giggle softly at the blissed out look in her eyes.

She's absolutely gorgeous with swollen lips, purple marks marring her collarbone, and hair mussed from your hands being buried in them earlier.

They quickly return to that position, fingers carding through the dark locks, thumbs coming to caress her face as you lean down again to kiss her, slower and softer this time.

Loving.

Caring.

Thankful.

Both of you are more than feeling all of that.

There's a shining, loving look in her eyes as she looks up at you, and you feel it flow through your chest in a wave of warmth that makes your skin tingle.

"Hey Zee?"

She hums softly.

"Du betyder allt för mig också." (You mean everything to me, too.)

She grins up at you and the sound of your giggle can be heard as she flips the both of you over onto your back with her on top, lips taking yours in a very much smile filled kiss.

"Feelin' okay?"

"Amazing, you?"

You've never felt safer than here, in her arms.

-

[webslingingslasher]

could you do angst -> fluff?

you and peter are long distance. someone sends you a picture of "peter" cheating. but the picture isn't peter.

Long distance relationships sucked. 

You may be biased, but you knew that long term relationships were the worst of them all. You’d put that in the same category as finding out you’ve been catfished for years. 

It could be worse, like Sadie and Dylan. Dylan moved across the country for school and watching your roommate go through the process of trying to set up date facetime calls, and scheduling calls between the hours of the night, made you feel like you didn’t have any say about yours. 

At least you and Peter were in the same time zone, he was only an hour and a half train ride away but it felt like lifetimes when for years you shared a school and zip code. You always had Peter around, and it’s very noticeable when he’s not. 

Imagine not being able to kiss your lover everyday, hold their body, or look in their eyes. 

Sadie smiled empathetically when Peter called, she got up to leave the room empty. Many times you’ve gotten out of bed at three am for a long bathroom break, you know that there are some things you tell Peter you’d never want anyone else to hear. You could extend that to Sadie as well. 

Peter’s voice was warm through the phone. 

“Hiya, baby.” 

You bit your bottom lip, too excited to keep it in. 

“Hi, handsome.” 

“Tell me three things from your day.” 

You paused to think, you knew this question would come up, you made a mental note of what to tell Peter. 

“So, the fat squirrel by park hall attacked this guy for his sandwich, and I know what you’re thinking, but that squirrel is fucking vicious. And, hm…” 

Peter shuffles around on his end. 

“Oh! My English professor is letting us have open notes midterm, and finally… I really, really missed you.” 

Peter gives you a soft chuckle, you wish you could see his face too. 

“I missed you too, also that fat squirrel? Next time I come down I wanna see him in person, pictures don’t do it justice.” 

When he comes down, he hasn’t visited in a month. Not that you can’t go see him, you make sure to take trips but he also has his aunt here, and he tries to do Spidey in the city as much as he can to keep questions to a minimum. 

“Two more, petey.” 

He hums on the line, you miss feeling his chest vibrate when he does it against your back. 

“I ate a salad for lunch,” 

“Bullshit.” You cough on the line. 

“Okay, listen here, stinky.” 

“Shots fired! I’ll hang up right now.” 

Peter whines, “you can’t! I have to tell you my third thing.” 

“Go on, I have a call to finish.” 

He scoffs, “rude, I was going to say that I may have found an out for my robotics midterm so hypothetically-” 

You squeal so loudly on the phone Peter pulls his own away from his ear, it was slightly obnoxious but knowing you were just as excited to see him made his heart melt. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” 

Peter gives you that boyish laugh, the one that makes your heart beat three times fast. 

“Baby, I didn’t even finish.” 

“You don’t have to! I know what you’re saying and I need you here so I can kiss your face and other stuff.” 

Peter’s tone drops seductively,  “oh? Like what other stuff?” 

“You want to see the fat squirrel right?” 

“The one in my pants?” 

“Oh my god.” 

“Okay, okay, so I was thinking I could come up on-” 

His name was called in the background, it made you pause for a second, he stopped talking for a minute. His name was called again, it was tilted, like a song almost, it was a female for sure. 

“Oh, peteyyy?” 

Your stomach dropped, that was your name for him. The name that he only liked you calling him, it was something that was so sacred and this person you don’t know saying it so loosely, like it’s regular. 

“Pete?” You say his name like you’re asking ‘who’s that?’ ‘why is she calling you that?’ ‘where are you, are you in your dorm?’ ‘why is there a girl in your room calling you my name?’ 

He coughs, “sorry, baby. I uh, I need to go but I’ll call you in a few hours, okay?” 

“Oh. Oka-” 

The line went dead. 

Your mind swimmed with dangerous thoughts, each one simmered down with the overwhelming echo that peter would never do anything like what a part of you is insinuating. Not to mention you were sure that he’d explain everything when he called you in a few hours, except when you sat around and waited, and waited, and waited, he never called. 

You fell asleep waiting on his call, you woke up with your morning alarm and checked your phone, no missed calls or texts. It felt weird, he never missed goodnight calls. It wasn’t until ten he tried to call, you had to ignore it because of your class but made a note to call him on your way back to your room.

At lunch everything shifted. 

You and some friends met up in the dining hall and you were in the middle of scarffing down fries when you tried to look up your friends ex’s new girlfriend on instagram, you were confronted with a message request. The picture and text made your hand fall, french fries scattering, you felt like you were about to puke all over the table. 

“I’m pretty sure you’re peter's girlfriend, we shared a class last semester and he talked about you all the time. I was out with some friends last night and I’m pretty sure I saw him at a bar with a girl that doesn’t look like you. If this isn’t him or if you guys aren’t together anymore please ignore this, idk i’d want someone to tell me. I’m sorry :(“ 

Sure enough the picture was grainy, definitely zoomed in from across the bar but it sure did look like him. A plaid button down you’ve seen him a million times in before, curls poked out the sides of his head, it seemed curlier and longer than you remember but it’s been a while since you saw him in person. 

His left arm was looped around the waist of a girl totally opposite of you, it looked like his other hand held her face steady as he kissed her. It made your vision go blurry, you’ve never felt this way before. Curls blocked the side of his face but it looked like him, maybe he looked taller than normal but it was a pic taken from far away, you want to question everything about it but the longer you look at it the sicker you feel. 

You shut out of the app and go back to smiling with your friends, you wonder how you’ll call him out. If you were strong enough you’d just ghost him all together, never speak to him again and make him question his insanity. 

Instead the second he called when you were home you picked it up with shaky hands. 

“Hi ba-” 

“We’re done.” 

You hung up the phone. 

It rang less than three seconds later. 

“I’m sorry, what did you-” 

“I said we’re done. Goodbye.” 

You hung up again. 

It rang even quicker, immediate redial. 

“Is this a joke?” 

“I dunno, peter. Am I?” 

“I-” 

“Save it, it doesn’t matter. We’re broken up, you can stop calling.” 

You don’t know why you thought that would settle things, if anything that made everything worse. 

The fourth time he facetimed, he only did it when he was alone, you assume he either kicked his roommate out or is biting the bullet to get teased by his friend for the rest of his life while he begs to keep his girlfriend. 

You answer, “what.” 

“I need to see your face, what are you telling me?” 

“What did you do last night?” 

Peter’s eyebrows furrow, “I don’t know, what did I do?” 

You take a deep breath, “don’t play dumb. Who was she?” 

He makes a face of realization, “Ohhhh, you mean the girl on the phone?” 

You mock his tone, “yeah, the girl on the phone. You know, the one you were making out with?” 

You hear someone cough, it’s not peter, you can imagine the dead silence that just blanketed the room. 

Peter immediately takes the defense, “I didn’t make out with anyone last night, want to take the offense louder?” 

“Someone literally texted me a picture.” 

“Okay, so let me literally see it.” 

You narrow your eyes, “I don’t have to entertain this, peter. I broke up with you and you cheated, the end.” 

Peter sits up on his end, “no, not the end. You’re throwing damaging accusations out there and not giving me any fucking context.” 

“I. got. a. text.” You paused between each word to prove a point, also a little condescendingly. 

“Show. me.” He mocked your tone. 

You let a groan rip from your throat, “it doesn’t change that you did it.” 

Peter rubs his hand down his face, “okay, fuck this. I was here all night, in my dorm room. If you want you can ask my roommate, he was here, with his girlfriend,” he enunciated the last word, “who called me petey, you know, like you do, maybe, I don’t know, mockingly?”  

His words make you think, if he was truly guilty you don’t think he’d be defending himself so hard. You would think that once he was caught he’d fold his cards, instead he’s insulted you could even assume something like that. 

You take down the threat in your voice, “but… I got a picture. And it looks just like you.” 

Peter takes your side, he may defend his but he can’t make it better by pitting against you. 

“I’m sure it does, baby, but I promise I was here all night.” 

“Peter, it looks just like you.” 

He takes a deep breath to settle his frustration, “I know, but I promise it’s not me. Why would I cheat?” 

It’s a good question, you never would’ve thought he could but the picture was damning evidence. 

“I don’t know. I didn’t think you would, but I mean pete, it looks like you. He’s even wearing your green blue plaid button down.” 

Peter’s eyes bug open, his head spins, you know he’s staring his roommate in the eyes. 

“Evan!” They both exclaim at the same time. 

Your eyebrow scrunches, “who?” 

“Hair a little longer than mine? Maybe a little taller?” 

You pull your head back, “yeah… why?” 

Peter smiles wide, “making out with a blonde? At a bar?” 

“That would be it.” 

Peter shares a high five off screen. 

“That’s our friend Evan, he was on a date. He borrowed my shirt, wasn’t me, promise.” 

You stare at the screen, he seemed authentic and desperate for you to believe him. 

“Fine. We’re still dating for now, but I need to see you and him in the same room. Preferably from the back and in the same shirt.” 

“Done. I’ll print them out and bring them when I see you next week.” 

Peter winks at the screen and you squeal at the thought of seeing him so soon. 

[billy-macher-stu-loomis]

like a deer — yandere! poly! stuilly x male! prescott! reader

length: 1.1k

requested by 🌀!!

the plot of this one one got away from me a little bit whoops

major tws: murder (duh), graphic depictions of violence, major character death (it’s not you or our pretty boys though <3), knifeplay? idk they get real fucking horny with it, dubcon!! serious dubcon with the knife stuff, billy also gets kinda slutty with blood too srry, a kind of graphic description of a roadkill deer, some of that nice 90s internalized homophobia, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, manipulation/coercion? sort of?, these little homosexual freaks are unhinged (you included)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The first to go was Casey Becker.

Your next door neighbor.

They’d found her hanging from a tree in her front yard, gutted like a deer.

You, of course, had been the first person questioned by the police. Shaken and disturbed, you’d quickly found solace in your best friends, Billy and Stu.

~~~

The glass of Stu’s bedroom window was cold against your knuckles as you rapped on it. You only had to wait a moment in the freezing cold before the window slid open, a sleepy Billy rubbing his eyes as he let you inside.

“You forgot to put the spare key back under the doormat, you asshole,” you grumble to Stu as you clamber into his massive rich-boy bed. The taller boy giggles, wrapping his arms around you.

The two of them had always been touchy with you. Always with a hand on your hip or your lower back, an arm slung over your shoulders, interlaced fingers…

(You had your own suspicions that Billy and Stu might be…together, but you’d never say it aloud.)

It was totally normal for guys to share a bed at a sleepover, right? Girls do it all the time.

Totally normal.

~~~

Next to go was your girlfriend, Heather.

You didn’t feel sad. You felt…numb. You felt nothing.

I’m just so sad that I can’t even feel anything, you reasoned with yourself, trying not to think too much about Billy’s hand wandering a little closer to your ass than usual as he wrapped you up in a sympathetic hug. That’s it. Of course. Boys always feel relieved when their girlfriends die. That’s totally normal. Everything’s fine.

~~~

One by one, your friend group was shrinking. People were being killed off left and right. You’d gotten the news about Janis right you and Billy left the movie theater. Sadie had been found in the pool by her big brother while you were busy beating Stu ass at Chutes and Ladders. When Wyatt turned up dead, you’d been taking a joyride with Billy in his dad’s Viper. When Teddy died, you’d been getting ice cream with Stu.

All four were found gutted.

Like deer.

Despite how much they’d been hanging out with you as of late, you’d declined Billy and Stu’s invitation to come hunting with them that weekend.

~~~

“You wanna come over after school? My dad’s outta town, so we can watch whatever the hell we want.”

“Can’t. I’ve got, uh, homework,” you lie, refusing to meet Billy’s eyes as you slammed your locker shut and hurried away.

~~~

“You’ve been avoiding us all week,” Billy accuses, stepping in front of the door to block your exit as you try to leave the cafeteria

“Did we do something wrong?” Stu asks anxiously, fluttering around by Billy’s side.

“No! No. Of course not.”

“Then why are you avoiding us?”

You bite your lip, nervous to tell them the truth.

“I’m afraid you two will be next.”

~~~

Absently, you wonder how Stu’s going to get all of that blood out of his nice beige sweater. You’d bought him that sweater last year for Christmas.

Stu kneels in front of you, resting his bloody hands on your hips as he looks up at you imploringly. “Please forgive us?”

How do you get blood out of clothes? Cold water? Or— is it warm water? Sidney would know. You ought to ask her.

“Baby?” Stu begs, his fingers curling in your shirt as he grips you tightly.

Oh. Right. You can’t ask Sidney.

She’s dead.

Billy is skillfully using his body to block your view of the carnage on the floor, doing his best to keep you from freaking out.

His hands are on you, running through your hair, lightly touching your cheek. He’s sticky, with your sister’s blood, your father’s blood, Stu’s blood, his own blood, and fucking corn syrup.

“Sweetheart?” Stu questions, hooking a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugging on it lightly. “See? We love you.”

You’re horrified. They murdered thirteen people to show their love.

(You would’ve been fine with just a box of chocolates and some flowers, but y’know. Billy refuses to half-ass things.)

“Do you need us to prove it to you?”

Stu’s got a crazed look in his eye that makes you shrink back. But Billy’s grip on you is tight enough that you can barely move at all, forced to watch as Stu yanks off his ruined sweater, unabashedly moaning like a slut when the fabric catches on his fresh stab wounds, ripping back open the flesh that was so desperately trying to knit itself back together.

Billy hands Stu his buck knife, watching with rapt attention as the man holds it over his chest. Stu doesn’t even flinch, watching in a trance as the tip of the blade sinks into his flesh, droplets of red already welling to the surface. He drags the blade along his skin, carving your initials into his chest, right above his heart.

When he’s finished, he hands the knife back to Billy, who reverently takes it, studying the fresh red sheen on the metal before pressing his tongue flat against the side of the blade and licking off Stu’s blood.

You look away, disgusted and somehow turned on at the same time.

(You can’t help but sneak a look when the two boys share a messy, blood- and spit-soaked kiss. Fuck.)

Billy yanks off his corn syrup-stained white shirt, tossing it carelessly on the floor, where it hits your dead father in the face. He steadies the knife, holding it over his chest and doing the same thing as Stu just did.

You choke out a sob, unable to rectify this image of your boys as psychotic murderers with the image of them just last night, cuddling up with you in bed and leeching off of your warmth and rambling about horror movies.

“Sweetheart?” Billy murmurs, cupping your face in his hand. “Look. Look, see? We love you. We love you.”

They love you. They love you.

You keep mentally repeating that mantra to yourself. Even as you are forced to scrunch your eyes through the pain of the knife carving two sets of initials into your chest. Even as you look at the bodies of your sister and father one last time. Even as Billy scoops you up to carry you to Stu’s van in a way that’s supposed to be playful but just comes across as a final doomed death sentence, the clang! of a prison door slamming shut. You repeat your mantra even as you pass by the bodies of Randy and Dewey; even the mutilated body of that obnoxious bitch from Top Story makes you have to look away.

They love you. They love you.

Stu drives, on the lamb. Billy lays in the back with you, curled up with you on the bed in Stu’s stupid “shaggin’ wagon”.

Your eyes are glued to the smiley-face shaped air freshener dangling from Stu’s rear view mirror. You can’t look at Billy right now.

They love you. They love you.

You can almost trick yourself into believing it, at least for a little while.

But the sight of the dead deer on the side of the road, visible through the front windshield, its chest smashed and broken like a piñata, sends you spiraling.

When you look back at the stupid air freshener hanging from the mirror, its bright yellow face smiling at you only feels mocking and cruel. All you can see is Casey’s body hanging from that damned tree.

They love you. They love you.

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Invisble String

luke hughes x actress!reader

note: short cute introduction to this au, get to know how long Y/n has been Luke's celeb crush and get to know Y/n

also in 2018 reader is 17 and Luke is 15 for reference so like do the math i can't do everything

2018

"Why do you even want to watch 'It' you hate clowns?" the eldest brother asked, holding a bowl of popcorn while he rounds the couch to were he previously sat.

"Jack asked for a scary movie so I suggested a scary movie." though he wasn't lying, both statements were true, it wasn't the real reason he suggested the movie. But like he would ever admit that to his brothers because he'd never hear the end of it if they knew. Little did he know they already did.

"He wants to watch it because Y/n L/n is in it." Jack mumbled, not looking up from his phone where he looked up the cast list, and he begins to laugh along when his older brother starts to.

"Not true."

"Too true."

"Shut up. Are we watching this or something else." Quinn says, being the mediator among the three.

All throughout the movie, while Luke was gawking at his dream girl, Jack and Quinn would make eye contact over his head silently laughing at their brothers face of awe whenever Y/n was on screen. When she walked slow-mo out of the store, the scenes at the quarry, Luke had the same face as the boys on the screen except he wasn't acting.

-

2020

73 Questions With Y/ L/n | Vogue

Y/n opens the door for the vogue camera man, after she just shut it on him.

"Hey! Y/n L/n! You excited for your 73 questions with vogue?" the interviewer asks enthusiastically.

"Yes, I am.. Does that count as your first question?"

While the man asks several questions, Y/n lead them into her living room.

"Who do you want to play you in a movie about your life?"

"Umm.. Sadie Sink. And I would like to play Sadie in the movie about her life."

"What is the knewest thing in here?"

After quickly looking around the girl grab a recent purchase of hers a stuffed octopus.

"I recently bought this stuffed animal. It's an octopus, because there's only one or else it would be octopi."

"Interesting, and what do you think is the coolest thing in this room?"

Setting down the octopus, Y/n walks towards her book case. Grabbing what looks to be a very old book.

"This is a vintage edition of Little Women the same one my mom read to me when I was 12 and the same one I reread in preparation for my role as Amy March."

While placing the book back on the shelf the man asks, "Without looking do you know what the last word of Little Women is?"

Jokingly Y/n pick the book up again and starts to open it, and the two chuckle, she then continues to answer the question. "No, um..I know, 'end'."

"End?"

"Yep. That counts as a question."

"It's actually 'this'"

"... 'This'?" the man nods before Y/n continues, "No, you're wrong it's end. Because all books end in 'the end' how could you not know that."

The interview continues into the girl kitchen, while she pours herself an iced tea.

"What is your favourite sport?"

"I don't really have a favourite sport, but I guess I'll say hockey. 'Cause y'know they're hot."

-

imessage

Rowdy

Did you see your girlfriend said hockey boys were hot?

Maybe you have a chance

Lukey

Shut up.

Luke rewatched that interview a couple to many times.

-

2023

Y/n_updates

liked by i_said_SpeakNow, LikeRibbonsInYourHair, and others

Y/n_updates: Y/n was at the New Jersey Devils vs Philadelphia Flyers preseason game! she was with the Devils wags too! Just more proof that her and Luke Hughes are dating... What do you think?

view all comments

taytaySwft: they would be so cute!! i hope they're together ☺️

_spider_man: what's with the it girlies dating professional athletes right now?

jackhugheswife: damn he could do better than her

amyMarchstan: better than the gorgeous and successful woman she is?

harrie13: I miss her and Lucas 🙁

stranger_80: No him and Sadie!!!

anne_Cats: so she's got a thing for Lukes huh?

harrie13: lmao i didn't even realize that 😭😭

TaybrinaStan: she's doing for hockey what Taylor is doing for football.

note: yes i did only make her previously date Lucas McLaughlin for that one joke that's not even funny.. what about it?

[sw-33-ts-stuff]

She Don’t Wanna Marry Me

Part 4

16 Years Old

“Hey Y/N!” A familiar blonde ran up to you.

“Oh hey Jessie what’s up?” You crossed your arms as you spoke to the girl.

Lorraine quietly stood next to you as your walk home was interrupted.

“Nothin much.” The girl

Giggled twirling her hair. “I just wanted to know if you’d want to go to the Sadie Hawkins dance with me?”

Lorraine’s jaw clenched as she watched your face. She couldn’t tell if you were interested by the way you kept your expression smooth.

“I appreciate the offer Jessie but someone already asked me.”

Both girls eyes widened surprised before Jessie smirked her shy demeanor gone.

“Well I can promise you an extra good time if you go with me.” Her hand went to graze your arm with its fingernails making Lorraine scoff. You glance at the girl offering Jessie a short nod before you led the small brunette on the path home.

Once she was out of ear shot Lorraine let loose.

“Skank.” You barked out a laugh making the girl glare at you.

You raise your hands up in surrender.

“Hey what did I do? I completely agree with you.” Lorraine’s eyebrows furrowed.

You chuckle softly shaking your head.

“You really think I’ll let jezebel take me to the dance?” Lorraine shrugged her feet kicking a small rock as she refused to meet your eyes.

“Well if not her then what about the other girl that asked you?”

You shook your head.

“I turned her down told her I was planning on asking someone else.”

Shiny brown eyes met yours.

“Who?” She asked voice soft and curious as she bit her lip.

“I-“

“LORRAINE!” You let out a heavy sigh as Douchebag Danny came running up to the two of you.

The girl beside you shifted her attention to the boy running towards you. The moment gone the minute he’d stood in front of her.

“Hey..” he huffed trying to catch his breath. Hands on his knees as he bent over feeling as if his lungs were gonna collapse. “Hey.”

Lorraine giggled brushing a piece of her hair back. You felt your jaw clench knowing the tell tale sign of Lorraine crushing on someone.

“Hey Daniel, are you ok?”

The boy scoffed standing up straight still breathing heavily.

“Psshhh yeah I’m fine, better than fine actually I’m great.”

You rolled your eyes as you felt yourself almost puke.

“I heard a rumor that you were gonna ask me to the dance coming up.” Your eyes shot to the girl in question as she blushed, more nervous giggles and hair twirling as she looked up at the boy doe eyed.

“Maybe.” Pearly white teeth grinned at her.

“Well maybe I would say yes.” The girl squared her shoulders and stood taller.

“Will you go to the dance with me?”

“I’d love to go with you.”

You walk ahead giving the two space as they continued to talk. Douchebag following you as he offered to walk her home.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” You didn’t look but knew Lorraine was already telling the boy yes.

You walked into the kitchen rubbing daddy’s shoulder as he read a newspaper and gave mama a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey baby how was school?” You shrug grabbing an apple.

“It was ok I’m not that hungry right now is it ok if I just go lay down?” The two looked to you concerned but were quickly interrupted by a squealing Lorraine.

“I got a date to Sadie Hawkins.” Her mom laughed clapping a bit before kissing her daughters cheeks.

“That’s great baby. We’ll go dress shopping this weekend ok?” The girl nodded enthusiastic as her father grunted.

“And what little punk thinks he’s good enough for my Rainey?” The girl almost rolled her eyes at her fathers protective nature. You remained quiet as your grip on the apple tightened and the slight flexing of your jaw increase. Slowly making your way to your room as you wanted to avoid any further talk of the dance.

“Daniel Smith down the street.”

He huffed. “Isn’t he a little old for you?”

“He’s 17 daddy.”

“Oh stop it.” She hit her husband. “He’s a sweet boy his mother and I are in the same book club and he always lends a hand when she needs it.”

“Yeah all boys are sweet at first then they go looking for one thing and the minute they get it-“

“Stop while you’re ahead.” Mrs. Day’s tone was calm but the threat behind her words gave little sense of peace.

His shoulders sagged before he sat up straight again turning to his daughter.

“I want to meet him before you leave and he better have you home by 11.” The girl clapped hugging her father before helping her mother set the table. She noticed only three plates being taken out.

“Is someone not eating?”

“Y/n said she wasn’t too hungry. I’ll leave her a plate in the microwave.” As the trio ate her father broke the silence.

“So did anyone ask her to the dance?”

Lorraine scoffed. “Yeah, the town tramp.”

Her father choked mid bite a hearty laugh following.

“Damn it Raine.”

“Lorraine.” Her mother scolded making the girl shrug at the mixed reactions.

“It’s true. She did say someone else asked but it wasn’t who she wanted to take.”

“Did she ever say who it was?” Lorraine shrugged.

“No idea.”

The next day you were more quiet than usual and as you went to leave, Mrs.Day stopped you.

“Aren’t you gonna wait for Lorraine?”

You shook your head.

“Douc-Daniels gonna get her.”

She nodded. “Would you want me to take you?”

You shook your head already one foot out the door. “I like the walk.”

As you were leaving you almost slammed into the idiot with nice hair.

“Oh hey Y/n is Lori ready?”

You felt your eyebrows scrunch together. Lori?

You shook your head rushing past him.

“Don’t know but I gotta get going.”

This was last week, the dance was in a few days and all but one Day noticed your strange behavior. You were listening to music when Mrs.Day knocked on your door.

“Hey sweetie.” You put your phone down slowly taking off your headphones confused.

“Everything ok?” Mama laughed sitting next to you on your mattress.

“I should be asking you that darlin you’ve been quiet and we haven’t seen much of you.” You shrug.

“Just been busy.” The woman smirked.

“Avoiding Lorraine?” You flush slightly rubbing your neck.

“I’m guessing she was who you wanted to ask to the dance.” You stare slightly embarrassed as you nod.

She gently placed a hand on your cheek brushing some hair back from your face.

“I’m sorry baby.” You shrug again. “But I think you shouldn’t mope around.”

“You’re not mad at me for liking Lorraine?”

The older woman laughed.

“Baby if I got mad at you for that I would’ve hated you since we met.”

You stay silent. “How about we go get you something nice for the dance?”

You shook your head. “I think I’ll pass.”

She nodded as she stood going to her bathroom brushing her teeth as she got ready for bed.

Her husband resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Y/n just realized she likes Raine.” Mr.Day laughed.

“That poor kids been in love with her since they met, we just gotta wait to see if Rainey will catch up.” Her eyebrows shot up.

“You knew?!” He laughed nodding.

“I may not be the sharpest tool

in the kit but I know love struck when I see it.”

“I give it 2 years before they get together.” Her husband grinned.

“I think it’ll take longer than that I give it 5.”

22 Years Old

Mr.Day was quiet as he brushed his teeth, his wife next to him rubbing lotion into her skin.

“Guess we both lost that bet huh?”

Mr.Day chuckled. “I got until the end of this year but yes it’s looking like we were wrong.”

Mrs.Day sighed.

“Is it our fault?”

“Of course not! We can’t dictate her life. It’s better to wait for the right thing then to race for the wrong thing.” She shook her head.

“She’s getting married.”

“She’s engaged, she ain’t married there’s still time for her to figure out what her heart wants.”

“And what if it’s Rj?” At this Mr.Day scoffed.

“Yeah and what if pigs fly?” The back of her hand slapped his shoulder.

“Im serious.”

“And I am too darlin’. Look Raine may take some time but I think a part of her knows RJ ain’t right for her. Im hoping a part of her also knows that while she may not love Y/n she deserves someone who would love her like Y/N would.”

They stayed quiet until Mr.Day broke the silence again laughing.

“You remember Daniel?” His wife finally cracked a smile.

“Such a sweet boy.” Mr.Day laughed.

At the dance she had only talked about you and how she wished you were there with her. Daniel had tried to steer her concentration to them but ended up taking her home early. Their “first kiss” decent but no fireworks. The dates were nice but she’d find herself wishing she were hanging out with you instead. They had tried, going bowling, grabbing pizza, even small walks in the park. This went on for months before Lorraine had decided to end it. She didn’t feel the connection she yearned for.

Lorraine had come in crying she hadn’t stopped to talk to her parents she just ran up to your room pouncing on you the moment she went through the door. Her arms slung around your neck as hot tears met your skin. She was so upset she couldn’t speak. You consoled her and let her take your bed before you snuck out knocking on the boys door and punching him with no explanation.

“I was the one who taught her to punch.” Mr. Day grinned proudly as his wife hit him once again.

Back at your apartment, you had just finished washing up when you heard a sharp knock at your door. You went to open the door and found Lorraine on the other side.

“Raine?”

“So an apartment above the shop is better than our home?”

“What? No I-“

“Did you leave because you didn’t want them to catch you sneaking in girls?”

“What?! Raine-“ the girl stumbled into you. Big baby browns locking onto yours as soft hands stroked your face.

“Or is it because you hate me?” You watched as a light shimmer of tears lined her eyelids.

You grabbed her chin firmly making her breath hitch.

“Now that’s a damn lie Lorraine I could never hate you.” You sniffed and almost gagged at the familiar scent.

“Are you drunk?” Her body sagged against you her head hitting your shoulder as she nodded.

“And you drove here?!” She shook her head.

“I had Bobby drop me off.”

You sighed, picking the girl up bridal style.

She laughed arms going around your neck as she did so.

“You’re my best friend.” You laid her gently in your bed as you went to grab some extra blankets.

“I know.”

“I miss you.”

“I know.”

“I love you.” You stop, looking at her cheesy grin knowing she doesn’t mean it the way you want her to.

It’s only when her soft snoring hits your ears that you realize she’s fallen asleep.

“I love you so much more.” You place a soft kiss on her forehead as you go to sleep in the couch.

Once you throw yourself down you raise one arm behind your head, eyes staring at nothing as you wonder what you’ll do when she marries him.

Taglist: @ctrlamira @tundra1029 @friedryes @alexkolax @wol-fica @natasha25052 @pdione11 @dksjskx @the-camilucha @niqmandu @pawiie @cozwaenot @evanivox @livingdreams97 @haughtsauce21 @autorasexy @dogtamer415 @karsonromanoff @wedfan2 @starry-night17 @orignalpat @red1culous @canvascoloredin @bigbadsofty07

[kimmiessimmies]

Spring 08: Now or Never (7/25)

Sadie sighed and smiled at Rachel, “It’s just… I don’t know… The truth is, I don’t want to give it too much thought because then it gets complicated. And I like things the way they are. This works for us, even if it can’t be completely defined. And you know, I still have a lot of unresolved Finn stuff going on...”

Rachel slowly nodded, “Yes, I know... Do you know what you’re going to do about that yet?”

Sadie shook her head, “Well, basically, the ball is in Finn’s court, but maybe the time has come just to let go. Maybe I should just tell him our moment has passed, and we should both move on...”

“Has it?” Rachel asked, “Has your moment passed?”

[madebycloud]

Sad, Beautiful, Tragic

jenna ortega x director!reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: in a special episode of a popular tv show, you were interviewed about your love life and the experiences you had with your ex-partner. warnings/themes: fluff & angst, not the ‘happy ending’ you're expecting ig, low-key based on la la land words: 3.5k notes: this song is stuck in my head, so i used it as the title 🙏

“Can you handle it?” she paused for a beat. “This whole Valentine's Day thing? You've been like, “yep, yep” for 11 times today, but I just want to make sure you're not going to won't lose it or anything.”

You roll your eyes before putting the phone on speaker and sighing audibly. “Sadie, girl, I promise I'm okay, alright, fine, whatever. Stop asking or I'm going to scream,” you reply, letting out a few giggles.

“Well, I just want to make sure,” she says, clearly still concerned.

“Well, you can stop now,” you reply with a smirk. “I'll tell you all about it later.” The phone call ends, and you take a deep breath and prepare for the next interview. Not just an ordinary interview, this one is all about your love life.

You straighten your clothes, fix your makeup one last time, and open the door. The staff instantly calls your name as you enter the room. “Y/N! The interview room is right there!”, the staff greets you.

You nod and offer a friendly smile to everyone before heading to the interview room.

One of the staff is already waiting for you inside. “Zoe,” she introduces herself. “"And you must be...?”

“Y/N,” you say, holding out your hand for a formal handshake.

Zoe laughs and grasps your hand with hers. “I believe our interviewer is busy right now, but you may wait there for the time being,” she adds, motioning to the chair where the interview will take place. You nod and take a seat, waiting for the interview to begin. 

“You've prepared for the questions, right?” Zoe asks.

You shake your head and give a sly grin. “Questions? What questions?” 

“Oh, please don't tell me you weren't prepared for this.”

“I honestly wasn't,” you shrug. “But I'm sure the questions will be easy.”

The interviewer finally arrives, and you greet her with a charming smile.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

“Likewise,” you say, offering your hand to the well-dressed woman. She shakes it firmly before taking a seat in front of you.

“Alright, before we start, are you ready?” She asks, double-checking that you're prepared.

You give a confident nod. “Absolutely.”

The interviewer counts down from three, two, one, and the recording begins. She introduces both of you to the audience, and you listen as she speaks, nodding along. 

When she finishes, she turns back to you. “Have you been in a relationship?” 

You let out a small chuckle. “Yes, I have.” The staff in the back let out an ooooh, and your smile widens. 

“Tell me everything,” the interviewer continues, her eyes locked on yours.

“The whole story?” You ask, raising an eyebrow in the interviewer's direction. “Like, I'll start from when we first met?”

She nods, giving you the green light to continue with your story.

“Okay, so I'm still in my third year of college, and she's an actress, and I was an intern, carrying around coffee on the set, you know, trying to make a good impression. I was holding my favorite camcorder and taking footage of my experience as the gofer. I'm glad the director approved my request to do this,” you say, letting out a small chuckle. “Oh, yeah, and he said the footage might be used as the behind-the-scenes footage for the film.”

—

You've captured everything—from the cast's interactions to the staff's busywork and even yourself buying coffee for everyone. You've dreamed of being a director, and maybe one day you'll be a director and film like this.

Right now, everyone's resting, and it's more like recess time, so you take the opportunity to record more footage. Mia walks up and wraps her arms around Brittany, and they begin to chat. You keep the camera on them, but they eventually leave, taking a break.

You turn back towards the set, scanning for anything else to film. 

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot a brunette girl holding a script, practicing her next line. Your lips curl into a small smile as you aim the camera at her. Her voice is soft, and her facial expressions are so animated as she goes through her lines. 

You find yourself forgetting about the camera and just focusing on her. Her body language, her tone, her facial expressions... everything just seems to blend together into one seamless performance.

Seconds later, she stops mid-sentence and looks at you, breaking you out of your trance. You put down the camera, feeling your face turn red. You look everywhere else but at her, hoping she doesn't notice. And then, she does. She makes her way over to you, the script still in her hand.

You turn to face her, feeling a bit sheepish. “Uh, hey,” you say, hoping to maintain some kind of composure. “I'm Y/N,” you add, offering her a small smile.

She notices your reaction and raises an eyebrow, clearly wondering what's got you so flustered. “Um, I was just filming the behind-the-scenes footage,” you blurt out, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Oh, that makes sense.” She chuckles. “I'm Jenna Or-,” she introduces herself.

“I know,” you cut her off. She raises her eyebrows again, and you panic. You didn't mean for that to sound rude. “I mean, I know you're Jenna Ortega. I'm working here too.” 

She nods, fully understanding what you meant.

“I was just watching you act... you're amazing."

“Thank you,” she says with a smile. “I just practice a lot. It's important to me to give my best performance, you know?”

You don't know what to say. All you can do is nod, blushing like crazy.

“So, what do you do around here?” she asks, trying to make conversation.

“Oh, I'm one of the film set workers, an intern actually,” you say. “I basically help set everything up and make sure everything runs smoothly.”  

She tilts her head to the side, and your heart skips a beat. You can feel your cheeks turning red, and she seems to be enjoying the fact that you're blushing. 

“Are you an aspiring director?”

“Yeah… I've always wanted to make a movie, and I thought that this would be a good way to start.”

“Wow, that's awesome. I love movies too,” she says with a smile. “But being in them is another experience entirely.”

“Just trying to get a handle on things and see what I'm good at.”

“That's the best way to do it. Just try things and see what works. That's what I did with acting, and look where it got me,” she says, holding your gaze. You feel like you're melting into her eyes.

“So, why are you interested in filmmaking?” she asks.

“I've been studying and practicing filmmaking every day, and I hope to one day make something as great as what we're doing here.”

She smiles, and you notice how stunning her eyes are. They seem like the most beautiful, sparkly gems you've ever seen.

“Maybe we can work on something together someday.”

“Yeah, I'd love that. Maybe I can learn a few things from you. You're a really good actress, Jenna.”

She blushes and looks away, hiding a smile. “Well, I don't know if I'm that good, but thank you, Y/N. It means a lot coming from someone who's willing to learn more about the industry.” 

“I should get back to practicing,” she says, turning away from you. “But we should get together sometime.”

“Definitely,” you say, smiling. “I'd like that.”

—

“I told myself to play it cool, but man, I was a mess,” you admit. “I couldn't help but feel butterflies in my stomach every time she was around, and my voice got all shaky. I felt like I was going to melt.” You hide your face in your hands, feeling the heat radiate from your cheeks.

“I'm sure she thought it was cute,” she says, giving you a warm smile.

“Oh, I hope so.”

She pauses for a moment, deep in thought. “Tell me, how did things go between the two of you after meeting?”

—

You ordered two scoops of your favorite ice cream, knowing that you'd need something to cool you down even in the middle of summer. You're minding your own business when you get a glimpse of Jenna seated on a bench, reading her script. You approach her, and instead of offering her coffee, you hand her two ice cream cones.

She accepts it and starts to unwind, licking the sweet, cool treat. You see a small smile spread across her face as she takes another bite.

“You're a true saint,” she says. 

“You need a break,” you say, taking a seat next to her on the bench.

“You know, I wasn't expecting you to be a summer ice cream salesperson.” She takes another bite of her ice cream and raises an eyebrow. “So what's your motivation for bringing me ice cream today? Did you just think I needed a treat, or were you trying to impress me?”

You grin at her. “Maybe a little bit of both.”

“Don't tease me, Y/N.”

“Well, it's not like it's every day that I get to share ice cream with a movie star.”

The ice cream melts, and it creates a sticky mess on her fingers, making her try to clean her hands on her jean shorts. You grab a napkin from your pocket, and you hand it to her to use. “Thanks,” she says, taking the napkin and cleaning her hands.

“It's so, so hot out here,” you say, fanning yourself. You look around at the sun-drenched set.

She nods in agreement, wiping a strand of hair out of her face. “I know. It's unbearable,” she says with a sigh.

“I'm more of a Christmas person myself. I love everything about it.” 

“Christmas, huh?” 

“It's the best! All the snow, the gifts, the Christmas songs—and of course, the food!” you say, getting more and more excited.

“Okay, okay, calm down. We get it, you love Christmas,” she says, grinning. “I love Christmas too.”

“Do you really?” you say, feigning surprise. “Maybe we should watch some Christmas movies sometime, you know, for ‘research.’”

She chuckles, looking at you with deep brown eyes that drill into your soul. “Sure, why not?”

You nod, feeling your heart race a little faster. You want to say more, but you're not sure if you should.  

She turns to her script once more. You can tell that she's focusing on reading her script, but the occasional glance she gives you makes your heart race. You have to remind yourself to breathe normally.

You glance down at the script she's holding, which she's still reading. “Can I read with you?” you offer. “I'm a bit of a movie nerd, so I'm happy to help.” 

She looks up at you, her eyes sparkling with a bit of surprise. “Really? You'll read with me?”

“Yeah, it'll be fun.” 

She hands you the script, and you start to scan the lines. “So, what scene are we reading?” 

She points to the page, pointing to a specific part of the script. “This one, right here,” she says, biting her lip as she watches you read.

You clear your throat, trying to focus on the dialogue, but it's hard to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. She's so close to you, and her warm, intoxicating scent fills your nostrils.

You begin to read aloud from the script, trying to capture the tone and energy of the characters as best you can.

You hear a light chuckle coming from her direction, and you glance up to see her smiling, her head shaking slightly.

“What's so funny?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing, it's just…” she starts, but then hesitates, “I didn't expect you to be this good.”

You're not sure what to say to that, so you just smile. “Thanks,” you manage, feeling a bit flustered.

—

“A year,” you say, the word dripping through your lips. “We've been friends for a whole year. We hung out often, but life got in the way for both of us.”

You shift in your seat, making yourself more comfortable. “As a fourth-year student, I've been slammed with academics, and she's, well, a celebrity, so it's hard to make time for each other.” you continue with a small chuckle. “We still stay in touch, though, sending each other texts of encouragement or just sharing a little bit about our days.”

“Our first date…” you trail off for a moment, tapping your foot on the floor and looking at your feet. “I saw her at a record store in New York while I was out Christmas shopping. She was trying to pick out a record for herself, and I helped her find the perfect one.” 

You smirk, crossing your legs as you sit across the table from the interviewer. “In fact, I invited her to my show that night.”

“What show?” the interviewer prompts, puzzled.

You shrug. “My little show was at a university theater, and with a limited run, it wasn't really a big deal.”

You take a deep breath, a small grin spreading across your face. “I was nervous because it was my first time directing, but the cast was incredible, and she showed up! I didn't expect her to, but she did.”

—

“The show was amazing! You're a total genius, Y/N,” Jenna says, while walking with you on the sidewalk.

“Don't flatter me too much, or I'll start growing a big head,” you reply with a half-smirk, giving Jenna a sidelong glance.

“Oh, we wouldn't want that, now, would we?”

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the grin on your face. “Nope, that would be my worst nightmare.”

You realize that the cold winter air is making your hands feel stiff and numb. You keep them in your coat pockets, trying to stay warm. You feel a flutter in your chest as Jenna walks next to you, her shoulder brushing against yours.

After a beat of comfortable silence, Jenna looks up at you with a smile, her hair framing her face in the soft glow of the streetlights. “So... you got any Christmas plans?”

“No, I'm just planning on spending the holiday with myself,” you shrug casually.

Jenna's smile falters for a moment, but she soon regains her cool. “That's boring. What about your family?” 

You shrug again and glance at her, wondering where she's going with this. “Eh, they're all busy,” you say with a nonchalant air.

She narrows her eyes at you, and you can practically feel her brain working overtime.

“We're here,” you say as you reach the front of your house. “I'll see you around.”

“Wait,” she says, suddenly interrupting your internal monologue, causing you to jump.

“What is it?”

“I'll be spending this Christmas with my family,” she begins. Her hands fidget, her eyes darting around as if she's trying to find the right words to say.

She takes a breath, and you hold yours, not daring to interrupt her as she speaks.

“Do you... do you want to spend Christmas with me?” she asks, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I mean, with us. If you want to...?” There's a moment of silence following her response, and she starts to wonder if she said too much.

You blink in surprise, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the windows of some of the nearby houses. The lights inside cast a warm glow on your face, highlighting the rosy hue that crept into your cheeks.

“I'd love to.”

“Really?” The corners of her mouth turning up into a grin as she looks up at you.

You nod again, unable to trust your voice to speak.

A delicate white snowdrop lands on your hair, and you tilt your head back to catch the flutters of powdery white. You smile, your teeth blinding white against your flushed cheeks.

“It's…” she starts, but the words seem to be stuck in her throat, as if the moment is too perfect to be interrupted with conversation. 

“I know.” Your breath created a small cloud of frost in the air.

She looks up at you with a slight smirk on her lips, her eyes darting between yours and the falling snow. 

The only sound coming from your lips is a soft ‘wow’ as the snow settles on the ground. She can't help but notice your cute grin that stretches from ear to ear, almost like a child on Christmas morning.

She reaches for your hand, and your heart skips a beat. Her touch is colder than the winter air, but the warmth of her presence sets your heart on fire.

You turn to face Jenna, a smile creeping across your face as you take in the soft snow falling like a gentle caress on your cheeks. 

Jenna looks at you with such intensity that you can't remember how to breathe. “You're cold,” you state, and she nods, her eyes still locked on yours. 

She swallows, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. She can feel the warmth of your hand on her forehead, and the mere act of being in your presence makes her feel warm all over.

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't. The silence stretches on and on, and you've never wanted to fill it more.

And just like that, the moment is ruined when you sneeze. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, turning red. 

She chuckles. “It's okay, I've got a tissue.” 

You accept it gratefully, wiping away the redness around your nose.

“Thanks,” you say, your voice a little hoarse. 

She nods, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Anytime,” she replies, before turning back to the snow, watching as it falls around you.

—

“...after we spent the holidays, we started dating.”

“How long have you been dating?”

“Two years. We've been dating for two years.” You smile softly. “Time was the one thing we couldn't control. I feel like we've just been going in different directions.”

“While I'm trying to make my name as a director, she got into a major franchise as a supporting actor. We both have such busy schedules, and we would barely see each other,” you continue. “The busy schedules, the fights, the doors being slammed, the screaming, the distance—it feels like we've spent more time apart than we have together.”

“It got so bad that we almost broke up, but in the end, we chose to fix things. I supported her career, and she supported mine.”

“But then, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on us, our schedules clashed over and over again,” you say. “We had a massive argument, with both of us shouting at each other. We could never see eye to eye on anything, no matter how much we tried. I reached my breaking point, and I made the decision to break things off.”

“We both know it's over,” you say, sighing heavily.

“I can't deny it; we've achieved so much. But we're both so busy and caught up in our own careers that we can't focus on each other.”

The interviewer waits for a moment, letting you gather your thoughts. “Do you still love her?”

“I used to, but not anymore.”

—

The sun sets over the studio as the interview comes to a close. 

“Well, that's all the time we have for today, Y/N. Thank you so much for joining us. We wish you nothing but the best in your future endeavors.”

“Oh, I bet you say that to all the guests. But seriously, thanks for having me, Jenna.” You share a laugh and shake hands as she delivers her final line in front of the camera.

Once the cameras stop rolling, you join the staff in cleaning up before walking out. You spot Jenna and make your way over to her.

“Let me walk you out,” you offer with a smile.

“Sure,” she accepts, grateful for the company.

After a few minutes of walking, Jenna breaks the silence. “Your latest movie is a total hit. You must be so proud.”

“I am, thanks. It was a lot of work, but it was worth it to see how well the movie was received.”

You both continue to stroll in silence, the silence only broken by the chill of the night air seeping through your clothes.

But it doesn't last long before Jenna speaks up again. She stops in her tracks and turns to face you. “Thank you, Y/N,” she says. “Thank you for everything.”

You can only manage a small nod in response, unable to put into words what you feel.

Just as you're about to head out, the sound of a car honking catches your attention. 

“That's him.” Jenna turns towards the parking lot, where an attractive guy is waiting for her. You watch as she runs over to him, burying her face in his chest as she wraps her arms around him.

She turns back to you and gives you a look that says everything. You wave goodbye one last time, a small smile etched on your lips.

Even if things didn't work out between the two of you, the connection is still there. You remember the journey you've had together, grateful for the part you've played in her life. 

[aleenuhs]

heyyy can I request something where sadie and female r get into an argument, and sadie says something really hurtful that causes r to run away in tears. fluffy ending pls!

⋆Soft Spot

thank u xx

warnings: sadie is a bit toxic, she's rude to reader but then she makes up for it, fluff, crying, angst, slight cursing, reader referred to as "girl" and some other petnames, reader is sensitive, implied enemies to lovers

word count: 1.5k

Sadie wasn't one to know how to control her words and what they meant, so when she was angry, it was a different story. This time, you got the short end of the stick, and she was angry at you.

You, Sadie, John, and a few others had just gotten back from a botched bank mission and Sadie blamed you for the way it went, claiming that you screwed up your little act that John suggested you do as a distraction. You all had escaped just by a hair, the law was right on your guys's tails.

When you got back, she took you to your shared tent and sat you down, then paced around before she spoke, hand on her chin, face an angry red.

"You--" She spoke, her words cut short as she thought on how to word this. She was that angry to where she couldn't speak.

"I'm sorry Sadie, I didn't mean to mess up that bad..." You stammered, and she scoffed at your effort. Sometimes she could be so angry, so mean, but so lovable at the same time. She could love you, then be angry at you for days on end if you messed up.

But you got used to it as those lines blurred, you just walked on your tippy toes around her, in a worry that if you mess up, she'll leave.

"We asked one thing of ya', and you just had to screw that up too, huh?" She had a tone, one that indicated she could only progressively get worse from here on out. You sat there on the cot and watched her clench her fists and teeth, her breathing was rapid and her face flushed red. You looked down at your hands, then you could hear a sigh come out of her mouth. "Couldn't you have done better, no?" She asked, you hoped it was a rhetorical question because you were too afraid to respond.

"Answer me. Couldn't you have saved this from going to shit, girl?" She got closer to you, almost as if to speak down to you, like you were a child, like you meant nothing.

The truth was you tried, but it didn't work, and that's what really messed the job up. A man came up to you and started to get touchy feely with you when he heard your pleas for help outside the bank. You started to get scared, and ran inside, exposing what the others were doing.

"I... Yes, I could've." You blurted out, scared, holding yourself. Its like she was purposefully provoking you, to get a rise out of you.

Sadie clicked her tongue.

"Y'make me hurt," She murmured out and then cursed under her breath. "Go." She said louder this time, and you didn't budge.

"I'm sorry, I can make it up to you, please." You said almost silently but desperately, in order to make Sadie happy with you again, you sounded incredibly desperate, but it was all or nothing, and you couldn't loose her.

You realize that not even John was angry at you, and if he was, he wasn't this angry.

Maybe you were sensitive, as a little girl, that's what most people called you. Your father was a bit harder on you, and your mom didn't even try to discipline you. You were laughed at because of how easily you cried when being yelled at.

You had an incredibly easy-to-find soft spot, and every time it made you seem lesser than the person yelling at you.

It lead you to think that messing up was this horrible thing, all you could do was apologize and hope they wouldn't get angry at you. Hence this, you'd mentioned it to Sadie, and here she was.

When she realized you weren't moving, she got a bit more vocal. "Can't you hear me?" She said angrily, "I don't want you to act all fuckin' stupid and clueless like you usually are, go!" She yelled over your attempt to apologize, and you're sure that whoever was around heard it. How forceful it was, how it made your nose burn and tears enter your eyes, It wasn't a sob, they were silent tears. You angrily wiped them away, getting up and running off. You could feel someone staring at you as you ran out, and it was embarrassing.

You ran to the nearby river bank and sat down, hiding your face, sobbing loudly. Your tears dampening your pants as your legs came to your chest, the hot sun beating on your exposed neck, making you uncomfortable all around.

You loved Sadie so much, and you knew she loved you too, but it hurt to love her so much.

Meanwhile, Sadie sat on the cot, thinking about what she'd said to you. Thinking about it deeply. She remembered how scared you looked, and how you mentioned the treatment you were dealt when you were just a little girl.

You needed someone, and she felt like a jerk for not being that for you. For scolding you like like a bad dog. She could feel the anger washing off of her, being replaced with regret and hate for what she just did to you, how she yelled at you without a care in the world. What made her feel worse was how easily she could treat you like shit.

She got up and put on her brown hat and walked out in a search to find you and apologize to you.

After minutes of trying to find you, she sees you balled up, crying by the river bank. She stands over you, watching you for a moment before she kneels down and puts her hand on your shoulder, rubbing it ever so slightly.

"Darlin'," she speaks softly, a contrast from her usual voice.

You didn't dare look at her, not even move, you wiped away your tears, you can hear her start to speak but then retire. "I.. er, I'm sorry." She mumbled out, and you could tell she was trying, but not yet would you give it up to her.

"I jus' wanna hear ya.. please talk to me, honey." She sounded desperate, and at once, the tables were turned. She leans her head against your shoulder, slightly nudging you. "Can you just look at me, please?" She begged, a slight tremble in her words, but her accent still clearer than day.

You slowly rose your head from between your legs and looked up at her. It all hit her at once, she felt like the bad guy, like the shitty person. But you still didn't speak to her, instead you let her do the talking.

"Will you forgive me? I know I messed up real bad. I remember what you told me 'bout your parents- how they treated you."

"That man was getting weird with me and you still take it out on me, I don't know Sadie." You admitted, and she nodded seeing where her faults lie.

"Yeah. I know this ain't your fault, it never was." She put her hand behind your neck and brung you closer as you two sat on the grassy area, she stroked your hair, trying to soothe you, she could feel you shake a bit. Sadie never understood how hurtful her words could really be, until now. "m'too hard on you," she said softly, grabbing for your hand and taking it, rubbing your knuckles. "I need to learn to love you better."

You nod and look at her, your watery eyes clearing up, but it's not like you weren't still hurt by her words, that was a given. But the way she looked at you made your heart hurt, you knew she meant it. "Yeah," was all you could muster out.

"Come here," she said, her arms were open for you. "Please?" She watched as you look at her and hesitate for a moment before you hugged her. She pulled you into her lap and hugged you tightly. "I'm sorry." She repeated again.

"I know," you said, nodding.

"Can I kiss you?" She said, in an attempt to make you feel better.

You nod and the tears start to fall again, and you feel bad. She kisses your cheek and softly speaks, "don't cry." She reaches up and wipes away the tears that stained your cheeks, using her thumb to wipe them off your lips and she pulls you in so she can kiss you. You feel like a mess.

It made you feel slightly better, the way she was trying, and that was all it took. She hugged you like you were all she had, and really, you were. When you two first met, you couldn't stand her, and she couldn't stand you, but somehow it's what brought you two together. You don't exactly remember how she ended up loving you, but you knew she was the first to fall and since then, it's been a ride with her.

You do remember that you tripped her up one time after she took all your coffee beans, and another time you got her back by eating her food that was meant for her, and she got angry, but it made you happy to see her angry.

Now, you were in her arms and she was comforting you. Neither of you could ever imagine hating each other again, even when stuff like this happened.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note:  hey guys! it's me, like wayyyy too many months later but i did promise i would post it this year even if it's like next year in a few hours but here it is!

masterlist

oh oh i'm falling in love, oh no i'm falling in love again, oh, i'm falling in love i thought the plane was going down how'd you turn it right around

Y/N stared in disbelief at the Sergeant, not entirely sure if she had heard him correctly. Maybe it was the Scotch. Could Scotch go bad, could it expire? Sure old Scotch was better than a recent one but surely there was some sort of limit as to how long a liquid can sit lost in time until it gives you some sort of poisoning. Surely malt and water couldn't last forever without causing some sort of illness or hallucination which would explain why Bucky Barnes had just told her he loved her. Or maybe he told her that he loathed her, that would make more sense.

      - I'm sorry, I think I didn't hear it right ... What did you say? - she asked and Bucky swore she was trying to kill him or maybe embarrass him. However, his ego was high on the three glasses of Scotch he already had.

      - I said I loved you.

      - You love me? - what else was there to ask. Maybe she was mishearing him again, yet it came more of a disbelief rambling rather than the question she meant it to be.

      - Yes. - he said, moving closer to her, his eyes more interested in the shade of her lips rather than her eyes which were sure to bring any grown men to their knees. - I love you, I really, really like you Y/N.

      - Like a friend?

Had Y/N been anyone else Bucky would've probably laughed and had Bucky been anyone else Y/N would hide in her bedroom until he disappeared. Things were ... different, she guessed. It felt different to hear it from him, different than when she heard it from Christopher or her first boyfriend or the first guy she ever liked. It felt unsure in the way which she didn't know how to reply, she didn't know when to reply. It was a mature and immature feeling, threading almost along the line of paradoxical. It was if the feeling itself verified her madonna persona yet tempted the whore which laid under, the temptress. It was both tempting and comforting for something that was so out of her reasonable comfort zone.

      - No, not like a friend. - he was close enough she could smell the remnants of his cologne, the scent of scotch in his breathe. - I love you like lovers do.

      - Is that what we are? Lovers?

      - Are you ever not questioning me?

      - It's a fair question, isn't it? - she raised her brow almost in defiance and moved closer, tempting him further. - I thought you liked my questions.

Bucky rolled his eyes before his hands grabbed her hips and moved her closer so their noses touched. They stared into each others eyes for what felt like a while, the mere sound of the wind brushing through the trees outside sounding like electricity until he made his move, moving closer until their lips collided. As if they'd done , they move closer to each other, their bodies pressing together in a heated embrace. Their lips meet in a passionate, lustful kiss, and the world around them fades away as they lose themselves in the moment. She pulled away, biting her lip almost in a painfully shy manner.

      - I should go back upstairs. I have to take Sadie to school tomorrow. - she cleared her throat, wiping her cheeks as if she could wipe the heat of her cheeks.

      - Of course. - Bucky moved away as she got up from the couch. - Hey, I can take her if you want to sleep. It's fine, I can go to the office later.

      - It's fine, it's my job. Uh ... good night, Sergeant.

She ran up the stairs like an embarrassed school girl, almost tripping on the bottom of her pyjama trousers, and rushed into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. What was she doing? She couldn't make out with her boss, that went against her contract ... I mean, it wasn't like there was a clause stipulating she couldn't make out with Bucky yet it was still highly unprofessional. He was her boss, her very attractive, tall and rugged handsome boss ... but her boss. Her boss who was sometimes unprofessional himself, he had even inserted himself into the Christopher situation. Still, she was a professional and a professional doesn't make out with her boss.

She laid down in bed with a huff, staring at the lights in the ceiling of her bedroom. Did Bucky had the same lights in his ceiling? He probably did, this was his house after all. The same house she was living in for free, the same house of the man who paid her a really good salary.

      - Y/N? - a knock on her door interrupted her mind's rambling. She got up and opened to see Bucky staring at his feet. - I wanted to apologise if I made you feel uncomfortable, it was unprofessional on my part.

      - No, no, it's my fault too, I mean ... I kissed you back. - she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

      - Please don't apologise, I should've known better but it's damn good scotch, which isn't really an excuse. - he started rambling himself, looking at her like a high schooler would look a girl he really wanted to take on a date. It was cute. - Maybe we shouldn't drink more scotch.

      - Yeah, you're probably right.

He shrugged playfully before turning to go to back to his bedroom before he could do anything else he would regret, however, Y/N was still very much considering whether she should do something that she could regret tomorrow.

      - Sergeant Barnes? - she called after him, almost in a faint whisper so his daughter wouldn't wake up. - Are you gonna ask me out?

      - Excuse me?

      - You said you loved me. Are you gonna ask me out?

      - Do you want me to ask you out? - he smirked, crossing his arms.

      - I'm not gonna answer that question. - she met him in the middle with an equal smirk. - I wasn't the one who said I love you.

      - Yeah but I wasn't the one asking the boss to ask her out.

      - Ask me out, Barnes.

      - Is that an order?

Bucky was close, close enough she could see the smile lines resulting from and she couldn't help herself, she didn't want to help herself. She kissed him, her hand placed on the back of his neck as they kissed. It wasn't soft or sensual, it was needy, as if they would cease to exist. She pulled him towards her bedroom, her hands grabbing at his jumper to pull it over his head. She had heard he was very well built and she had caught glances of him shirtless before but seeing it so up close, every defined muscle, the texture of his skin made her want to scold herself for not having looked harder the other times.

      - I don't think I've been in this bedroom for this long. - he pulled her shirt over her head as he looked around the bedroom. It was her bedroom after all and she wasn't in the mood to usually let him inside to see anything. - Or seen you shirtless this long.

      - Do you ever stop talking? - Bucky smiled and looked at her.

His hands wandered down to her hips and his thumbs lightly brushed over her hips. He pinned her against the door, his leg between hers as he pressed himself closer to her. His lips drew a pattern from behind her ear to her collarbone, his fingers snapping her bra strap against her skin.

      - Do you know how long I've waited for this? - he chuckled as he felt her body close to his, the shape of her breasts pressed against his chests and the sweet nothings of the moans she was trying to keep from escaping. - You've been tempting me since the moment you walked through my door.

He chuckled as she held in a gasp, his body moving closer and closer to her. He turned her around, kissing her hard again and threw her in the body, covering her uncovered body with kisses as he massaged her skin. She felt him slide his hands just a bit further down, kissing and softly bitting her skin. The feelings are overwhelming and the mere foreplay of kissing and massaging is sending shivers down her body. Everything about him was making her go crazy.

      - Bucky, please. - he smiled and he kissed back as he let his fingers move down a just little lower. He leaned in and nuzzled into her more.

His thumb pressed over her clit just over her cotton white underwear, rolling it in small and torturously slow motions making her moan. The fabric moistened under his finger making him smirk as he extended his neck to kiss hers.

      - You're so wet. - he chuckled as he kissed down her legs and to the laced hem of her underwear. - You wanted me just as much as I wanted you.

      - Wait, what are you doing? - she cupped his face, pulling him up.

      - I'm gonna eat you out, baby. What does it look like?

      - I've never had anyone do that to me before so maybe we could skip it?

      - Christopher didn't eat you out? - he chuckled. - No wonder you're so wound up over some over the underwear play. No one is treating you right.

      - You really wanna talk exes?

      - If you let me eat you out, you won't regret it. - he looked at her waiting for her consent. Y/N weighed out the options and the benefits, mostly considering her memories of when Sadie was at her grandmother's and Bucky brought in flavour of the month Samantha and for the whole week Y/N could hear nothing but loud moaning. She wanted the loud moaning as well so she nodded her head.

Bucky grinned like a devil, kissing down her collarbone all the way to the hem of her underwear. His hands slide inside her underwear, pulling it down her legs and throwing it somewhere into the floor. He kissed the side of her knee, the 2 day old stubble of his unshaved beard burning the skin in a very good manner. His kisses continued down her knee to her calf as he placed her legs on his shoulders and lowered down to her heat. Bucky swore in that moment he could happily die in the middle of her legs happily surrounded by her scent. He kissed and bit the inside of her thighs, definitely leaving marks which would make sure she would never forget. His thumbs spread her wide open and his head fully lowered now, his tongue licking a long yet slow strip up to her clit. The sensation was new for sure, it was nothing like what she had ever felt before and as she was learning to adapt to the new feelings his tongue was causing, he starting suckling on her clit, his tongue ever so slightly teasing the top of it. She gasped in a moan, her hands gripping at his hair.

      - Bucky! - she said in between shallow breathes bringing him immense enjoyment that he was causing her. He started eating her out like a starved man, her fluids coating his chin and neck as he went in for another lick before he started to use his fingers. Her nails gripped the sheets.

      - Chris didn't treat you like this? - he came back up biting the side of her knee. - I bet not, which is why you're so wet.

      - Go back. - she almost pouted and Bucky couldn't say no. He went back down and started suckling on her clit while his fingers pumping in and out of her hole. Her fingers tightened around the sheets and on his hair and she started to see black spots in her vision, she attempted to control her breathe but found herself unable to do so as Bucky's mouth and fingers brought her to orgasm.

Her back fully hit the mattress and she stared at the lights in her bedroom with her mouth softly open as her breathes came out softly. Bucky kissed his way up to the corner of her mouth before fully kissing her, his knee rubbing against her core. She whimpered, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.

      - You're good? - he asked, kissing the side of her head.

      - I'm good. - her hands made their way to the top of his sweats, trying to pull them down.

      - Someone's needy. - he grinned as he helped her shake him out of his sweats and underwear. He grabbed her thighs and put her in positions before grabbing his cock and lining it up with her entrance. He looked into her eyes once more looking for reassurance before he sheathed himself inside her, groaning as he did so. Her legs wrapped around his hips, helping him bottom out as he leaned towards her to kiss her once more. - Can I move, baby?

      - Yes, please.

His hips moved ever so slightly making her moan which was a sign for him to move. His hand held hers and he began to thrust in and out, his balls hitting her bottom as he did. He drowned her moans with a kiss, moving again fast enough to make the headboard hit the wall. The bedroom filled up with their moans and the smell of sex as she reached the her last orgasm of the night. Once Bucky felt her release, he began chasing his own, throwing his head back and groaning. He finished inside of her, ropes of white spilling out from her hole and in the sheets.

He fell to her side and smiled, merely happy to look at the sight of her before the two fell asleep.

(...)

She woke up next morning to the faint chatter and laughter downstairs. She rubbed her eyes, looking at the state of the room. Memories came rushing to her and she couldn't help but slightly smiled as she wrapped herself in her robe and made her way downstairs. Sadie was dressed and was sat at the table eating pancakes while Bucky was nursing a cup of coffee.

      - Daddy did your hair, huh? - she said to Sadie as she reached her, noticing her lobbed ponytail. She took the scrunchie off and started to plaid the hair.

      - Thank you! - she said through the food she was eating.

      - Sleep well? - Bucky asked as he hid a smirk behind his coffee cup.

      - I did, did you? Sore? - she asked as she grabbed a cup of coffee herself. - You look a bit blushed still, Sergeant.

      - Are you busy this afternoon?

      - Depends.

      - Reservations downtown at 7?

taglist: @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82 @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx @stinkerbelle007 @maybefoxysouls @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @chipilerendi @kandis-mom @belennasif @abitofblues @feddefy

[immajustvibehere]

Amidst a Crashing World (5/5)

Paring: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: The life at your cabin after the train heist...

tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no tb-Arthur, literally love redemption, no smut (probably), "slow burn"

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

reminder that d/n stands for whatever name you chose to give your female dog

6800 words

It took Sadie and Arthur a while to shake the Pinkertons after freeing Abigail in Van Horn. They rode fast and un-coordinated, not paying much attention to the direction they were heading to. As long as there weren’t any gunshots fired from that direction, they urged their horses to go at a decent speed.

A few more minutes after the last shot had been whizzed past Arthur’s ear, they slowed down their horses.

"Ladies! Hold up a moment!", Arthur holstered his gun and jumped off Sadie's horse. In their hurry to flee the Trading Post, Sadie and Abigail had mounted on Arthur’s horse.

"Arthur”, Sadie complained immediately, “There's no time.”

"There's time", Arthur huffed. The man turned towards Abigail, beckoning her to jump down in his arms. Abigial hesitated, feeling the uneasiness of the situation. Her question cut the air sharper than the bullets had done.

"What happened to John? Where's John?", she inquired. Though her voice was strong, there was an underlying quiver that revealed her fearing the answer.

Arthur couldn't bring himself to respond right away, but his eyes prompted Abigail to jump off the horse.

"He-", Arthur mumbled, "I don't- I don't know."

Abigail stuttered a few incoherent words, not sure what to say, ask or think.

"He got shot off the train. I sent y/n after him, but I don't know if...", Arthur swallowed.

He didn't know if either of you had made it. Even if you had taken the fall well, there was no guarantee that the law hadn’t killed you, or Micah. He also wasn’t sure if you had retrieved John and if he had survived in the first place. There were simply too many variables he wasn’t aware of and couldn’t account for.

"No", Abigail wailed. Sadie now jumped off the horse too, gripping its reins with a sad expression.

"I don't know if they made it", Arthur finally admitted aloud, swallowing thickly.

"We can just...", Sadie started but interrupted herself, "It makes no sense to start wondering. Jack and Tilly are safe, and they should be at the cabin by now."

Sadie was way more collected than Arthur and Abigail were. The latter just looked at each other as if already in mourning. Sadie put the reins of Arthur’s horse in his hands, then walked over to hers and mounted it. Abigail climbed on its back a moment later, leaving Arthur standing next to his horse, looking unsure.

"Come on, let's ride", Sadie suggested.  

He hesitated.

He felt the urge to ride back to camp. To confront Dutch with what he had just learned from Milton, that Micah had been the rat all along. It was foolish, but he wanted revenge, wanted to kill Micah. And then there was the wish to just head West and not look back. Abigail and Sadie would reunite with Tilly and Jack.

Part of him didn't want to know if John or you had made it. It would hurt way too much to learn that both or either of you had died.

Arthur watched the setting sun, lazily petting his horse’s neck.

If it wasn't for Sadie, whose voice cut through the silence with: "Arthur. They're waiting" he might have really gone back to camp, or West. However, Sadie looked at him determined, as if she never doubted that you would wait for him at the cabin. Abigail looked queasy and sad, tears running down her cheek. But even for Abigail, Sadie’s calm and certainty was somewhat ensuring.

"Okay", Arthur huffed and mounted his horse.

When you saw Sadie and Abigail ride up the path to your cabin, you pulled yourself up. Your body ached and the more you moved, the more difficult it was to breath. As quickly as your bruised body would allow, you limped towards them. Your heart sank the closer you got, and you still saw only one horse. One damn horse with Sadie and Abigail.

But when there were only a couple of yards left and the clouds dispersed, revealing the moon, the other horse came into view. You recognized the familiar silhouette that only lacked its signature hat.

A wave of relief washed over you and for a second you thought you might faint, wasn’t it the anticipation and fear that had prevented you from falling unconscious – or asleep – earlier. You locked eyes with Arthur and limped faster towards him before Abigail’s voice cut you off.

" Is John-", she almost choked on a sob and her voice sounded meek, as if she had been crying for hours straight.

"Snoring like a pig", you replied quickly, before you collected yourself and halted next to Sadie's horse. Abigail must have been even more worried about her boys that you had been about Arthur, so you forced a smile on your lips and said calmly: "He's fine. He 'n Jack are sharing a bed. They're both okay."

Abigail began to cry again. Happy tears, clearly. Sadie rode up to the fence of your garden and dismounted with Abigail, who couldn’t wait to get into your cabin. Arthur and you remained behind.

He jumped off his horse and for a little while, you starred at each other as if trying to figure out if all of this was a dream. What were the odds of you having fallen asleep after nursing John and now you were dreaming of Arthur’s return. The blood splattered across his jacket looked awfully real though.

He was the first to break the silence and the eye contact.

"Lost my hat, did ya?", Arthur commented dryly, clearing his throat and knowing damn well that those weren't appropriate words for the reunion.

"It's in the hou- damn you, Arthur!", you wailed. You had tried to supress your anger about the fact that the man threw you off a speeding train. Had you remained on the train, crouching behind those wooden crates, your body might resemble more Swiss cheese than then the living and bruised shell you had to put up with at the moment. Still, he could have given a warning. He could have let you jump instead of pushing you.

Would you’ve been brave enough to jump on your own? Probably not, but still. There was a good chance that either of you wouldn’t survive this, so this definitely hadn’t been an appealing good-bye.

Arthur was leading his horse by the reins, his other hand found the small of your back and with this gentle connection, you walked towards the cabin.

"'m sorry, darlin'", the man apologized. He gave you a tried smile and by the way his eyes glistened, you could tell that he probably had been just as worried about you.

Abigail had long gone in, but Sadie was still busy with her horse, unloading weapons and provisions.

You wondered how secretive the relationship the two of you lead was still supposed to be, but you didn’t much care, as you pulled Arthur into a hug. For fearing that you’d never be able to do that, it was quite a relief to bury your fingers in his sweaty and dirty shirt. He reciprocated the hug and pressed you closer, which hurt so badly that you couldn’t breathe for a second. But it felt worth it.

"Didn't hurt ya too much, did I?", Arthur inquired, peeling you off him to have a proper look at you at scan for injuries.

"No", you lied, not feeling like explaining or handling more his guilt. He might have noticed how pressed your "no" sounded, how it was almost like wheezing, but he didn't ask any further.

"What's the plan for tonight?", Sadie's voice interrupted the moment you and Arthur shared. Still, Arthur’s heavy hands remained on your shoulder where he had put them to inspect you.

"I'll hide the horses in the forest. It's safe as long as they stay close to the cabin and if anyone comes by, they won't suspect that the cabin is packed with high bounty degenerates", you explained.

Sadie acknowledged you suggestion with a nod, before it was arranged that you and Arthur would keep watch for the rest of the night. You agreed a little reluctantly to this, because your body screamed for some sleep and recovery, but it would give you moments alone with Arthur, and somehow you needed this even more. Sadie retired into the cabin to put her bedroll wherever she'd find a free spot. It surely was crowded by now, but you didn't want to check. You remained outside with Arthur.

You settled in front of the house on the lawn. The night was warm, probably one of the last summer nights you'd get before fall would make the darkest hours wet and cold. For a while, neither of you said anything.

It was only after a while that you began to fill each other in on what happened.

Finally, you mumbled: "Sorry…for all of it."

Arthur had spent most of his life following a man who had turned into a lunatic, trusting the advice of a madman and betraying the two people he had once called his sons. You had sympathy for how Arthur must feel.

"Ain't yer fault", Arthur replied.

He was slouching, his fingers drawing circles into the dirt.

"Still…", you sighed. Mentally, you had been done with the gang when you left them a year ago. Part of you already knew you wouldn't return on your own accord, but Arthur’s case was different. Hadn't it turned out the way it did…he would have stayed. Even if it meant going down with the gang.

"'s okay, I think, in the end, we did our best", Arthur said.

He looked at you, and his eyes spoke books. Without you, Arthur thought, he might not have helped all those people. If he hadn't admitted returned to you after Guarma, admitting that that he had been thinking of you,…if he hadn't been confronted with the knowledge that he could still love somebody,…this all might not have been worth it for him. You had assured him that he could always return to your place, and he couldn’t decline that offer. You had always made him feel at home, even though he might not have been deserving of your hospitality at first.

"Aw shit, I almost forgot", you pulled out Mary's letter from your pocket, it was all crumpled up, "I saw it on your table today morning and I- I didn't know if you had read it yet….it might be important or something…" you mumbled your last words.

You had been mad at Arthur for throwing you off the train. The hours between nursing John and waiting for Arthur were a rollercoaster of being angry and being worried. You had thought about reading the letter or burning it. But you reflected that if you had as much as a few lines written by Arthur when you had left camp all heartbroken, you would have cherished them like a treasure. So, who were you deny an already betrayed man some words from a former lover. Despite it making your stomach turn a little.

Arthur took the letter with a straight face, but from the little twitch on his cheek you knew that he had felt it as soon as he grabbed it. He turned the letter around and a gold ring fell into his palm.

For a while, Arthur stared at it, a little shocked, only a small "oh" escaping his lips. Then he put it into his pocket and held the letter out to you.

"Wanna read it?", his voice was hoarse and a little weak.

"What?", you ask confusedly, "No? I guess. Why?"

"Jus' askin’…", Arthur shrugged and then he threw it into your small camp fire. It was burning when you asked: "What was it about?" of course, assuming he had read it.

"I don't know", Arthur admitted with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"What?", you stared at him in shock, "You didn't read it?"

"No."

"Why would you then-", you looked at the black, crumbling outlines of the paper. Even if you had risked burning your fingers, there was only a small corner of the paper left where the writing was still readable. After you had finished the thought, even this corner had crumbled to ashes.

 “Oh you bastard!”, you complained, the curiosity now getting the better of you, “Why didn't you say so! I would have read it! I thought you knew what she wanted!!"

Arthur was amused at your hysteria and shook his head, mumbling a " I don't getchu women" but then he gave a proper reply: "Sending me back the ring I gave her, says all I need to know. She never sent it back, even when she got married…'s in the past now. It doesn't matter, y/n."

You nodded, calming yourself a little as you realized Arthur’s sullen mood.

"Will ya give me a minute?", he asked.

He waited patiently for your "'course", before he stood up and walked off.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when Arthur came back, but you had laid down, stretching your tired limbs in an attempt to get more air into your lungs. Your ribcage still hurt from the fall, and you suspected that you might have cracked a rib or two, but there wasn't anything you could do about it. You heard Arthur's steps coming around the house again, you tried to sit up without grunting in pain.

When Arthur appeared, you leaned against your cabin wall as casually as you managed, looking up to the man. He gave you a sad smile. He just stood there awkwardly, looking at you briefly before his eyes went off into the distance, scanning the night for anything unusual. Finally, you asked: "Do you want a smoke?"

Arthur drawled his casual "Sure" and took one cigarette from the package you held out to him. You were still trying to find your matchbox, when you heard the man strike a match on his boot and lighting the stick. He took one big drag and you couldn’t stop thinking about how handsome he looked, the light of the small flames barely reaching his face and making the shadows dance. It was only a brief moment. The intense orange glow of the flame extinguished as Arthur threw the match into the campfire.  

Arthur sat down next to you – right next to you, so your bodies were touching. After another drag, he handed the cigarette to you.

The both of you finished it together in silence. Even though he didn’t say anything, Arthur counted three yawns that you tried to supress as the cigarette wandered between you.

“Get some rest”, he offered in a hushed voice.

“I’m on guard duty with you”, you shook your head. It pained you to refuse the offer, but you didn’t want Arthur to stay awake on his own. Not after the day he has had. “I’m gonna walk around a little”, you added, forcing yourself on your aching feet.

The darkness swallowed you soon enough, but Arthur stayed put by the cabin. You walked around, going to a cliff and kept your eyes open for riders or lights in the distance that would hint at Pinkerton search parties. But everything was quiet and dark.

Quarter of an hour later, you dropped next to Arthur again. The words for today seemed to run dry and you realised your eyelids becoming heavier.

When you slouched and dropped against his shoulder, Arthur glanced at your sleeping body. From this minute forward, he tried to move as little as possible, though an earthquake wouldn’t have woken you.

The first day at the cabin was chaotic. You were the only one who could make a supply run, since your face wasn’t necessarily connected to the gang, so you took your horse and rode off to the nearest farm to get some food and d/n. It was decided that having a dog around would not only cheer the mood a little and distract Jack but was also additional security and a great help for you and Arthur, who agreed to take night watch.

Aside from your trip, the day consisted of hunting, fishing, and cooking. Soon, part of your garden was stacked with hay to feed the five horses that were lazily grazing in the forest behind the cabin. There was no “taking a meal together” or having a group discussion about how plans, as people entered and left the house constantly. Sadie was on patrol; you took Jack to the pond to fish, and when you returned, Arthur had gone off to hunt some rabbits. John alternated between the house and the garden, seeking the quieter spot. For him, the first day was mostly about resting, because he complained about his aching shoulder.

In the afternoon, Arthur fell asleep under a tree and with John seated at the table for a late lunch, you took the opportunity to lie down in bed and catch a few more hours of sleep.

It got quieter after the sun had set. Only you and Arthur were seated outside the cabin, again lighting a small campfire to keep you company through the night.  

“I’ve been looking forward to this”, you sighed and briefly closed your eyes.

“Stayin’ awake all night?”, Arthur huffed jokingly.

You didn’t open your eyes but whispered: “Spending some time with you. Alone.”

You felt Arthur’s gaze drilling holes into you. Still savouring the crackling of the fire with your eyes closed, you were startled by the touch of a larger hand on yours, which had been resting in the cool grass.

“’s that okay?”, Arthur mumbled after taking a few seconds to process his own move.

You nodded while opening your eyes, looking at a rather flustered man.

“More than okay”, you told him. The smile on your lips calmed him down.

…

“So, nothing has changed, huh?”, Tilly grinned at you.

The both of you sat leaned against the fence in the sun. Tilly had been reading, and so were you. But since Arthur had started to chop wood, your brain made the letters in front of you blur. Tilly had picked up on the occasional glance you casted towards Arthur.

“What do you mean?”, you asked curiously.

“You and Arthur. You still like him”, Tilly stated. Tilly had known about your crush ever since you had started to develop feelings for him…and seeing that was years ago, her statement held some truth.

A hint of a smile worked its way onto your lips: “Yeah. But this time I think he just might like me back.”

Tilly nodded, “Mary-Beth and I talked about this. Even before we knew that he found you, we suspected that he might have found someone. And we prayed that it wasn’t this Mary Linton all over again.”

“No, he actually burnt the letter-“, you started but were interrupted by Tilly: “He’s watching us!”

When you looked up, Arthur’s eyes were already on you. He had loaded some of the split logs under his arm, the sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Where do you want the wood, Miss y/n?”, Arthur asked with slightly raised voice, so you’d hear him properly.

“Behind the house is fine. Wait, I’ll help”, you were about to stand up when Arthur made you halt: “You better rest! Ya didn’t sleep well last night.” He chuckled warmly and stalked off to the firewood pile behind the house.

Tilly grinned mischievously: “So that’s what you do on guard duty? Sleeping? And he watched over you, apparently.”

You gulped down your embarrassment. It had been impossible to keep your eyes open last night, though the nightmares were a bit of a downer and had roused you again and again. Arthur had been awake, mumbling some reassuring words and once, you weren’t quite sure if it had been a dream or not, put a strand of hair behind your ear, that had annoyingly tickled your nose.  

…

Around ten that night, you and Arthur settled on your positions outside the house. The rain had been drizzling down for the last two hours, but Sadie had helped you set up a cozy little fort in the garden. A canvas tarp stretched a spot big enough for you and Arthur to lie under comfortably without getting wet and shielding you from the light wind that might have blown the rain into your faces. Instead of a campfire, two lanterns flickered on either side of you, casting everything in a soft glow. And because of the afternoon’s lack of sunshine, the damp and cold soil had prompted you to lay down plenty of straw, creating a dry barrier between you and the wet ground.  

Neither of you spoke until minutes had passed after the last noise had come from inside the cabin. Then you sighed: “Nobody’s going to find us here, right?”

You hadn’t seen any Pinkertons or law ever since arriving at the cabin, not even far in the distance, so you were feeling quite confident that it would stay that way.

“I guess”, Arthur agreed with a chuckle, grabbing a bottle of gin “better that way. Tilly and Sadie will probably be leaving tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’ve heard.”

Because there was no law in sight, everyone had decided it was probably safe for them to leave. Your little cabin was simply too crowded to go on living like this for long. The amount of food needed to feed six adults, a child, five horses and a dog put additional strain on everyone’s nerves. Everybody had agreed that this wouldn’t be sustainable in the long run and that they had to move on before the weather got too cold anyways.

“The Marstons might stay a little longer”, Arthur commented and when you only nodded in reply, he asked carefully if you were okay with that.

“What? Sure, why shouldn’t I?”, you asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“Jus’ checking. I don’t take you to…be the kind o’person to kick them out if they got on yer nerves”, he explained, a smile playing on his lips.

You snorted – but he was right. The nightly watches with Arthur together were something you’d come to enjoy. Even if it wasn’t for that, you weren’t sure if you would have kicked them out any time soon. Sure, John was bickering a lot and complaining about his injuries – which were healing perfectly – and sometimes kids can be exhausting, but still.

You thought aloud: “It’s good for Jack to stay a while. He’s been on the run with the gang since he was a baby. He’s safe here and he gets along with d/n.”

Arthur mumbled in agreement and the conversation lapsed into comfortable silence. You briefly looked at each other before you scooted closer and leaned against Arthur. The tickle of his beard against your forehead made you smile, a mix of cheer and calm washing over you.

“It’s time for a trim again”, you remarked with a smile, letting your fingers run through his beard. Arthur tolerated it without protest, well aware that you were officially his barber now and that he shouldn’t be reading too much into you scratching his chin.

“You just cut it barely two weeks ago”, he chuckled, amused by how much you seemed to enjoy yourself.

“Yeah, I just thought…”, you mumbled, “might get in the way while kissin’…”

You smiled innocently while Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes quickly locked onto yours and his gaze spoke volumes. It was easy to get lost in his eyes – you knew their colour perfectly well, though the dim light of the lanterns didn’t do them justice. And yet you saw the longing in his eyes, begging for an explanation. The man was yearning for another hint that it would be okay if he met his lips with yours right now. God, he hadn’t thought about much else the past nights. He kept telling himself that it was too soon and that he should hold back, just like you kept telling yourself to wait until the adrenaline of surviving the train heist had completely left your systems.

The suspense just lasted a moment too long so a “Woman, ya want me t’shave right now or…?” could leave Arthur’s lips before you closed the distance between you.

Your lips didn’t want to part. From the awkward side-leaning pose you shifted and scrambled, never breaking the kiss, until you were in a comfortable position. Arthur’s hands found your hips, and he pulled you onto his lap, eliciting some suggestive noises from you that made him forget there were people sleeping just behind the wall he leaned against.

Your hands were just as restless as his, raking through his hair, kneading his shoulders. When Arthur squeezed your sides and a weird-sounding groan escaped you, he paused for a moment. It pulled him out of the moment slightly, even though you were now rocking against his thighs. Arthur’s hands squeezed again and this time he caught your furrowed eyebrows. He hadn’t held you with a tight grip and he didn’t take you for the type to be overly sensitive, so your reaction threw him off enough that he pulled back, looking at you suspiciously.

It didn’t matter how suggestively his name rolled off your lips and how much you begged, when you tried to pull him closer again, Arthur held you at a distance, eying you.

“What’s wrong?”, Arthur asked with corcern.

“Nothing”, your eyes and senses felt dazed from making out, but since Arthur’s fingers were digging into your bruised rips, it became hard to keep a straight face. When he caught your expression of relief as he let go of your body, something made click for him and though it was unceremonious and blunt, he started to unbutton your blouse.

“A-Arthur, what-“, you stammered, trying to restrain his hands to no avail. He saw the bruises before even having reached the last button.

“Y/n…?”

Despite having all the time in the world, you hadn’t thought about an excuse yet. Trying to retreat from Arthur’s lap was met with his hands being placed on your thighs and holding you firmly in place. Only when you stopped struggling did one hand search for the lantern, lifting it to illuminate your torso.

“Jesus-“, Arthur groaned, his eyes widening at the sight of your bruised skin, “Why didn’t ya tell me?”

You tried to figure out the tone in Arthur’s voice. It must have been somewhere between disappointed and reprimand, but deep down, you knew he was feeling guilty – exactly what you had tried to avoid by not telling him.

“I didn’t want you to worry”, you admitted honestly.

Arthur’s voice dropped to a low murmur, a tone usually reserved for threatening people. Which made it even scarier when he used this ton to mumble to himself. “That was me…”, he grumbled as his fingertips ghosted over your bruises.

Arthur remembered this rush of uncertainty and anxiety after he had pushed you off that train. He should have warned you, should have told you to jump, hell, at least turned you around so you’d know when you’d hit the ground. He had stopped worrying after he saw you alive and fairly well; only to realise now that you’d put on an act for his sake.

“Yes”, you said firmly and gripped Arthur’s face with both of your hands, “You did what you had to do. I wouldn’t have jumped off that train, Arthur. I would have never jumped myself.”

Arthur met your gaze, his eyes now slightly wet and irritated. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as if he couldn’t grasp why you would ever justify him breaking your rips.

“They would have shot me off”, you added with a dead-serious face, “There’s no way I would have left you otherwise.”

“Still, I – I…”, Arthur stuttered, carefully closing the buttons of your blouse with shaky fingers.

“No. Stop it”, you interrupted, “I would have died on that train. You know it.”

Arthur closed your blouse without saying anything, then, when the silence became to deafening, he huffed: “So that’s why you snored like a monster the last couple o’nights. You couldn’t breathe.”

Your cheeks became warm and you crawled off Arthur’s lap as quickly as your tired body managed.

“I hate you, Arthur Morgan”, you mumbled, sitting down on your spot next to him, staring into the light of the lantern.

“I know ya don’t. Yer fool enough to like me…”, Arthur smiled carefully into your direction.

That much was true, you thought. Your heart grew when you remembered how quick he was with opening your blouse, how carefully he had touched your bruises. And then you remembered how you had even got into this situation. You had been in the middle of something!

When you swiftly looked up to Arthur, he read your intentions as if you had said your thoughts out loud.

“I know, darlin’…I want ya just as much”, he said bashfully, you almost saw a light blush on his cheeks, “but I don’t want to hurt yer any more.”

“You’re not going to. We can just-“

“You rest some”, Arthur interrupted in a tone that suggested there was no room for discussion. You sighed and lay down on your bedroll. Your dissatisfaction about how the night ended was clear to Arthur when he looked at you and saw a rather gloomy expression. He reached over to extinguish the lantern next to you.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere”, Arthur said, thinking this would be sufficient to address your worries, “we got plenty of time now.”

“Yeah”, you mumbled, not really believing it. Sadie and Tilly would leave tomorrow. The Marstons would probably leave in a week or two. You wondered if Arthur was going to leave. You heard from Sadie how hesitant he was to ride back to the cabin, and you knew that there was part of him that just wanted to head West, back to the open prairie with no civilization for miles on end. There was a chance he’d pick that life over the one you could offer him right here and thinking about that put an even heavier weight on your chest than you already felt.

You were too scared to admit it openly, so you just wondered in silence until you fell asleep.

The next day was spent with prepping and planning, trying to make out a secure route for the women to leave the area. Arthur, to your great dismay, hadn’t made it a secret that you had a cracked rip or two and Abigail held a lecture on hiding injuries. You were doomed to vegetable cutting and reading to Jack, stuck to the cabin and its garden.

Arthur and Abigail were the only ones who took your injuries dead-serious. When you tried to take a big pot out of a cupboard, Arthur appeared behind you and did the job for you. Tilly and John teased you relentlessly about it. John jokingly said that you shouldn’t move so much when you picked up a piece of carrot that had rolled on the floor.

“Jealous, Marston?”, you shot back, “Wish you’d still be coddled like that, huh?”

With Abigail’s focus on your injury, John had lost his status as person in need for care and he wasn’t exactly happy when he was called outside to feed and brush the horses, since one of his left arm was still pretty much useless.

With Tilly and Sadie gone, your bedroll finally moved inside again, and it was the first night where Arthur shared guard duty with John.

The days continued, a little quieter and not as crammed as those before. After one week, you started to enjoy living with this group of people. Your injuries healed well and at the end of the week, Abigail allowed you to take Jack fishing. Arthur and John, in the meanwhile, had started to work on a bigger bedframe. Your old one was still broken and wobbly and since Abigail and Jack shared the bed every night, a bigger one would come in handy. Nobody mentioned it explicitly – and you feared that you were the only one thinking it – but if Arthur were to stay with you, you were in desperate need for a bigger bed.

Three days later, you dared your first ride to Annesburg. After you had given everyone at the cabin a haircut, you decided it was time to catch up with your regulars in town. You used their gossip as a way of getting information regarding the Pinkertons, and apparently, they had left town. There wasn’t more valuable information than that they had left, and they had gone South, which you knew wasn’t a route that Sadie and Tilly picked.

Another two days passed before John and Abigail decided to pack their bags and move. Fall was in full swing by now and the leaves were dropping off the trees like crazy. They planned to head West and later South. On their last night, John and Arthur got drunk, and you joined in with pleasure.

The night was a blur of singing and yelling mundane stories at each other. After a couple swigs of whiskey, Arthur became more touchy, openly wrapping his arm around your waist. John watched this curiously, as you and Arthur had never been so affectionate in front of others. But you enjoyed the attention. The night was cut short when one of your funny stories about a client had John and Arthur make such a fuss, that Abigail stormed out of the cabin.

“Jack is trying to sleep! Shame on you John, we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow”, she scolded.

Arthur was in a good mood, so he stood up with a certain spring in his step: “Uh-oh, Marston! We’re gonna leave you to it!”

Arthur pulled you up with him and you stumbled out of the garden and into the woods for a nightly “patrol”…which was just a drunk walk on which you could laugh and scream without jeopardizing an innocent boy’s sleep. From telling jokes and drunk flirty banter, you quieted down after a while. Your arm snaked around Arthur’s to keep each other steady – and close.

After what felt like an hour of aimlessly wandering around were walking towards the cabin again, passing your little pond.

“Remember when I caught ya bathin’ in it?”, you recalled smugly.

“Sure”, Arthur grunted, walking up to the edge. You accompanied him, taking in the serene reflection of the moon in the water. The wind rustled the leaves in the woods behind you, sending tiny waves over the undisturbed surface. You knew there were fish sleeping down there. Suddenly, Arthur freed his hand from your grip and instead gripped your arm.

“How ‘bout we make it even?”, he said with a mischievous grin, giving you a gentle push.

You felt like you were about to topple over into the cold water, but Arthur’s grip on your arm was firm and stabilizing. The near fall left you with a wave of nausea and curses flowed from your lips like a waterfall.

“Ya son of a-“, Arthur was quick to interrupt you with a kiss.

You knew that John couldn’t see you from the cabin, even though you could spot the campfire in front of the house with the slim man sitting there. The moonlight wasn’t bright enough, and the distance was too big; he might only see two vague silhouettes, if he was even looking.

The kiss deepened and Arthur steered you away from the water until he met a tree. His hands had already slipped under your shirt as yours fingered his belt buckle, when he stopped and buried his face in your neck.

“No”, he complained, though you felt the grin on your skin, “I don’ wanna be drunk for this…”

“You sure this isn’t just an excuse because you don’t wanna hurt me”, you asked. Your sides were still bruised, though you felt significantly better and the pressure on your lungs had dissipated almost completely.

“That too”, Arthur admitted with a sigh, peppering the crook of your neck with kisses before pulling you into a hug, resting his chin on top of your head.

You were slightly disappointed, but bringing a little common sense into this, you knew that the forest wasn’t specifically the best place for sex. Especially drunk and with cracked bones. The hug lasted so long, you might have dozed off for a few seconds, but it was the rustling in the bushes that let both of your ears perk up. D/n came striding up to you, tail wagging and tongue out.

“Look who found us!”, Arthur exclaimed. He loved the dog. As soon as she appeared up, the hug ended and Arthur squatted down, dangerously swaying, to pet her.

“We should head back”, you suggested, “D/n’s probably alarming us ‘cause John fell asleep.”

And right you were. When you walked through the gate, you found John passed out and snoring.

The entire morning was spent getting a waggon ready for the Marstons, loading it with what supplies and money you still had. By lunchtime, they were all packed. It was a cool fall day. There were maybe three weeks left until you, so close to the mountains, would see the first snow. Everyone took their time saying good-bye. While John and Arthur went over the route one more time, you chatted with Jack. You had decided to gift him one of your favourite books. Though it was still way too difficult for him to read, you told him that eventually, he’d understand everything.

You hugged Abigail who thanked you again and again for going after John that night and for offering your place as hideout. While you were busy with bridling John’s horse in front of the waggon, you listened to Arthur’s and John’s conversation.

“Thank you, brother”, John shook Arthur’s hand affectionately.

“No need to thank me, couldn’t have done it alone”, and Arthur’s glance met yours for a moment.

“What are you gonna do now?”, John asked, climbing up the waggon to take his seat.

“Oh”, Arthur huffed, “Not sure yet. But I’ll see you again. You too, Abigail”, Abigail hugged Arthur who then helped her up on the waggon. You stepped aside, leaning against your fence. Nothing more needed to be said, and with kind nods, John spurred the horse on. Jack was busy waving good-bye to you and Arthur until he was so far in the distance, that you couldn’t properly make him out anymore.

“So…”, you swallowed thickly, knowing there was no way around the question anymore, “how long do you plan on staying?”

You stared in the distance, focusing on the trees, the sky…anything but Arthur who stared holes into you.

“Ya want me gone or something?”, he joked, lighting a cigarette.

“No!”, you looked at him earnestly, “I’ve just been wondering…’cause it should be save to leave…head West and all…”

“I’ll stay here. As long as ya’ll have me”, Arthur said, putting all the meaning behind those words. He could sense your anxiety, and he figured you had been anxious for the last couple of days, which explained all the funny and sad looks you had given him.

“I won’t kick you out”, you reaffirmed, not sure how to feel about Arthur’s statement yet.

“Good”, he chuckled, a puff of smoke escaping his lips, “…was kinda countin’ on that.”

 When he saw your still unsatisfied expression, he gave you a kind smile softly murmured your name. “I think I told ya before, but…I love ya.”

Ever since Arthur had returned with Sadie and Abigail from Van Horn and saw you alive, he had known that he’d stay right here with you. All his thoughts about leaving to go West, avoiding society that would eventually creep up those hills and maybe even reach your secluded cabin – all those thoughts paled in comparison to the feeling of being at home here with you. But Arthur realized that he might not have expressed that well enough for you to understand.

“’ve been a fool before, y/n. And I’m sorry for it”, Arthur sighed, “But if ya don’t mind…I’ll stay here as long as you’ll tolerate an old bastard like me.”

You chuckled at his words and realized that for the first time since falling from the train and crawling to collect John, the pressure on your chest was gone. It made you wonder if most of it had been your injury or your anxiety about the uncertainty of the relationship.

“Mhm”, you hummed, a relieved smile appearing your lips, “it’s gonna be real hard…but I think I can manage a couple of years.”

Arthur chuckled. He put his arm around you and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss onto your temple. You hugged him, inhaling the smoke and sweat off his jacked.

It was Arthur who breathed close to your ear, whispering: “Wanna head inside? There’s somethin’ I’ve been wanting to do for a damn while now…”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Thanks for the wait lmao and sorry for all the suggestive suspense, I can't write smut :)))

taglist: @photo1030

taglist for this series: @pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @twola @shiokitsune @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463 @yyiikes @renwai @walk-in-sunshine @rdrlady @ivybeeloved @trinswhimsys @reddedmiller @chiefqueefsosa @sauvignon-velvet @mrsarthurmorgan @readingcoco @pookiesnatcher @gloomdoomraccoon @nervousmumbling @pheesupremacy @destroyer-of-za-warudo @ratbrainbabycowboyprince @stray-npc

[outlawruben]

I love when quote generator is accurate here’s a few that I got:

Sean: Welcome to my very first vlog, in which I try different hair products!

Sean: *sprays hairspray in his mouth*

Sean: Well, right off the bat I can tell you this one is not very good.

—————

Dutch: If there are no questions, we'll move on to the next chapter.

Arthur: I have a question.

Dutch: Certainly, Arthur. What is it?

Arthur: What's the point of human existence?

Dutch: I meant any questions about the subject at hand.

Arthur : Oh.

Arthur: Frankly, l'd like to have the issue resolved before I expend any more energy on this

—————-

Dutch, to Hosea: Well, one of us has to be wrong and it's not going to be me.

—————-

Dutch: If you really want to get back at a man, scare him with a pregnancy test. I've got a whole box of old positives at my house.

Micah: You're an American treasure.

—————-

Arthur: I'm going to get myself some soup.

Hosea : Be careful not to burn yourself, it's hot.

Arthur: Pfft, I won't burn myself.

*30 seconds later*

Arthur, entering the room: I burned myself

—————-

Pearson: Tommorrow's garbage day.

Sadie: I can't believe they made a whole day dedicated to you.

—————-

Arthur: Oh, they left the bowl out?

Arthur: It says, "Take two pieces of candy."

John: Nobody around though...

*John grabs the entire bowl and runs off with it*

Arthur : NO -

—————-

Dutch : Are pigeons drones?

Hosea: What? No, I'm trying to sleep.

Dutch: Think about it. How come you've never seen a baby pigeon? And why do you never actually see a pigeon nest? Because they're DRONES!

Hosea: *Crying* Please let me sleep...

————-

Charles : Are you ready to commit?

Arthur: Like, a crime or a relationship?

————-

Dutch: I think I just figured something out. I got to go.

Hosea: Aren't you forgetting something?

Dutch : Uuh...*hesitantly kisses Hosea's forehead before running out.*

Hosea: No, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you??

————-

Arthur : I'm trash.

Charles : As someone who's environmentally conscious, it's my duty to pick you up. Does 7:00 work for you?

Arthur :

Arthur : You smooth motherfucker. And yes, it does.

————-

Javier walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: John, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK.

John, sipping coffee happily: I love you too

————-

*Sadie comes home absolutely drunk, undresses, and stands in Abigail's bedroom.*

Abigail: Babe, are you.. coming to bed?

Sadie: No thank you, I'm sure you're lovely but I have a girlfriend.

Sadie: *Lies on the ground and falls asleep*

Abigail: ….

————-

John : This date is boring!

Javier: This isn't a date. I said I was going to the store.

John: Then why did you invite me?

Javier: I didnt, I specifically said "don't come with me," then you said, "fuck you Javier I'll do whatever I want!”

————-

Sadie : Talk dirty to me, baby~

Abigail: The dishes.

Sadie : Wh-

Abigail: They've been there for 4 days and it's your turn to wash them. You still haven't cleaned them and I have asked you to do it several times.

————-

Thank you.