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willowbelle · 2 months

Text

The Right Direction

zoro & falling in love with you

per this request from my 500 follower event!

❤︎ roronoa zoro x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: dom!zoro, teasing, first time sex, thigh-riding, oral sex (f!receiving), piv sex, reassurance, praise, hair-pulling, rough sex

summary: poetic beginning, zoro is head over heels in love, jokes about how zoro is directionally challenged (lol) zoro is a bit jealous, gives in to his longing, zoro is very skilled with his mouth (three-sword style, duh ;) first time sex, porn with plot, zoro confesses his love. (awe)

word count: ~5,000 (omg)

tagging: @bby-deerling @eelnoise

The Right Direction

Falling in love with you was a sensation that crept up on Zoro quietly, unexpectedly, and with no warning signs.

It was an allconsuming feeling that took him abruptly, tugged at his heartstrings, and left him utterly and painfully smitten.

Zoro is persistent in all that he does; headstrong and resilient, forcing himself through the trenches without a second thought.

This quality remains true as he attempts to make you his.

He’s guarded, of course, desperately attempting to conceal the fact that he is so blatantly head over heels in love with you.

He carefully masks his emotions behind a facade of casual indifference, forcing himself to maintain his typical cool demeanor even as his insides churn and scream with longing.

Though he may feign disinterest, his heart pumps your name into his veins with every beat; loud, intense, unavoidable.

Your form is etched into every crevice of his brain, your voice a permanent chorus in his ears. No matter how hard he tries, you remain an indelible mark, intoxicating and exhilarating.

You’ve ignited something within him; a flame that courses through his veins and makes him feel new; uncharacteristically tingly and vulnerable. You coax these feelings out of the innermost parts of him; parts he'd never shared with anyone.

He often finds himself disappearing into his mind to find you; materializing your image beneath his eyelids, fantasizing about what it would be like to call you his. Your essence permeates every corner of his body, and he can no longer ignore the unmistakable presence you've marked within him.

He avoids your gaze, tilts his head up and wrinkles his nose to deny you conversation; he’s messy and obvious, but it’s fun to play along.

_____

The others notice, too; Zoro’s quieter than usual, more reserved. This brute of a man seems softer, now, entrapped in the sway of fantasy and daydreaming.

He’s been overtaken by something greater than he’s ever experienced, more compelling than sword fights, even. It’s new, foreign; it’s the unmistakable sensation of falling in love.

You've unknowingly embed yourself into every fiber of his being, having taken command of his every move, sitting confidently on your throne in his skull.

Zoro’s entrapped by emotion, and for once, he’s careful where he places his feet.

He’s quiet, sturdy, cautious. But, he persists, like he always does; bold and confidently, almost embarrassingly so.

_____

“What’s got you so quiet lately, Zoro?” Nami questions, “You seem real out of it lately.”

“I’m always quiet,” the green-haired man grumbles, not even wasting the energy to open his eyes as he sits relaxed against the wood panelling of The Sunny.

“Yeah, I know,” the young navigator chuckles, “But this seems different.”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” he sighs indifferently.

His good eye opens suddenly, ears having pricked up by the mere sound of your footsteps.

He knows you’re there before you've even arrived; chatting and laughing with Luffy as the two of you walk into the main area of the ship.

Nami notices the shift in his demeanor as you waltz by; his typical stoic behavior has dissolved entirely, and he’s now anxiously tapping his fingertips on the wooden floor, iris following your every move with a level of precision that simply couldn’t be brushed off.

A smirk tugs at the lips of orange-haired woman, and she hums knowingly,

“Ah, I see.”

“Shut up,” Zoro rasps, he’s talking to Nami, of course, but his head has tilted in the direction of your body, entranced by the hypnotic sway of your hips as you and Luffy make your way into the kitchen.

A twinge of possessiveness pricks at his skin, and although he knows Luffy is quite innocuous, and you’re certainly not his, he still gives in to the pull of his domineering tendencies.

“Fuck, hold on,” he groans, rising to his feet, following you and the captain.

Nami chuckles softly to herself as the swordsman departs,

“I see.”

_____

The kitchen is warm and lively like usual; crewmates strewn about the dining room haphazardly as they chat loudly about nothing and everything all at once.

Zoro immediately spots you, even amidst the ruckus; he’s grown quite fond of your appearance, you seem to always catch his eye.

You’re standing in the corner of the dining room, shoulders parallel to the table as you lean against the wall. You’re turned towards Luffy, head thrown back as you clutch your stomach, laughing at something the captain said.

Zoro’s heart feels funny in his scarred chest, but he can’t quite place the feeling. He feels hot; hot and anxious, seeing you there with someone else.

He grits his teeth and clutches the satin binding around his abdomen, moving forward with purpose.

For once in his life, this stubborn man lets his yearning takes the reigns and lead him in the right direction.

He advances next to you, wedging his broad shoulders between you and the captain, mirroring your action as he leans against the wall.

The sudden intrusion frightens you a bit, and you jump, playfully swatting at his muscular shoulder,

“Jeez, Zoro, don't sneak up on us like that!”

Luffy grins brightly, happy to see his right-hand-man joining in on the festivities.

“Hi, Zoro!” Luffy’s signature laugh erupts from his chest as he roughly pats the swordsman on the back.

“Luffy,” Zoro begins, lifting a muscular arm to point towards the stove where Sanji’s busily working, “Cook’s almost done, don’t let your food get cold.”

“Oh, you’re right! Thanks, Zoro!” Luffy beams, immediately perking up and bouncing off the wall, making his way towards the cook. “Sanjiiii!” the rubber man whines, his voice trailing off as he continues on.

You chuckle softly at your captain’s one-track mind and turn towards Zoro, expecting him to be laughing, too.

Except, he’s not. His face is like stone, per usual, utterly serious, his brooding demenour burning holes into your visage.

“Y/n, come with me,” he grumbles, voice low and hushed.

“What?” you question, tilting your head. Surely, you'd heard him incorrectly.

The green-haired man says nothing, just grabs your delicate hand in his strong, calloused one, leading you away from the kitchen.

“Can’t ignore it anymore,” the tall man grumbles, his back turned to you as you blindly follow his lead.

“I-Ignore what?” you stutter, “Zoro?”

_____

Desire has crept up his spine and sunk its claws into his shoulders, digging into his neck to nip at his ear; it's unavoidable, now, and he has no choice but to give in to its unwavering persistence.

In an instant, you’re twirled around and pressed against the wall of the hallway, Zoro immediately closes the gap, his chapped lips crashing onto yours with such intensity it makes your brain rattle in your skull.

The kiss is rough and electrifying in its suddenness, but Zoro is skilled, lacing his rough fingers through your hair as his thick tongue pushes its way into your unsuspecting mouth.

“Mmm!” you let out a surprised whine at the intrusion, but welcome it, running your delicate hand along his jawline, cupping his face in your palm.

He tastes like salt and booze but you like it.

You can faintly hear his golden earrings jingling as your mouths dance together, and your lips turn upwards into a smile against his.

“Whatcha smilin’ about?” the tall man grumbles into your mouth.

You playfully bite his bottom lip in response, gently tugging on the tender flesh, “I see the way you look at me," you giggle against his lips, "How long have you been waitin’ to do that, Zoro?”

He hesitates, silently weighing the choice between remaining in his familiar role as the silent, indifferent figure in the corner, or yielding to your inquiry. Though he desires to cling to comfort, something new tickles at his throat, threatening to escape.

“Too long,” he groans.

At his confession, you grant him control again, removing your teeth from his lip and pressing your tongue against his once more.

You’re ravenous, tugging on his shirt collar to get him closer, pressing your lips against his with such intensity it feels as though you’re melding into one.

You’re a moaning, sweaty mess; you’ve never been kissed like this before.

He’s rough with his lips, but kind, still, calloused thumb tracing circles into the apple of your cheek as his drool spills down your chin.

Your crewmate moaning into your mouth, his fingers dancing in your hair as he keeps you pressed firmly against the wall, coupled with the way your tongues are dancing together so intensely, passionately, you feel your head start to grow fuzzy.

You begin to lose yourself, entranced in the bliss of the embrace, so you pull away, huffing,

“Zoro,” you whine, “Please.”

He groans at the loss of contact before pulling away, too, taking a precautionary glance down the hallway.

“Walls are thin,” he grumbles, “My room,” he grabs your hand once more, pulling you along, “Let’s go.”

You don’t even think twice before following the swordsman, for once, you place your trust in this stubborn man to lead the way.

Soon enough, you’re kissing again, but this time, Zoro’s seated on his bed with you standing in front of him.

He slides his big, strong hands up and down your sides; he’s greedy with his touches, softly massaging your flesh in his calloused palms as they move up and down your ribcage.

He makes you feel small and you like it, as if he could pick you up and throw you, but still catch you if you fall.

“Come on,” he mumbles against your mouth, moving one hand down to pat his thigh, “Sit.”

You acquiesce immediately, straddling his big thigh, whining in pleasure at the new sensation. You silently curse in your head, you’ve already relinquished control to this man and you’ve only just begun; he’s got you hook, line, and sinker, and he knows it.

“Good,” he chuckles softly, lips turning upwards against yours at his ability to command you so easily.

“Shut up,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his strong neck, lips melding together once more.

His hands travel down, gripping your hips firmly. He instantly begins to move you, rocking your hips back and forth, earning delicious moans to escape from your lips as your needy sex grinds back and forth against his muscular thigh.

“W-Wait,” you rasp, and he does, holding you still and glancing up at you, “I-I want to feel you” you whine, tugging at his shirt.

He averts his gaze as his hands travel down to wrap his fingers underneath the hem of his shirt. You’d never seen him like this, he looked shy.

His fingers trace along the fabric for a moment before he slowly lifts it up and over his head. Your eyes widen as his physique is revealed; you’d seen him shirtless before, but never like this. This was passionate, vulnerable. As the fabric is peeled away, the contours of his muscles greet your eyes, and you twitch, core tightening at the sight. He’s toned and tan, beautiful.

The long scar spanning diagonally across his chest, from his shoulder to his lower abdomen, was enticing. It added the allure of something foreign to you; danger, strength, leaving you openly oggling and aching to know more.

His gaze meets yours again, and the sight of your astounded face makes a dark blush rush to his cheeks.

He pushes the shyness down, as is his custom, arrogance surfacing once more.

“Like what you see?” he smirks playfully.

You lean forwards to plant a soft kiss to his thick neck.

“You tell me,” you start, your voice a sultry whisper as you begin to kiss down his neck and chest, “Seem like I like it?”

Although he tries to push it down, a low groan inevitably escapes from his throat, making him tense at his own vocals.

The unsuspected noise makes you smirk against his bronzed skin, satisfied with your ability to make this silent, stoic man groan from a mere kiss.

You prepare to jest, but he beats you to it, already speaking before you can interject

“Don’t start,” he groans, “You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this,” he admits.

And with that simple confession, you’re the one blushing, instinctively rocking your hips against his thigh.

A satisfied noise escapes from Zoro, “See,” he smirks, “You’re no better.”

You know he’s right, so you dodge protesting, unapologetically grinding your hips back and forth as you continue to kiss down the contours of his muscles.

“Fuck,” his head teeters back as he curses, solid hands finding their place in your hair.

He leans back to rest on his forearms, giving you more access to his torso. He watches on as you make your way down, shuffling off him to sink to your knees in front of the mattress.

Realization strikes and he leans forward to cup your chin in his big palm, tilting your face upwards to meet his gaze.

“Stop,” he commands, making your eyes widen, fearful that you’ve done something wrong. However, he smirks again, settling your nerves, “Swap with me.”

Heat rushes to your face and finds its home in your core; taken off guard by his suddenness and unwavering desire to please you.

You listen, of course, rising to your feet as he does the same. He swiftly lifts you, making you giggle in surprise as he gently tosses you onto the plush mattress.

He takes your previous position, sinking to his knees in front of the bed, his large hands instantly finding their place on each of your thighs.

He squeezes your plush flesh firmly, sliding his hot palms up and down your legs teasingly. You sigh in pleasure at the contact, letting your head fall back onto the mattress as you let the green-haired swordsman worship your timid body.

He continues his gentle pursuit, sliding his hands up to meet the fabric of your denim shorts. He taps your leg with the rough padding of his fingertip, making you crane your neck to look down at him,

He shoots you a questioning glance, silently asking for permission to remove your clothing.

Your heart warms at his request for consent, and you nod softly, making his lips tick upwards into a gentle smile.

A rough palm slides up your body, prompting you to relax against the mattress once more.

His thick fingers find their way to the button and zipper of your shorts, one hand traveling to the side to grip the waistband as the other works diligently on the metal confinements.

Your body tingles and goosebumps begin to bud all over your skin as the sound of your zipper along its track meet your ears; this was really happening.

Zoro’s fingers curl under your waistband and you instinctively raise your hips to aid him in sliding the fabric off your body.

“Thank you,” he smirks.

You take the opportunity to remove your shirt and bra, too, and he watches, unashamed at his blatant desire to gaze upon your naked form. His eye widens at the sight of your pretty breasts, your nipples hardening as the cool air meets them.

“Fuck,” he says, his tone is soft, but ridden with admiration as he openly ogles you, “You’re beautiful,” he praises, sliding a hand up to grasp your left breast as he nuzzles his face between your thighs.

His warmth breath meeting your slit through your panties causes a desperate, shaky whine to escape from your lips. You crane your neck to gaze down at him, your bottom lip tucking under your teeth at the sight. You nibble at the tender flesh, desperately awaiting his next action.

He slides both hands down to rest on your trembling knees before spreading your thighs, making you suck a suprised gasp into your lungs.

He shoots you a wolfish grin, gaze never leaving yours as he playfully bites at the soft fabric of your panties.

“Mm!” you whimper softly, head rolling back as heat rushes to your face, eyes screwing shut tightly in anticipation.

He kisses along the soft skin of your inner thighs before taking the waistband of your panties between his teeth.

“Hey,” he speaks clearly, despite still clenching down on the fabric, “Look at me.”

His lusful command has you complying instantly, despite your embarrassment, and you find yourself leaning up on your forearms to gaze down at the green-haired man between your legs. The sight alone makes your core tighten and flood with warmth.

As soon as your eyes meet his, he begins pulling. He slowly inches your underwear down your thighs, all the way down, allowing them to fall down your calves and pool at your ankles.

He kisses up your legs again, making your lip tremble as you whimper desperately for him.

He smirks in response to your silent plea, rewarding you with a firm, wet kiss to your aching slit.

“Sh-Shit,” you hiss, back arching off the mattress instinctively at the long-awaited contact.

You keep your eyes on him, just as he instructed, and he continues to worship you, fingers moving in to spread your wet folds, making you whine. He plants a line of passionate kisses down your needy slit, lips meeting your entrance to kiss it before slipping his tongue through his lips and swiping at your weeping opening.

“F-Fuck,” you curse, “Z-Zoro…” “Mmm,” he moans against your cunt, “You taste so good.”

His tongue works diligently from the get-go, lapping at your slit like he’s starving and you’re his last meal.

“Ah, fuck,” you moan shakily, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead as the man between your legs works greedily; each flick of his hot, thick tongue making stars erupt beneath your eyelids.

Flames of pleasure tickle your skin, singeing your flesh as Zoro works his way upwards, instinctively latching onto your aching clit and sucking ravenously at the swollen nub.

The sensation makes you cry out, delicate hands darting down to rest atop his head, trembling fingers lacing in his hair and tugging needily at the moss-colored strands.

Euphoria washes over him, the culmination of receiving everything he’s ever wanted finally hitting him. He’s between your legs, your legs, and the desire to please you overpowers any other craving he’s ever experienced. You top everything, even his passion for swords, his desire to become the world’s greatest swordsman, you reign supreme.

He wants nothing more than to please you, love you, make you come undone beneath his touch. He wants to burn himself into your brain and fill your head with nothing but visions of him, his name falling from your slack jaw over and over again like a needy prayer.

And here you are, doing just that.

He continues his pursuit, pressing his face into your cunt harder as his tongue darts up and down from your weeping opening to your pulsing clit.

Your legs begin to tremble, but Zoro’s grip remains firm; keeping your thighs wide open so he can continue his dirty work.

He’s groaning into you, earning just as much pleasure from this as you are. His gaze is penetrating, not leaving your face as you squirm beneath him. It’s undeniably magnetic, captivating, and as much as you want to throw your head back and avert your gaze, you can’t. He’s locked onto you with unyielding intensity, and you reciprocate, staring down at him, face red and mouth hanging slack as you pant. He looks unbelievably good like this, natural, even, as if his face was always meant to be slotted between your quivering legs.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he presses, his low voice clear as day even as it’s hungrily suckling on your clit.

You’re astounded by his ability, his gifted mouth, and then you remember,

“Th-The three-sword-style pays off, huh?” you tease, words shaky as you feel your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“You tell me,” he replies smugly, slowly shaking his head back and forth to treat your clit with more stimulation, "Does it?"

“Fuck!” you cry out, relinquishing control, allowing your orgasm to take the reigns, washing over you with such intensity it feels as though you’re levitating.

Your veins tingle beneath your skin, and you tremble, gushing onto the swordsman’s skillful tongue, earning a low grown from him.

“Mm, fuck,” he growls, continuing to lap at your pulsating sex, overstimulating you beyond belief.

You’re twitching and gasping for air, legs snapping shut around Zoro’s head as he slurps up all that you’ve given him.

He leans up, chin coated in your essence, a confident grin spreading across his face as he revels in his sense of accomplishment.

He rises to his feet, making your chin tilt upwards as you stalk his movements.

His scarred chest heaves up and down as he gazes down at you, attempting to catch his breath, too.

In an instant, his stong hands are at the waistband of his pants, working diligently to remove the fabric. He slides them down his tanned, muscular thighs, stepping out of the article of clothing and kicking it to the side.

His eye never leaves your face as he begins to pulls down his boxers; he wants to observe your face as he reveals himself to you, to catch every reaction and relish in each one.

Your eyes widen as his cock springs free; your face abandoning your desires to remain nonchalant. You knew he’d be big, but fuck, he’s far bigger than you thought, and you struggle to imagine how all of him was going to fit inside you.

He advances forwards, hands falling at either sides of your head as he holds himself above you.

You suddenly feel very small as he cages you in like a predator does its prey; his big, strong arms tensing as he hovers over you.

Your pupils are wide and lust-blown as you look up longingly at the strong man above you.

Your gaze is telling enough, and he smirks, bringing a hand down to grip his cock.

He slowly begins rubbing his tan, weeping tip against your slick folds, causing his bottom lip to tuck between his teeth as he groans.

He’s unbelievably sensitive and uncharacteristically nervous, determined to love you adequately, to give you what you deserve.

“Just tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he rasps out, abandoning his tough-guy persona to gift you with the reassurance he knew you so desperately needed.

You nod, smiling sweetly at this foreign kindness.

With your approval, he begins pressing in. The stretch is evident and you it makes you whine, instinctively reaching up to dig your fingers into his muscular back.

His good eye is half-lidded as he gazes downwards to watch himself enter you, hissing at the feeling of your tight opening accepting the blunt tip of his thick cock. “I’ve got ya,” he assures you as he continues.

“M-mm, Zoro!” you whine out, throwing your head back and shutting your eyes tightly.

It feels like he’s splitting you in half as he inches his way inside you, but you feel safe underneath this burly man, regardless of the pain.

Eventually, through tears in your eyes and nails down his back, he bottoms out, groaning at the sensation of his twitching cock being fully engufled by you.

His hand returns to its place by your head, and he leans down, planting a strong, passionate kiss to your open, panting mouth.

His kisses trail from your lips to your cheek, to your ear, “Tell me when you’re ready,” he rasps.

You stay still for a moment, allowing your body to acclimate to the intense feeling of Zoro’s big cock stuffing you full.

You lean up to kiss him, tongues dancing together for a moment before you pull away again, looking up at him with big, needy eyes.

Even though your eyes spoke volumes, conveying everything without a single word, you spoke nonetheless,

“I’m ready, Zoro.”

With your permission, he begins, bringing his strong, able hips back to thrust into you.

“Fuck,” you whine at the sensation. You could feel him in your stomach, stretching out your insides, and although there was an underscore of pain, it was overtaken by something greater, pleasure.

“Sh-Shit, y/n,” the swordsman groans, “You’re so fucking tight.”

He begins thrusting in and out of you, leaning down to latch onto one of your hardened nipples.

Your body jolts beneath him as he moves; the feeling of his thick cock sliding in and out of your tight walls was an overwhelming feeling that had euphoria seeping from your skin and your brain swiveling in your skull.

“Oh, Zoro,” you whine, wrapping your legs around his waist, fingers still gripping onto his back tightly.

“Fuck, I love feeling you open up for me, y/n,” he groans against your breast, picking up the pace in response to your heels desperately digging into his lower back.

“This what you want?” he smirks, leaning up to watch himself disappear into you over and over again.

“Y-Yes, Zoro!’ you mewl out, “P-Please harder!”

You had pleasure in your sight and you were chasing it hungrily; Zoro’s talented hips aiding your eager pursuit.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he groans as he gazes down at your trembling form, “As you wish,”

He begins thrusting harder, faster, making heat pool in your head as your mouth hangs slack, moaning loudly and without care.

You already feel yourself going dumb on his gifted cock, screwing your eyes shut as you allow pleasure to overtake your body.

The moment your eyes shut, he stops, making them shoot open again to give him a needy stare.

“Z-Zoro,” you whine, pressing your heels harder into his back, praying he gets the message, “W-Why did you stop, Zoro? P-Please,” you whine.

He remains still, determined to teach you a lesson, “Keep your eyes on me, y/n,” he groans, his voice is strict and authoritative, but still riddled with ecstasy, “In fact,” he begins, moving a strong hand up to grasp your hair, tugging firmly on the strands to force your gaze downwards, making you whimper. “Watch it.”

He begins moving again, blush dancing across your sweaty cheeks as you watch Zoro’s big cock move in and out of your tight folds.

“W-Wow,” you moan out, keeping your eyes on the spot where your bodies meet.

“Yeah?” he moans, “Nice isn’t it?”

“M-mhmm,” you whimper in agreement, letting your mouth fall open as blissful moans escape from it.

He starts thrusting hard again, gritting his teeth as he watches, too.

Your combined moans barely mask the lewd sounds of your sloppy cunt and your skin slapping together. Zoro’s still got your hair gripped tightly in his hand as he fucks you hard, his weighty balls slapping against your cunt each time he enters.

You feel a coil tightening in your core, tingly and ready to snap at any moment. Heat rushes to your head and your limbs feel numb as you chase your orgasm; it’s fast-approaching and you’re insatiable.

“I-I’m so close, Zoro!” you cry out desperately, and he groans, his cock twitching as he fucks you through it.

He relinquishes the hold on your hair as he thrusts into you mercilessly; confident you’ll keep your eyes where he instructed.

“Z-Zoro,” you whine, looking up at him, you’re expecting him to still be looking down at your parts, but he’s not, he’s looking at your face.

His heart pounds, blood pumping through his veins with both anticipation and trepidation as he stumbles over the sentence in his head. The weight of his emotions feels palpable on his tongue as he relinquishes control over the words that had been lingering on the tip for far too long.

“Y/n,” he whines, a new noise, uncharacteristically needy and riddled with something greater than lust.

The pace of his hips never falters as he confesses, the admission spilling from his lips with sincerity and spontaneity, as if it was always meant to be spoken,

“I-I love you, y/n” he leans down, lips dry from breathing heavily as he kisses you,

“I fucking love you.”

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

༉‧₊˚✧ woohoo! this is my first full-length fic about a character other than law! ༉‧₊˚✧

i love zoro so very much, and have fallen for him even more while writing this! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚

i hope i did him justice! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

& this is for my bff @bby-deerling so i needed it to be amazing ♡︎

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alotofpockets · 3 months

Text

Jealousy | Mary Earps

Pairing: Mary Earps x Reader

Summary: Mary introduces you to a few of your teammates but ends up getting jealous when you get along with them well.

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

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After a few months of dating Mary, she invited you over to her place to meet some of her England teammates. Since the girls played all over, you hadn't met many of them. You had already met her teammates at United on a few occasions, as you loved going to watch Mary play. So, the only familiar face next to your girlfriend’s would be her United teammate Ella Toone.

You ring Mary’s doorbell, and the girl opens the door with a big smile plastered on her face, “Hi baby.” She pulls you into a hug, and closes the door behind you. “How are you feeling?” You were sitting on the couch now, with Mary’s arm across the back of it. “I'm a little nervous about meeting your friends but overall I am doing well. How about you?” Mary’s arm wraps around your shoulder, “I’m doing good, and you don’t have to be nervous, they are going to love you.” Mary had just finished her sentence when the doorbell rang.

A cheery Beth walked into the house, “Hi mate, it’s good to see you.” She hugged Mary at the door. Mary walked her in and introduced the two of you right away. You held out your hand for Beth to shake but the girl greeted you with a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mary has been talking my ears off about you, and that says a lot as I am usually the talkative one.” The blonde jokes. “All good things I hope.” Beth places a hand on your shoulder, “Only good things, don’t you worry. Mary is heads over heels for you.” You blush at the words, hearing that Mary talked about you so highly to her friends meant a lot.

You continue your conversation with Beth, getting to know each other a little better, while Mary heads to the door again. Leah walks in next and greets you with a hug, similar to Beth. “It’s good to meet you, y/n.” You smile at the girl, “Likewise.” Before Mary can sit down, the doorbell rings again. “So, the both of you play for the same club, right?” You ask Beth and Leah, who are now sitting with you on the couch. “Oh yeah, Beth and I go way back.”

“Y/n!” Ella yells your way, as she rushes to give you a hug. “It’s so good to see you again. We missed you at the game on Sunday.” You heard a chuckle from behind Ella, “You’ve gotta at least let her breathe if you want her to let you know why she wasn’t there.” Ella realises then that she’s still hugging you tightly, ‘Right, sorry, I got too excited.” Alessia stepped forward and gave you a quick hug, “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Alessia. Don’t mind Tooney here, sometimes she forgets that people have lives outside of watching us play football.” The comment earns the girl a playful hit on the arm by none other than Ella herself.

You were having a blast getting to know your girlfriend's teammates, the girls were very easy to like, and the conversation flowed easily. Alessia helped Mary in the kitchen with cooking, while Leah helped you set the table. Beth and Ella were deep into a discussion that no one was interested in interrupting.

When the table is set, you walk into the kitchen to check if everything is going well. “You seem tense, darling.” Your hands instantly reach for Mary’s shoulders and you massage them slightly. “I forgot to buy the sauce for the pasta, and we have nothing in the pantry to make sauce with.” She says, letting out a frustrated sigh. “No worries, I will go to the store and get some right away.” You quickly peck her cheek, and head back to the living room. “Hey, I’m heading to the store really quick.” You tell Leah, “Do you want to tag along?” You subtly nod in Beth and Ella’s direction, who are still having a heated discussion. “Yes, please.” The girl jokes back to you.

The trip to the store was short, as the grocery store was right around the corner. You had asked Leah about her family, and she told you all about her little brother that was currently living in Australia. You could tell that she loved her family very much, and it was a joy to listen to her talk about them. The conversation was still going when you had arrived back at Mary's apartment. Leah follows you into the kitchen, so your conversation doesn’t need to stop. “Here you go, darling.” You say as you hand Mary the jar. You give her a quick kiss on her cheek, before you head back to the living room with Leah.

Mary looks after you with a feeling a way she hadn’t felt before. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was either, so she decided to put her focus back on the food. When Mary and Alessia had plated the food, and set the plates down on the table, you and Leah were still deep in conversation. Of course, you stopped for a moment to thank the girls for the food, and for a quick toast, but you soon fell back into easy conversation with the striker.

Unbeknownst to you, Mary kept glaring at you and Leah. You were too deep into the conversation to notice the change in her behaviour at first, but when your attention was pulled to the conversations around the table, you noticed that Mary wasn’t really joining in on the conversation. You place your hand down on her thigh, but unlike the usual smile or her hand meeting yours, the gesture was met with a stoic look. You made a mental note to ask her about it later, not wanting to get into anything while her teammates were over.

The food was amazing, you thanked both Alessia and Mary again for their efforts in the kitchen. Everyone helped clean up, and soon after they were getting ready to head back home. Leah hands you her phone, “Here, put your number in, and I’ll send you those links.” You quickly type in your contact info, before handing her phone back, and hugging her goodbye. You also hug the rest of the girls, and thank everyone for a great night.

You wanted to cuddle up to your girlfriend the moment that the front door closed, but Mary walked away and sat down at the dinner table before you could. Taking a seat beside her, you put your hand on her knee. “What’s going on, darling?” She shrugs, “Why don’t you ask Leah?” Confusion takes over your face. “Why would I ask Leah, what’s going on with you?” You had never seen Mary like this before, and it worried you. “You’re clearly into her as the two of you talked the whole day, and I even saw you exchange phone numbers.”

It started to click for you then. “You’re jealous of Leah?” Her eyes shot up to yours. “Darling, I’ve been talking with Leah because I love you, you goober. I was just trying to get to know your friends. And for the number exchange, we were talking about some places we have travelled to, and she was going to recommend some places, so I could take you there. I’m sorry if it looked differently, darling. I promise that I only have eyes for you.” Mary’s demeanour changed when she realised that her jealousy was misplaced.

“Oh, thank god.” She exhales and brings you in for a hug. “I was so scared you’d like her more, and that we would be over.” You shake your head. “Never going to happen, I have everything I’ve ever wanted with you by my side.” Hearing those words did Mary good. She connected your lips in a passionate kiss. Her previous jealousy meant that she wanted to show you how much she loved you.

-----

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#mary earps #mary earps x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #england lionesses #manchester united women #muwfc x reader #muwfc imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #ella toone #leah williamson #beth mead #alessia russo

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kqulitz · 11 months

Note

hiii!! can i request a tom x reader where like reader dresses up like him a bit, oversized shit and all, hiding her body on those bigass clothes, but sometimes, on special occasions she dresses in like revealing shit (rockstars gf leather mini skirt, leather jacket, black platform heels, and all the other shi) and like tom just goes 😨 in a good way

HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE IM HALF ASLEEP WRITING THSI REQUEST😭😭

revealing

tom kaulitz x reader

summary: your sudden change in style catches you boyfriend’s attention.

tags: established relationship, fluff, tom being a bit clingy, some grabbing, implied smut at the end but nothing too explicit

a/n: it’s okay!! i’m sorry this is short 😭🫶

lowercase intended

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

tom stretches from his seat on the couch, sighing a little. “babe, c’mon! we’re gonna be late!” he calls, standing from where he was sat and walking to the bedroom door. “just a minute!” you shout back, voice muffled through the door. “you’ve had a lot of minutes..! c’mon, the other’s are waiting outside!” he knocks a little. “just hang on a sec, okay? i’m almost done!” tom hears you walking around the room. “fine, you get five more minutes.” he sighs, leaving to step outside. bill looks over, frowning a little. “she’s still not done yet?” he asks, glancing behind tom. “no. i’m giving her five more minutes.” the other twin sighs, running a hand over his face. “the parties starting soon.” georg reminds tom, who nods. “i know.”

they wait, and wait, and eventually tom is asked to go back inside to get you. bill is playing it off as a joke, but tom can tell they’re getting a smidge impatient with you. tom steps over to the bedroom door, gently knocking. “schatz, c’mon. we’ve gotta go.” (darling) he tells you, leaning near the door. you don’t respond, yet the lock clicks open. tom opens the door slowly, peering in before opening it fully. he’s absolutely stunned; you’re dressed up, not in your usual clothes, but in a short skirt, cropped top and leather jacket. your platforms give you a couple inches, yet you’re just barely the same height as him. tom blinks, eyes taking in your appearance. “you don’t think this is too revealing do you..?” you ask, hands cusping before you. tom blinks again, looking at you. “no, no it’s perfect, baby. you look amazing.” he smiles, kissing you gently.

you hum. tom can tell you’re feeling insecure, yet the way his hands rest on your hips as he guides you out to the rest of the gang makes you relax a little. the others smile as you finally join them, and bill looks over your outfit. “looking good! we ready?” he asks, smiling softly. “yeah, we’re ready.” you reply, hand grasping tom’s gently. “good. let’s go.” gustav gets in the car, and the rest of the band follow suit. you sit beside tom in the back, bill’s driving, gustav had called shotgun and georg was sat on tom’s left. “i was thinking…” bill starts as he pulls away from the curb. “we could go out and get dinner after this.” he says, glancing at tom in the rearview mirror. “i don’t think i’ll go. i’ve got a meal planned at home.” tom’s hand slips under your skirt, massaging your thigh. you fluster, staring at your boyfriend with wide eyes. he smiles innocently, kissing your cheek. “that’s fine, we’ll bring you some leftovers just in case.” bill chirps, completely unaware of his brother’s actions.

“thanks bill.” you respond, keeping your voice steady. tom’s fingers tease over your thigh, tracing soft shapes. “you should dress like this more often.” he whispers to you. you nod a little, not trusting your voice. “i mean it. i’m gonna completely ravage you tonight.” tom grins, stealing a quick kiss.

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz #// 🦇 kqulitz’s writing

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its-time-to-write · 6 months

Note

how about a Jamie x reader fic when they go away to Amsterdam they sit together on bus and they wake up cuddling and then there’s an issue w hotel booking and there’s a one bed trope and they end up waking up cuddled together and then they admit feelings and reader goes to game with a tartt jersey on <3

I’ve been thinking about this forever, and I’m terribly sorry it took so long!! I do enjoy being an adult, but I’m at a point in life where I don’t have much free time and if I do, I use it to sleep😂

I really miss the days when Ted Lasso was still airing and the x reader tags had new content every day. I feel like that one meme of Thanos when he’s like “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Shoutout to all y’all who are still here and reading my stuff! Love you!!

smile at me

It’s straight-up fucked. It really, really is. But also maybe it’s good, as Keeley pointed out, because not having a boyfriend anymore means you can focus on yourself?

Or something.

Of course he had to break up with you right before leaving for Amsterdam. Hell, he broke up with you because you were leaving for Amsterdam.

“I don’t want you going to another country with a bunch of other guys,” he had said. “It’s them or me.”

“It’s literally my job,” you told him.

Apparently, that didn’t matter.

But what-fucking-ever, you’re at Keeley’s waiting for a car to take you to the airport, and she’s promised to make sure you don’t think about your stupid ex even once.

It’s times like these you wish Ted were still here with a spot-on pun and some dad-type advice. All you ever get from Beard is a weird anecdote and a vaguely threatening look.

Keeley chatters on for the entirety of the ride to the airport, through customs, and all the way to the lounge.

“You’re gonna get loads of great content for the socials, babe. Candids, action shots, behind-the-scenes. Friendlies are fucking amazing!”

Last time Richmond were in Amsterdam, they had lost horribly. They’re hoping to make up for it this time around.

The plane is full of Greyhounds, both footballers and coaches alike, with Rebecca at the very front. Keeley plops done in the seat next to her as Dani waves at you from the middle.

“I saved you a seat!” he calls. You smile as Sam takes your bag to put it in the overhead. “Thanks, Dani. You excited?”

Dani grins. “I think this time I am ready to see a whole field of tulips!”

You laugh as the lads roll their eyes. Jamie leans across the aisle toward you and says, “Oi, what’s the twat doing while you’re away?”

You press your lips into a thin line. “Not a clue.”

He raises an eyebrow and says, “You break up with him?”

“He broke up with me.”

Jamie twists his face into a scoff. “And you wonder why I call him the fucking twat. Prick. Bet it was so he could finally fuck his coworker.”

You shrug. Jamie’s never liked your boyfriend. It’s not like you were together long, only a few months. And sure, he was a little bit of a twat, but sue you. You had a special place in your heart for pricks with a heart of gold, only he didn’t even have a heart at all.

“You should date someone better,” Jamie continues.

You glare at him and retort, “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy. You got some one in mind?”

Jamie gives you his most angelic look and says, “What about me?” which makes half the plane dissolve into laughter, yourself included.

“Cheers, Jamie,” you say as you wipe your eyes. “I needed that.”

A strange look crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression. “Anytime, love,” he replies as you turn to start a conversation with Dani.

As much as you’d like that, Jamie would never date you. His joke stings a little but you brush it off. Maybe you’ll find another twat in Amsterdam to distract yourself from the fact that you’re half in love with Jamie Tartt.

—

“I’m sorry, we don’t have a booking under you name,” the hotel concierge says.

You tap your nails to your wrist. “Are you positive? I’m with AFC Richmond, they should’ve had one.”

The concierge taps on his computer for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have anything. And all of our rooms are booked this weekend. Might I recommend the hotel down the road?”

Damn it. There’s no way this is happening. Everyone else has gotten to their rooms without a hitch and here you are, alone in the lobby as you pull out your phone to call Keeley. There’s no way this is fucking happening.

“Everything alright?” asks a voice behind you, and you jump.

“They don’t have a room for me, and they’re fully booked,” you explain.

Jamie looks at the concierge, who shrugs apologetically, then back to you. He asks, “Why don’t you share with me?” and you frown.

“I thought you were rooming with Declan,” you say.

Jamie lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, but he switched with Richard because O’Brien fucking snores and he don’t give a shit.”

You say, “So you’re with Richard, then,” and he shakes his head.

“Nah, Richard’s with Jan.”

“I thought Dani was with Jan,” you say. These fucking footballers. What’s the point in having set rooms if they’re just going to switch it all up.

“Dani is with Jan,” Jamie says patiently, as if this all the most obvious thing in the world. “But Dani’s a cuddler, so he’s probably going to fucking end up with, I don’t know, Isaac or someone. Which means I get a room all to meself.”

“Right,” you say slowly. “Alright, I can do that. As long as you don’t mind.”

Jamie winks. “Sharing a room with a pretty girl for four days? Ain’t a problem, love.”

You laugh and follow him to the elevator.

—

It feels a bit like playing with fire, agreeing to room with Jamie. Especially since you’re freshly single and definitely open to a rebound. But there will be two beds and a lot of space and anyway, you’ll be busy with the match and social media, respectively.

Except as soon as you walk through the door, you realize there’s a tiny little hitch.

“There’s one bed,” you blurt out, so surprised you’re unable to filter your words. Jamie blushes a little bit as he says, “Yeah, um, Cockburn and I hate sleeping alone, so we asked for one. He grew up sharing a bed with his brothers and I just fucking hate being alone. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

“No,” you say firmly, “you need good rest. It’s not a problem.”

It’s not a problem.

Or at least it wouldn’t have been if Isaac had been a shittier captain.

But as it is he’s great, so he’s got the whole team going out to dinner at a pre-determined location complete with a dress code of no t-shirts and apparently you count as part of the team, so you have to go too. You’re in your massive bathroom trying to curl your disgusting travel hair when Jamie walks in wearing one of those white hotel bathrobes.

He asks, “You mind if I’m in here?” so you shake your head, struck temporarily mute by his bare clavicle. Fucking hell, you feel like a repressed Victorian woman.

Jamie says, “Mint,” and goes about his alarmingly detailed skincare routine. You’re pretty sure you’re done with your hair so you crane your neck in an attempt to check the back.

“Missed a spot,” Jamie says. “Want me to get it for you?”

You shoot him a dubious look but hand him the curler. He runs a hand through your hair, picking up the offending strand and it’s all you can do not to shiver.

“Mum taught me,” he explains and you nod ever so slightly, not wanting him to accidentally burn your neck. Jamie says, “All good,” and runs his whole hand through your hair this time, making the curls bounce.

You choke out, “Thanks,” and hurriedly put away your things, desperate to leave before Jamie can pick up on the fact that you can barely handle being in the same room as him, and that you have great concerns about what the night will bring.

—

“You look fucking hot,” is the first thing Rebecca says when you meet her in the lobby. Keeley looks mildly offended that Rebecca took the words out of her mouth, but she just laughs and taps your arm.

“Gonna break a few hearts tonight, yeah?” she grins.

You’re not sure about that, especially since dinner turns out to be a very domestic affair. It’s loud, sure, but it’s definitely toned down since it’s a pre-match celebration instead of a post-match one. You’re with Sam, Keeley, and Roy with Jamie far, far away. You push all thoughts of him from your brain only for memories of your ex to surface. You frown.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy says and for a moment, you think he’s talking to you. But he’s actually talking to Jamie who has moved from his place across the restaurant to right behind your chair.

“Fuck off grandad,” Jamie says good-naturedly. “Wanted to tell this one that some of the lads are going out dancing after this. Not too late,” he hastily adds at Roy’s burning scowl, “just for two hours and we’re only allowed one drink.”

You’re pretty sure that’s a bit more liberal than Roy likes, but he nods his head slightly so he must be in a good mood.

“So, you coming?” Jamie asks and before you can reply Sam and Keeley chorus, “Yes she is.”

You give Keeley a Look before turning back to Jamie. “Guess I am,” you reply.

The smile Jamie gives you does more to make your head spin than any amount of alcohol you’ve had in your lifetime.

—

Jamie has taken it upon himself to wipe that frown off your face. He might have been watching you over dinner and that might have been why he chose that exact moment to invite you out, but he’ll never fucking admit it to anyone except Sam. And Keeley. And maybe Cockburn when it was the off-season and they were a little tipsy. (But not drunk, never drunk.)

So yeah, sue him if he’s spinning you around on the crowded dance floor just because it makes you laugh. It’s not his fault that he’s been wildly in love with you since the day Higgins hired you. It’s not his fault that you’re easy to be around and have the most beautiful smile he’s seen in his life.

And fuck, it certainly isn’t his fault you can’t see in yourself what others do. Why you settled for a piece of shit like your ex, he’ll never know. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to show you how special you are. He knows you’ll never feel the same about him, but maybe he can help you level up your standards. Maybe if you’re with someone good, it’ll hurt less that it’s not him.

So he lets you hold his hand for the entirety of the two hours that the team is out and doesn’t say a word when you don’t let go in the cab back to the hotel.

You’ve gotten that closed-off look in your eyes again, the one that means you’re thinking about your ex, so Jamie knocks his shoulder into yours and asks why he can’t have the password to the team’s Instagram account, which is a sure fire way to get you to lecture him on irresponsibility and aesthetics and the best way to get your eyes to come back to life.

—

Honestly, it’s easier to fall asleep than you might have expected. It’s a big bed and you’re fucking tired.

You just didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night crying, but it’s always fucking like this when you go through a breakup. You go to sleep fine and wake up sad, so you do your best not to wake up Jamie except you’ve both ended up entangled in each other’s arms, so he can feel you shaking.

“Hey,” Jamie says in a soft voice, “You’re okay, love.”

You half expect him to push you away once he realizes you’re so close, but he only pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe it’s because you’re both half-asleep, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

You sigh and settle into him, drifting off in a matter of moments.

—

You wake up to a pair of blue eyes watching you.

“How you feeling?” Jamie asks, voice gravelly with sleep.

You just blink at him. It’s hard to form coherent sentences within the first ten seconds of waking up, and even harder with the memory of Jamie’s arms around you last night.

Wait. Not just the memory. The present reality because neither of you have moved.

Jamie misinterprets your silence and begins to extricate his arms.

“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not to trying to like, cross and fucking boundary or something. Should’ve left you alone.”

You’re still not awake enough to talk so you grab him to stop him from moving away. He gives you a questioning look so you say, “I wouldn’t have agreed to share a bed if I thought you were a creep.”

Jamie grins. “So like, if Jan had offered to share a room you’d’ve said no.”

You wrinkle your nose as you say, “Jan’s not a creep.”

“He’s the fucking worst,” Jamie grumbles, “And anyway, can we not talk about Jan fucking Maas this early in the morning?”

“Sure,” you say, “let’s talk about something else.”

Despite your comment, you both lapse into silence. You’re enraptured by Jamie’s blue eyes. You’ve never been able to study them this close before, and you want to take this opportunity to memorize every fleck of green.

Jamie seems to have a similar thought, except his gaze flicks to your lips.

“I have morning breath,” you tell him and he says, “Real men don’t give a shit, babe,” before leaning forward.

It’s softer than you’d expected, sweeter.

It’s also strange to think that you’re making out with Jamie in bed, and that he’s the one who initiated it.

The thought is so absurd that you giggle, mid-kiss. Jamie breaks away and says, “Oi, there’s no way that was a shit kiss.”

“No,” you say between giggles, “it’s just weird that we’re doing this. Like, how are we supposed to look each other in the eye after?”

Jamie moves so he can look at you better, and you roll from your side to your back. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“Oh come on, we share a room and a bed, we kiss because I have all these sad feelings and you’re feeling a lot of emotions about the match, and then we have to work together after. It’s silly.”

Jamie cocks his head. “That’s what you think is happening?”

“Yes?” you say. None of this is going how it’s supposed to. “What do you think is happening?”

“I like you,” he says, and there is absolutely no mistaking his meaning.

“Oh,” you reply in a small voice. “Since when?”

“Since before you started dating the twat. When Higgins introduced ya to the team.”

“That’s a fucking long time ago!” you exclaim. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Jamie rubs his face. “Yeah, ‘cept you showed up to work tellin’ everyone how you started dating the twat. And I ain’t a home wrecker.”

You groan. “Fuuuck. I literally only dated him to try to get over you.”

Jamie shoots up. “What?!”

“Yeah,” you say, “I’ve been like a little bit in love with you ever since you winked at me during that first promo I did.”

Jamie blows out a breath. “Okay. Think that’s enough talking. C’mere. We’re making out proper, like, then we’re going to breakfast.”

You grin as you climb onto his lap.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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mlm-writer · 7 months

Text

Pairing: Omega Dick Grayson x Alpha Male Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 1506 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 1 - Last day of an omega’s heat and their alpha is TIRED Note: Woo it is octoberrrr Tags: established relationship, creampie/breeding, knotting, overstimulation, off-screen consented somnophilia, blacking out, riding and aftercare bath

Your name was sung from the bedroom, the sweet tone not giving you the warmth it usually did. “Wait a moment!” You called back as you added some cold milk to your steaming coffee. You gave it a good swirl and took a sip. Once you had determined it would not burn your throat to a crisp, you chugged the pint as fast as you could.

“Alpha,” your husband whined as he came over to stand in the doorway to the kitchen. You sighed. You loved him so much, but his heats were long. Dick was fine at the moment, just still unbelievably horny and cranking up the AC to fight the furnace his hormones turned his body into.

“I’m coming,” you sighed as you put the beer glass into the sink. You had barely turned around when your omega cornered you against the sink. His nose was in your neck, taking deep sniffs, burying itself into your scent glands. “I can’t believe you’re out here walking around after we just fucked for hours,” you whined as you draped your arms over Dick and rested your body against him.

Dick had started peppering your neck in kisses. His pheromones were keeping you from just tapping out and calling a service. This wasn’t the first time you spent Dick’s heat together, but each time you forgot how Dick’s stamina was far greater than your own. “I just can’t get enough of you,” Dick purred as he started leading you out of the kitchen. You followed him back to the bedroom. The whole room smelled of sweat and sex, empty 2 litre water bottles scattering the floor, along with dirty towels, clothes and wet wipes that have long since dried out. “Just lie back, alpha, I got it from here,” Dick mused as he pushed you onto the dirty sheets. You couldn’t care less, you were still dirty from your last romp anyway.

You hadn’t bothered putting on clothes while you had gone for your coffee break. It gave your partner free access to your limp cock resting against your thigh. Dick didn’t waste time putting it in his mouth. You expected him to make quick work of getting you hard again, but he just lied there, face buried in your pelvis as he suckled on your soft cock. You let out a sigh, thankful for the gentle and slow start. You reached down, running your fingers through Dick’s hair while he brought you gentle pleasure.

Your body relaxed. Warmth all around you. The mattress dipped nicely. You pulled a pillow down to rest your head on and… yeah you dozed off. You didn’t know for how long, but when consciousness found you again, the first sight that greeted you was Dick deepthroating you, his spit encasing your cock and dripping down your balls. He looked at you, teary eyed, and smiled with his mouth full of cock when your eyes looked back at him. The omega pulled off and wiped his glistening lips. “Looks like my alpha is ready to go,” he joked as he shifted. You registered about three words of that, but the meaning of whatever he said was of no importance as you felt his wet hole slide down on you. He was hot inside, the heat almost scorching you.

A long whine left your lips as you let your head fall onto the pillow below your head. Filthy words of praise left Dick’s mouth as he panted on your cock, riding it like he had been waiting on it for ages. You were exhausted beyond imagination, but somehow you were hard as a rock and even bucking up into your omega. Dick used you like a dildo, not thinking about your pleasure at all as he grinded his hole down on you, while stimulating himself with a hand between his spread open legs. “Slow down, please, I am not going to last long like this,” you panted, lifting your head to behold the epitome of lewdness.

Dick had his eyes closed, mouth open to let out the moans that bubbled up from where he found himself in heaven. “Yes, please, knot me again,” he begged, body moving rapidly like he had an undepletable source of energy. He did the exact opposite of what you asked, desperately seeking that which scratched the itch of his instinctual needs. “Please, alpha, please,” he almost screamed, lost in the pleasure of being filled and the hunger for more. He needn’t beg. You were at his mercy, at the mercy of his heat.

You tried to think of unsexy things, determined to hold on a little longer, but your mind drifted to Dick sucking your cock while you had a little nap. You were bound to fall asleep on him again some time soon and you hoped he would continue to use your body like he had before. It was a train of thought you should not have entertained; the tension in your abdomen snapped and you pulled Dick down onto your quickly-swelling knot. Relief washed over you as you groaned and pumped another load into your mate. Dick howled, lost in the pleasure as he kept riding you. What started as a nice milking, quickly turned into torture. The man on top of you did not stop. He kept riding your knot, his hole so stretched that it almost slipped out with every lift of his hips. “More, more, more,” he begged, hands landing on your chest. His face hung over yours, his tongue slipping out as his eyes crossed. You tried to hold him still, but his hands grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head.

You struggled in his grip, but there was no energy left in you and Dick was not exactly your typical frail omega. You begged him to stop, to not stop, to… Anything. Your words met his ears, but never reached his mind, brain too fogged up on pleasure to register a single word coming from you. Miracles still existed when you found yourself orgasm again. Your body went slack, giving up and just taking it. Dick has been fucked so much the past few days, he could lift himself off your knot and then force it back inside. You barely registered the mess he was making on your torso. Pleas wanted to make themselves known, but you could only scream while you swimmed in the ocean of pleasure and pain.

Did you cum again? You had no idea. At some point, things went black. You never saw the way Dick did not even realise you had blacked out from the overstimulation. You never saw him cum on your cock over and over until it wasn’t hard enough to ride anymore. You never saw him rub himself all over your thigh, getting off on your skin again, humping you like a dog. You never saw him watch your sleeping body while he fisted himself to give himself the feeling of being knotted. The only thing that reached you were his repeated cries of your name that influenced your dreams.

When the morning light reached through the crack in the curtains to touch your face, you woke with a pounding headache and a mouth as dry as a lesbian at a sausage party. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes, vision a little blurry for a moment. You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking around the room. There was a bit of water left, but the bottle was at the other side of the room. Your eyes scanned the room, anxiety growing within you when you did not see your partner anywhere. “Dick?” You called out, voice rough.

“Bath!” A reply came from the distance. You let out a sigh of relief, climbing off the bed to get to the water bottle. You chugged the last bit as you almost limped to the bathroom. The small room was filled with the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. You could see the steam come off the hot water in the tub, but your lover seemed unbothered by the heat. When he saw you, he reached down to pull the plug. You waited as Dick let the bath empty a little, before turning on the cold tap. When he deemed the bath at a suitable temperature for you, you joined him, the water splashing over the side, but neither of you mentioned it.

“It’s still hot!” You complained as you settled with your back against Dick’s chest. Your omega chuckled and wrapped his arms around your middle, holding you against him, while you let the hot water relax your exhausted body.

“This is as cold as I am willing to go and you know it.” You hummed in reply, closing your eyes, ears now finally able to notice the soft jazz that echoed off the bathroom tiles. “Don’t sleep. I will make you breakfast once I can stand straight again.” You didn’t hear him say it, already snoozing in that overheated bathtub.

—————

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR FANFIC WRITERS

Likes do not help exposure! A comment in tags or replies can sustain a writer for months!

#male reader #kinktober #dc #dick grayson #young justice #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x male reader #dc x male reader #dc x reader #young justice x reader #young justice x you #young justice x male reader #omegaverse #dc x you #alpha reader

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waratah-vroom · 9 months

Text

Good Vibes (ms47)

Liked by yourusername, schumiangel and 485,208 others f1: Haas will not be renewing their contract with Mick Schumacher for the 2023 season. There is currently no word on the German driver's future on the grid for next year.

yourusername: 😇😇😇 ↳ ms47fangirl: gurl what does this mean???

haassucks: Glad to see Schumacher leaving that toxic work environment. Hopefully he finds somewhere better.

guentherhater: FINALLY! He deserves so much more than fucking Steiner.

f1wags: aw I'm going to miss yourusername's petty stories hating on Guenther

mercedesamgf1 and mickschumacher

Liked by georgerussell63, f1 and 1,482,405 others mercedesamgf1: signed ✍️ We are happy to announce our 2023 reserve driver, mickschumacher!

yourusername: Looking good in black baby 🖤 ↳ mickschumacher: 💕

lewishamilton: Welcome to the team, mate!

jackdoohan: Congrats brother 💪

gina_schumacher: We're all so proud Mick

Tagged: mickschumacher Liked by estebanocon, schumiangel and 17,482 others yourusername: Well deserved break with my boy ❄️

jackdoohan: I can't believe you chose snow over coming to the beach with me 😠 ↳ yourusername: we land in Australia next week!

gina_schumacher: Did he manage to get off the lift without faceplanting? ↳ yourusername: 🤐 ↳ mickschumacher: Stop giving her ideas, Hase! That happened once gina_schumacher and I was 12.

“You seem happy.”

Mick sighed contently, his head resting on your lap as the two of you stretched out in front of the fire. Snow was falling outside the large windows, but you were nice and toasty wrapped up in a blanket with your furnace of a boyfriend in your arms.

“I am happy. I’m with you. Alone in the mountains with no one to bother us.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, but that wasn’t what you meant. “I meant in general. You seem happier than you were last month. More relaxed.”

He rolled over so his blue eyes met yours, his lower lip between his teeth. “You mean since Haas fired me.”

“Baby,” you fought off the eye roll. “If they hadn’t fired you, you would have quit.”

“I wouldn’t have-”

“You should have. They treated you like shit.”

“At least I was on the grid.”

“But was it worth it?” He was silent. You’d been having a version of this conversation since 2021. “Was it really worth being blamed for their failure just so you could drive?”

He leant back into your hand that was scratching his head, almost cat-like as his eyes fluttered closed. “I guess not.”

“And if you hadn’t left, you wouldn’t have been given the opportunity that you have now at Mercedes.”

“I know, I just hate when you’re right.”

“I’m right all the time.”

“Yeah and I hate it,” he opened one eye, a grin spreading across his face.

“Fine, if you hate it so much I won’t show you the new things I bought from Agent Provocateur.”

“Wait, don’t they make lingerie?” You didn’t respond, picking your phone up from next to you and opening instagram. “Hase? They make lingerie, right?” You could see the desperation on his face from the corner of your eyes and couldn’t help the small smile edging its way on your lips. “Baby, I’m sorry, you know I was joking. Come on, you have to show me what you bought. Please? I’ll do anything.”

That piqued your interest. He rarely needed to beg you as you usually gave in straight away, so this was a nice change. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

Liked by ms47fangirl, schumiangel and 340,274 others mercedesamgf1: Mick's first visit to Brackley as our official reserve driver!

micklover: can't wait to see him do a test drive!

yourusername: I know I shouldn't be thirsting over my boyfriend in his workplace's insta comments but 🥵 ARMS ↳ f1wags: where's the lie tho

yourusername: p.s I'm so happy to have my smiley boy back 🥰 Liked by mercedesamgf1

Liked by gina_schumacher, carmenmmundt and 20,382 others yourusername: It's race week so here's your regularly scheduled wag content ✨ Also thanks Mercedes - this was the first race in a long time I didn't get heartburn!

mercedesamgf1: Glad we could give you a stress free weekend 👍 Liked by yourusername & mickschumacher

mickschumacher: 🐰 Liked by yourusername

schumiangel: it's giving merc girlie ↳ yourusername: nah I'm a mick girlie 💕 ↳ micklover: shut the fuck up that is the cutest answer

read more of my writing here.

Made to order for @alilstressyandlotdepressy for my perfume collection xx

ﾟ｡ ⋆ mags' radio: this one was short and sweet bc i didn't have much inspiration. I was originally intending for this to be a steiner hate piece but i've seen so many of those around that i couldn't think of anything that hadn't already been said. I have plans for a Mick x Wolff!reader miniseries and a Vettel!reader miniseries, as well as a cute little smutty prequel to Green Thumb. If you're interested in my future stuff join my taglist! ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡

taglist: @fulla02reads @flowerchild-96 @camillalarke @cool-ultra-nerd @azxulaa @booksobsess @formulakay3 @moonvr @chonkybonky @peachiicherries @toalltheboyswhowastedmytime @lilacsimps @love4lando @lunnnix @cinderellawithashoe @ferrariloverr @chasing-liberosis @mickslover @noncannonships

#waratah-vroom perfumes #mick schumacher instagram edit #mick schumacher x yn #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x y/n #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher smau #mick schumacher instagram #formula 1 #f1 instagram

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fan-fantasies · 9 months

Text

Whisper Sweet Nothings

A/N: this one won the vote so here ya go! Probably not quite what everyone imagined 😂

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Warnings: teasing, oral (f receiving), choking, good old game of strip wrestling, mentions of using a strap

Part Two

“You ready, darling?” Rhea asked, fixing up the details of her gear.

You were the newest member of Judgement Day and it was your first live appearance with them. You were nervous but you trusted all of them to take care of you.

“I’m ready,” you nodded, taking a deep breath.

While you were new to JD, you were not new in the WWE universe, and you were no stranger to Rhea. You weren’t best friends, but you had a playful backstage relationship and you were excited to get to work with her. Plus, it didn’t hurt she was pretty easy on the eyes.

“And her opponent, accompanied by the members of The Judgement Day… (your ring name)!”

You all stepped out onto the ramp and people booed. You put on your best sinister smile as you stared down your opponent in the ring.

Rhea leaned down to whisper in your ear like she does with Dom.

“You’ve got this, pretty girl. Easy win,” she said. You tried not to let the fact she called you pretty get to your head but it did give you an extra boost of confidence that allowed you the edge to win your match.

The crowd seemed to accept you as the newest member and you were glad. They especially loved your connection with Rhea. They loved when she was flirtatious and she loved to direct that energy toward you. You did your best to give it back, but you hated to admit that she made you flustered.

Summer Slam was just around the corner and you all decided to train a bit harder than usual. Rhea insisted on training with you so you could both learn from one another. It was more distracting than helpful, having her hands on your body so often.

“You okay, babe? You seemed distracted today,” she commented after your workout.

“Oh yeah, I’m good. Just haven’t been sleeping well is all,” you lied.

“I must not be working you hard enough then; let me know if you ever need me to come over and tire you out,” she said with a wink. Your eyes widened as the implication of her words sunk in. She walked away with a smirk on her face, leaving you speechless.

Her teasing continued in the days leading to the pay-per-view. You were tense, wanting an outlet for your frustration.

“We’re up next, let’s go!” Damian yelled, waiting to go on the ramp. You hurried to his side with Rhea hot on your heels.

“Calm down, we’re ready,” she scoffed, throwing an arm around you.

“If you two weren’t busy making out, we wouldn’t almost be late,” Finn said jokingly.

“We were not,” you retorted. He just rolled his eyes as your theme music came on.

You did your entrance as usual, Rhea coming up behind you and leaning down. You were expecting her usual simple comments but you were taken by surprise.

“Trust me, if we had been making out, we wouldn’t be out here right now. I’d still be between your legs making you scream my name,” she whispered. You had to use every ounce of self control to keep from reacting, your normal sadistic smirk struggling to stay on your face.

Your mind was spinning so fast you almost missed your line. You had to focus extra hard just to finish the segment.

Rhea kept an arm around you the entire time and held you tight against her. Every time you dared to look at her you found she was already looking at you. Her piercing blue eyes sent chills down your spine.

A match was announced for Summer Slam for the women’s tag team championship with you and Rhea competing. Once the bit had ended you rushed backstage to collect your thoughts.

She was just joking with you, right? She hadn't really been thinking about doing…that…with you. Had she?

“Great segment, love. Training tomorrow at 9?” She asked, sneaking up behind you. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of her voice.

“Y-yeah, that works,” you stuttered.

“You okay, babe? You seem tense,” she said, putting her hands on your shoulders. She began to massage them gently but it didn’t help your nerves.

“Never better; I’ll see you tomorrow!” You said, hurrying away.

You didn’t sleep well that night, worried about training with Rhea. You tried not to let your feelings come to the surface, but she was making it difficult with her lingering touches and tempting whispers.

The following morning you had an extra cup of coffee and made your way to the training area. It seemed as if you were the first one there, even beating Rhea.

You took the opportunity to stretch first, trying to loosen yourself up. You tried to get your mind into the right headspace and didn’t even notice the door opening and closing.

You jumped when you felt hands on your hips.

“Need some help warming up?” The accented voice asked from behind you.

“Jesus, Rhea! You gave me a heart attack!”

“Sorry, sweetheart; I did say hello when I walked in. Seems like your mind was somewhere else though,” she said with a hint of a smirk.

“Wonder why that is,” you mumbled, going back to your stretching.

She stood across from you and began stretching as well. You tried not to look at her but you couldn’t help it; she was way too gorgeous.

“I was thinking we could spar today,” she suggested, looking at you up and down.

“Sounds good to me,” you shrugged. You and Rhea had very different styles so it was beneficial to go up against one another.

The first couple rounds she took it easy on you and you could tell which only frustrated you more. You tried your best to get the upper hand but to no avail. Eventually, she pinned you, throwing your legs over her shoulders and grinding her hips into your ass as was her infamous pinning style.

“Are you even trying?” She asked, letting you up.

“Of course I’m trying!” You argued.

“How about we raise the stakes a bit, hm?”

“What did you have in mind?” You asked.

“For every pin, you take off a piece of clothing,” she answered. You must’ve misheard her.

“You can’t be serious; anyone could walk in!”

“I booked it just for us for the next hour. No one’s going to interrupt,” she replied. You thought it over for a minute- why the hell not? Worst case she gets some more material to tease you with.

“Fine, you’re on.”

“Really? I’m surprised you agreed,” she chuckled.

“Why’s that?”

“You always seem so uptight is all,” she said.

“I’m not uptight!” You shrieked. How dare she?

“Really? What is it then? Do I make you nervous?” She asked, stalking toward you. You swallowed hard and tried to stand tall.

“No, no you don’t,” you lied.

“Then let’s go.”

She looked at you like a predator looks at their prey before digging in. You squared up and you were determined to win. You fought harder than before, finding strength deep within. You wanted to prove yourself.

You finally got behind her and rolled her into a pin. It wasn’t the best but it did the trick.

“So do I get to pick what you take off?” You smirked. She rolled her eyes and took off her shirt leaving her in her sports bra. It was nothing new- sometimes she would workout in just that.

She quickly rushed at you, taking you off guard. She folded you in half, pinning your shoulders in under a minute.

“Don’t let yourself get distracted.”

You threw your shirt out of the ring and shook it off. If that’s how she wanted to play then so be it.

You pulled out all of your best moves but she was stronger and got the upper hand. She pinned you again and pointed to your leggings.

“Need any help getting them off?” She said with a smirk.

“I’m fine, thanks,” you mumbled angrily. You were left in your bra and underwear.

“That’s fine; I’ll take the next ones off with my teeth.” Her words set your core on fire, but you couldn’t let her play mind games with you.

You faked her out so you could run to the opposite side and climb the ropes. You jumped off without thinking, your legs landing over her shoulders. Your goal was to take her down, but she caught you easily. She looked up at you from between your thighs and you knew you were in trouble.

“Rhea, no!” You shouted before she slammed you to the mat. Your body bounced once before she was pinning you down.

“Decisions, decisions,” she said, running a finger down the length of your body, snagging on your panties and snapping them back.

You couldn’t move; one- because you were still reeling from that slam and two- because you were nervous now.

“My socks!” You said, remembering they technically counted.

“You’re no fun,” she sighed. “Next one, these are mine.” She grabbed your ass before pulling on your panties.

“If you get that far,” you snapped. She started to reply but you attacked her. You threw out every move you knew and eventually had her on her back. You resorted to sitting on her chest and finally pinned her.

“Pants. Now.”

“Sheesh, you’re bossy when you want something,” she sighed. She took off her pants and threw them at you, taking the distraction to rush you. You dodged her attack, however, and were the one on the offensive.

After minutes of back and forth, you were starting to fall behind. You managed to trip her, not your finest moment, but it allowed you to set up your finisher.

You pinned her with a victorious smile on your face. She scowled at you but wasted no time in pulling off her bra. Your jaw dropped at the sight before you. You certainly didn’t think this through- how could you focus now??

The answer was: you couldn’t. Rhea grabbed you and easily picked you up. She threw you on the ropes and when you bounced off she clotheslined you. She didn’t even bother pinning you, she just yanked off your underwear.

“Hey-“ you were cut off by her lips on yours. The kiss feverish and long overdue. You surrendered to her without a challenge, letting her hands roam your body. You pawed at her underwear, hinting for her to take them off.

“Nah, not so fast. You haven’t earned that yet,” she chuckled. You started to pout and she wrapped a hand around your throat. “You think you deserve my pussy?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Poor baby,” she sighed. “Don’t worry, love. You’ll get it. I’ve just been dying to taste you and I can’t wait.”

Her hand left your throat and she wrapped them around your thighs, pulling them open. She sunk down between them and licked her lips.

“I can see how wet you are and I haven’t even done anything,” she chuckled. “Or do you just like it that much when I throw you around?”

You didn’t answer so she slapped your cunt.

“Answer me.”

“Yes! Yes, I like it when you throw me around,” you said.

“Thought so,” she said before turning back to your pussy. She licked a thick strip up your center before focusing her attack on your clit. She had your head spinning and she had barely even begun.

Her fingers were digging into your hips as she held you in place. She ate you like a woman starved. No one had ever made you feel like that before and it had you chasing your high within minutes.

She circled your clit with her tongue before dipping it into you and fucking you with it. You started to grind your face against her and she moaned. She went back to sucking on your clit and it was enough to send you over the edge.

Her name spilled from your lips effortlessly, praising her over and over again. She slowed down, licking through your folds one more time before pulling away.

“Fuck, I wish I had my strap with me. I’d fucking destroy you,” she chuckled, watching you come undone before her. “Maybe that’ll be your reward if we win on Saturday. How does that sound?”

She crawled back up your body and kissed you. She bit down on your lip making you whimper.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, that sounds good. Please,” you begged.

“Such a good girl for Mami,” she smiled sweetly. She sat up and pulled her underwear off. “I think you’ve earned this now.”

She sat back and you eagerly laid down in front of her. You got comfortable before teasing your tongue through her folds. You were gentle, barely even touching her. You knew it would piss her off, and you were right.

“We’re not gonna play this game, love,” she growled before fisting a hand in your hair. She pulled you flush with her pussy and began to fuck herself against your face. You lapped at her pussy greedily and you had her a moaning mess almost instantly.

She slowed down and let you take the lead but didn’t loosen her grip on your hair.

You toyed with her clit before dipping into her entrance.

“Fuck, love. You’re doing such a good job,” she moaned. “You like when Mami fucks herself on your tongue?”

“Fuck, yes,” you answered eagerly.

She began to move her hips again in rhythm with your movements. She threw her head back and let herself get lost in the moment. Before you knew it, she was cumming on your tongue. You let her fuck your face as long as she needed to ride out your high. Plus, your name on her lips sounded too good to stop.

When she finally released you, you quickly crawled into her lap and pulled her in for a kiss. The taste of the both of you danced on your tongues. You were grinding on her lap and it made her laugh.

“Such a desperate little thing,” she teased. “I think our time is almost up, how about we take this back to my room?”

You simply nodded before throwing your clothes back on as quickly as possible. Rhea led you back to her room where she proved just how much you loved her throwing you around.

Saturday night came along rather quick, the crowd booing as your entrance played. You stood at the top of the ramp next to Rhea as she leaned down per usual.

“Just remember what your reward is if we win.”

——————

Please comment and reblog!

#rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley #wwe rhea ripley #rhea x reader #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x reader smut #wwe #rhea ripley fanfiction

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loveronlineee · 2 years

Text

Off Limits Part 2 (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist All Parts

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: None

Synopsis: Dustin’s worry turns to anger as Eddie and his sister seem to keep getting closer

Y/N notes: none

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

“And you promise me that’s all he said to you?” Dustin asked for the millionth time during the drive to school. Mike giggled to himself in the back seat.

“YES Dustin that’s all Eddie said to me. I still don’t get why you care so much.” Y/N huffed, keeping her eyes on the road. Dustin hesitated to tell her, but Mike didn’t.

“It’s because Eddie’s got the hots for you!” Mike shouted. Dustin turned around and glared at his friend.

“Really?” Dustin turned back to his sister.

“Uh why are you smiling?”

“I’m not smiling.” Y/N denied, smiling. Dustin’s eyes widened.

“Oh my god NO. You can’t actually like him.”

“What? I didn’t say anything!” Y/N joked, smile still on her face. Dustin huffed in frustration.

“I’d rather you dated one of those basketball douches than Eddie.”

“But Eddie’s your friend?”

‘Yeah Eddie’s friend material! Not boyfriend material!’

“How’d you know? You dated him?” Mike started laughing again from the back, angering Dustin more. They reached school and the boys got out of the car. Dustin leaned through the window and pointed at Y/N.

“Stay away from Eddie Munson.”

“You can’t stop fate Dustin. I can’t help it if Eddie falls for my charisma and beauty!” Now Dustin was really worried. They were sounding very similar.

“JUST STAY AWAY FROM HIM!” He shouted one last time before entering the school. Y/N chuckled to herself as she drove back round to find a parking space.

She didn’t see Eddie or the boys all morning. And didn’t plan on it as she decided to eat her lunch at the picnic bench she liked in the forest. It was quiet and peaceful there. A good place to go when the school lunch hall was overwhelming.

“Y/N?” Eddie questioned.

“JESUS H Christ Eddie! You tryna kill me?” Y/N jumped as she turned to see him walking towards her. Eddie smiled and sat down opposite the girl.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t realise you came out here.”

“Yeah sometimes. When I wanna be alone.” Eddie’s smile dropped.

“Oh. Right okay got it. I’ll leave.” He began getting back up when Y/N held his wrist.

“No it’s okay, you can stay.” She said softly. Eddie’s smile returned and he sat back down. Y/N moved her hand away and back to her lunch. She picked up her chopsticks. Eddie frowned and observed.

“What are you eating?”

“Sushi.”

“Sushi?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had sushi.”

“Can’t say that I have Henderson.” Y/N picked up a piece with her chopsticks and held it up to him.

“This ones my favourite.” Eddie cautiously took it from her. It was surprisingly good.

“Woah.”

“I know right.” Y/N beamed. “What are you having for lunch?”

“Eh nothing.”

“Nothing?!” Eddie shrugged.

“I usually skip lunch. Not anything worth taking from home anyways.” He said it in a joking tone but Y/N was still concerned. “So how come you eat this and Dustin has cold pizza?” Y/N chuckled.

“We pack our own lunch.” Eddie nodded in understanding. “I like cooking. I’d make Dustin’s lunch too but he doesn’t like the stuff I make.”

“Well I for one think that this sushi is the best sushi ever made.” Eddie stated. Y/N laughed which made Eddie’s smile widen.

“EDDIE!” Dustin shouted as he ran up to the table.

“Dustin what are you-“

“Y/N why are you alone in the woods with him?” Dustin demanded to know.

“Chill out bud.” Eddie said, holding his hands up innocently. Dustin pointed a stern finger at him.

“I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Dustin calm down. I came out here to eat my lunch and Eddie happened to find me.” Y/N calmly explained, but her little brother wasn’t having it. He grabbed Y/N’s arm and began to pull her away.

“Come on let’s go. Lunch is gonna end soon.”

“Wha- Dustin!” Y/N managed to grab her bag before she was dragged away. Eddie put the lid back on her box of sushi and jumped over the picnic bench to hand it back. Y/N smiled at him before pulling Dustin off her and walking beside him. “You are surprisingly strong.”

“Yeah I’ve been working out.”

“You have? With what? Mom’s work out VHS?”

“Shut up.”

“See ya later Hendersons!” Eddie shouted back. Y/N waved and Dustin whacked her hand down. Eddie chuckled to himself.

It seems that there was an obstacle in his way.

Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries @ruhro7 @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski @gh0stm3g @lagataprrr @spencersbookbag @ygrworld @ambernicole90 @alwaysbeenfamous @angelsarecallin @voteforevilthoughts @iameddiemunsonshair @hellf1reclub @phobles-world @isshecleverorisshecrazy @olrjmarvete @b-bella9 @ultraoliviajeromethings-blog @beatlebeesstuff @korescomaactually @bilesxbilinskixlahey @darkened-writer @nightless @gnkkstarz @cullenswife @killergoddessmm @preciousbabypeter @uselessbutinteresting @frogtits1 @lotus-es @padfootpottah99 @siriuslysmoking @enoumen-t @marrigold-2002 @nightless @the-mysterious-miss-s @olrjmarvete @evie-119 @rand0m—fangirl @felicityofbakerstreet @lotus-es @v0idl1nq @stv-1-ncent @eiviea @iheartcb @grumpyy-bearr @purple-flamingo @eddiessoulmate @violetrainbow412-blog @mcueveryday @marauders3rawh0re @ravenhood2792 @dragonalpha54 @slytherinintj13 @pastel-abyss-x @missscarlettangel @charli123456789 @henhouse-horrors @erikaar @golden-hoax @fairynamjoonie @caramelkatsukis-bitch @sun-faced @somerandomasgardian @helensophie @avobabe87 @s-u-t @superheavymetalunicorn @low-keyyyyy

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #reader x Eddie Munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season four #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #reader x stranger things #stranger things imagine

5K notes · View notes

asdfghjklmals · 9 months

Text

WHEREVER YOU ARE✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff, angst. WORD COUNT: 3.6k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, established couple. adoptedkiddo! tsumiki.

SYNOPSIS: tsumiki wants to study abroad for high school, but satoru gojo is against it. will satoru let tsumiki go? AUTHOR'S NOTE: ***manga spoilers*** because of what happened to tsumiki in the manga, i decided to write a more wholesome version of what i would think tsumiki would've wanted to do. she is going to make small appearances and still have her name mentioned in my future fics, but this is dedicated to her. and because i think satoru loved having her as his child 💚 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

you sat down on the couch, “satoru, we need to talk.”

“i swear, babe, it wasn’t megumi’s fault.” he stared at you innocently with his hands raised.

“megumi?” you looked at him, brows furrowed and confused, “no, babe, we need to talk about tsumiki.”

satoru sighed in relief, glad he didn’t get himself in trouble. he didn’t want you to find out about megumi getting sent to the principal’s office for fighting at school today. that was another lecture for another day.

“what’s going on with my favorite child?” satoru joked, putting his arm around your shoulder.

you explained the situation to satoru, “now that tsumiki is graduating middle school, we had a grown adult talk about her future plans. she told me she wants to study abroad for high school. she wants to learn english so she can teach kids here in japan after she graduates.”

“absolutely not. she’s staying here.” satoru said without even thinking. no reasoning to support his decision.

“but babe, i think it’s a good idea. she’s 15 and starting high school next year. there are good study abroad programs out there. and it's great to live in country of the language you want to the learn.” you said, trying to justify tsumiki’s decision to satoru.

“no, (y/n).” he said sternly. since when did he ever directly call you by your first name instead of a petname? and since when did he want to play patriarch? you were usually the shot-caller in this household.

it was time for the back up plan if all else failed. kisses. you grabbed satoru’s hand and peppered it with your soft lips. “please? for me and tsumiki?”

he looked at you and took his hand away. you stared back at him in disbelief, “satoru gojo, what is your problem today?” even the government name didn’t make him flinch like it usually did.

he never acted like this, even when he disagreed with you, he was usually calm and rational. he would have data and reasons to back up his decisions, but not today.

“i just don’t think a 15 year old girl needs to go study abroad in another country without her guardians.” he said bitterly, “and that’s final.”

he removed his hand from your thigh and got up from the couch, leaving you alone in the living room as he made his way to the patio to join catoru in the sun. your jaw dropped. what was wrong with him today?

later that night: tsumiki's room

“(y/n), did you ask gojo-sensei if i can study abroad?” tsumiki asked curiously as you towel dried her long brown hair for her. she had spent the last week convincing you about letting her attend a private academy in california, and you were totally on board with it until satoru shot you down earlier today.

“i did… he wasn’t too happy to hear what i had to say though.” you frowned at her. she looked at you with sad eyes.

“what did he say?”

“he thinks that you’re too young to study abroad and that you should stay here in japan with us.”

“i’m not a baby, (y/n).” tsumiki said, “why can’t gojo-sensei see that i can take care of myself?”

you thought out loud, “maybe because you’re his little girl... his partner in crime. he doesn’t want to lose that. you know what a softie he is.”

“yeah, but it’s not like i'll be gone forever! i can come home for the semester breaks and i’ll always have my cell phone with me!”

“i know, sweetheart. coming from how i grew up, i think this would be a great experience for you.” you commented as you thought about how you wanted to attend jujutsu high instead of being homeschooled when you were tsumiki’s age. (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

tsumiki sighed in defeat, “can’t you give him a kiss or something? he never says no to you.”

“believe me, i tried.” you chuckled, “he pushed me away and said no.” you and tsumiki both knew satoru gojo's weaknesses.

“what?!” tsumiki gasped, “that man is so obsessed with you and he did what?!”

“i know, that’s the last time he’ll be getting any kisses from me.” you stated, sitting down on her bed.

“well, that’s just mean.” satoru interrupted your girls only conversation. his tall frame leaning against tsumiki's bedroom door, arms folded.

tsumiki smiled, “oh, hi gojo-sensei!”

“hi tsumiki.” satoru greeted her, sitting down on her bed next to you. tsumiki sat on the floor. “(y/n) says you have something you wanted to talk to me about.”

"oh... yes!" tsumiki nervously laughed, scratching the back of her head. "well, since i'm graduating middle school, i wanted to ask you and (y/n) if i can attend this boarding school in california. it's called e.f. academy."

"okay, if you're going to go this far away, you're going to have to convince me. so tell me more." satoru encouraged her.

"well..." tsumiki started to word vomit, "it's a private high school academy with small classes. they have a lot of extra curricular activities and travel opportunities. they'll prepare me for college. they have advisors that i can talk to if we need anything..."

"tsumiki, can't you do all of this here? why do you have to go so far away?" satoru asked. this was his way of being 'reasonable'. he was starting to ask questions so he could make the best decision.

tsumiki was smart and calculated, just as you and satoru raised her to be. she started her rebuttal, "you and (y/n) have always taught me and megumi that we are not going to grow if we don't step out of our comfort zone. you even told megumi to be greedier, so this is me being greedy."

satoru nodded his head, "okay. give me a week to think about it. don't bother (y/n) and don't ask her to give me kisses because that's unfair."

you smiled as you watched satoru and tsumiki talk. they were really a father-daughter duo, partners in crime, two peas in a pod. you missed the days where your 6 year old adopted daughter used to keep your 18 year old boyfriend in check.

"really? you'll really think about it?" tsumiki asked satoru with a hopeful gleam in her eye.

"yes. i promise." he answered.

tsumiki stuck out her pinky as satoru laughed. he intertwined his pinky with hers, both of them kissing their pinkies to seal the deal. (read 'pinky promises' here)

one week later: satoru's office

satoru knew that he only had one week to make a decision that would change his life and ultimately, tsumiki's life. megumi and you were all for tsumiki studying abroad, while he was the only one against it.

"she's the only one that doesn't have cursed energy. she can't see curses and she can't attend jujutsu high with us." megumi's comment ran through satoru's mind. it was true, being the only one who couldn't see curses or practice jujutsu in the family could feel alien. but tsumiki never expressed that she felt alone.

satoru sighed while he sat in his expensive office chair. he knew that he was going to have to give tsumiki an answer today. he still wanted to say no, but his heart knew the right decision was to say yes and let her be free to be her own person.

he heard a knock on his office door. the four signature knocks signaling it was you (or him). ten years later, that has never changed.

"gojo-sensei?" your saccharine voice called out for him as you opened his door.

he greeted you with a bright flashy smile, "i love it when you call me that."

you rolled your emerald green eyes at him as you made your way towards his desk, sitting against it. "did you make a decision yet?"

"i'm thinking about it." he mused.

"you know our baby girl is waiting for an answer. she's at cheer practice right now, so she should be home at 6 today." you commented.

"let me take one last walk and i promise i'll be home on time for dinner." satoru huffed. you leaned down to kiss him before heading back to your office. he grabbed your hand, stopping you.

"wait, can i get another kiss?" he requested with a shit-eating grin.

your radiant laugh filled his office. he peeked one of his shiny blue eyes out of his blindfold. you turned back around to grab his chin with your hand.

"see you at home." you whispered, kissing him again fervently.

***************************************

satoru decided to take the long way home instead of teleporting. he wanted the last couple hours to himself to think.

why was he so against tsumiki studying abroad? he thought about the conversation he had with you last night.

"i think you have abandonment issues, satoru. that's why you won't let tsumiki leave japan." you realized as he pulled you closer to him in bed, your gentle hand resting against his bare chest.

"hmmm. you think so?" he mumbled, pulling your chin up for a sweet peck on the lips.

"i know so."

abandonment. the first person who came to satoru's mind was suguru geto, his bestfriend. the original partner in crime. a person who he loved and cared about til' this day.

"losing suguru really changed you, babe. and that's okay. you've become a better man because of it." you said softly.

"i guess you're right." satoru acknowledged. he sighed deeply and closed his eyes. he felt your delicate breathing against his skin as he fell asleep.

it was true, what you had said. satoru didn't want to be left behind again. even though he knew that tsumiki wasn't actually leaving him behind, he didn't like the fact that another person he loved and cared about wasn't going to always be present in his life.

he knew that if he kept her here, she would just grow up pushing him away or maybe even resenting him. and he couldn't have that. he knew what he had to do. he was going to let tsumiki go.

later that night: family dinner

"so... did you make a decision, gojo-sensei?" tsumiki interjected at dinner.

yours and megumi's green eyes met at the dinner table. the ball was in satoru's court now.

"i did, sweetheart." satoru said calmly. you and megumi extremely curious, tsumiki's heart beating quickly.

"you can go."

"really?!" tsumiki jumped out of her chair.

"really." satoru confirmed.

tsumiki cheered and squealed in delight. running to hug satoru. she ran to her room and grabbed her acceptance letter to show the white haired sorcerer.

"you already have an acceptance letter?" megumi questioned his sister.

"they have a 99% acceptance rate, so it doesn't matter. but i wanted to show gojo-sensei anyways." she beamed.

"i guess they just let anyone into that school." megumi muttered. you kicked him under the table as he shot a glare black at you.

"when is the first day?" satoru asked you and tsumiki.

you answered, "classes start in two weeks. i already bought our plane tickets and made sure our passports were good to go, tsumiki has her student visa ready as well."

"you already bought our plane tickets?" satoru questioned, chuckling, "and what were you going to do if i said no?"

"i knew you wouldn't have said no, babe. you can't say no to me or tsumiki to save your life." you grinned.

"she's right about that." megumi added. tsumiki nodding in agreement. she did get catoru because satoru said yes. (read 'the purrr-fect approach' here)

"i can definitely say no to (y/n)." satoru defended himself as his family ganged up on him.

you picked up your empty plate, and walked to satoru side, "can i get a kiss before i start the dishes?"

"sure, babe." he replied with no hesitation as he gave you a quick peck, unaware of your tricky mind games.

"see? you can't say no." you laughed as you picked up the rest of the empty dinner plates and utensils.

"what did i say about using kisses as a weapon?!" satoru complained. "that's so unfair!"

the dining room was filled with laughter from you, megumi, tsumiki, and satoru.

two weeks later: tsumiki fushiguro takes california

satoru was glued to tsumiki by the hip for the past two weeks. they went shopping together for all her academic needs, for new clothes, a laptop, and a new matching backpack and suitcase. they went to get their hair cut together, and even got their nails done together (satoru loved getting pedicures, you thought it was because of the foot massages). he wanted to spend as much time with tsumiki as possible before parting ways.

orientation for tsumiki's school was a two day event. during the first day, the families would be given a tour of the school and then everyone would attend a social hour to get to know the faculty and other students. the second day, the families would help their student move into their dorms and say their goodbyes until semester break in the late fall, early winter.

during the first day of orientation, tsumiki had already started to make friends. she was just like you. beautiful, nice, caring, friendly. people wanted to be around her and wanted to be her friend. you and satoru watched from the sidelines of the gymnasium as tsumiki mingled with her new classmates.

"are you still worried about her? she's already getting used to things here." you tried to comfort satoru as you watched your future high schooler.

"i was hoping she'd beg us to take her home." satoru frowned. you smacked his chest playfully with the back of your hand.

"mr. and mrs. gojo," a student aide approached the both of you, "can you sign these papers for tsumiki? these are the final documents for admissions."

"sure thing." satoru replied, grabbing the clipboard and pen from the student aide. you waited until they walked away to turn to satoru.

"mr. and mrs. gojo. what did you think about that?" you sneered.

satoru chuckled as he signed the document, "sounds like music to my ears."

"give me a 10 carat diamond ring first, babe." you grinned as satoru handed you the clipboard to sign the document too.

satoru gojo would give you the world if you asked for it.

"(y/n)! gojo-sensei!" tsumiki shouted from across the gymnasium to catch your attention. she waved while pointing at the two of you. she was showing her new friends who her cool and awesome parents were. you and satoru waved back at her, giving her both of your world-class smiles.

***************************************

satoru used blue to hold up all of tsumiki's luggage as the three of you made your way to the dorm room that tsumiki would be staying in. you and satoru paid extra to make sure that she would get her own room. you sat down on the empty bed, tsumiki joining you.

"what do you think, sweetheart?"

"with a little extra decorating, i can make it look like my room at home." she said with a bright smile.

you and satoru helped put on the bed spread, duvet cover, and pillow cases while tsumiki unpacked her clothes and placed them into her small dresser.

you could feel satoru tensing up, his cursed energy spiking every now and then. he was dreading saying goodbye to tsumiki. whenever he would look at you, you would give him a soft smile and rub his back in reassurance.

"gojo-sensei, (y/n), look what megumi gave me for my dorm room." tsumiki's brown eyes twinkled as she showed you a pink sparkly picture frame.

the picture frame contents were of the four of you. it was a recent picture from tsumiki's 15th birthday. you had your arms around megumi while satoru had his arms around tsumiki. it was a rare occasion that megumi was smiling in a picture. tsumiki's signature bright smile lit up the picture. you could feel the love radiating from the frame.

"megumi says that this picture will be a reminder of home and that you all love me."

"he's right." you patted her head, brushing her brown hair. "are you sure you want to do this? it's not too late to change your mind. we can go back home if you want."

"no, i'm sure!" tsumiki said confidently.

you laughed, "you're breaking satoru's heart, baby girl." you hugged satoru, his arms were folded as he quietly laughed, shaking his head.

***************************************

you and satoru spent your last couple of hours with tsumiki reminiscing about her younger days and what kind of child she was growing up.

"remember the day that satoru lost you and megumi at kanda matsuri? i was going to have a heart attack."

satoru shot you a glare, "in my defense, there are thousands of people at that festival. it's one of japan's big three festivals! they were like four feet tall at the time! i told you we needed to get them those child leashes."

"you were such a responsible girl, going to the lost and found." you ignored satoru and laughed, remembering that tsumiki went to the lost and found to have the festival employee announce 'satoru gojo, can you please come to the lost and found to pick up your children'.

"remember the one day gojo-sensei forgot your anniversary?" tsumiki peered at satoru, giggling.

"oh god... don't bring that up." satoru hid his face in his hands.

"what was that? our third year of dating?" you asked satoru, "and your cute 9 year old partner in crime saved you that day. she went to the flower shop down the street and bought lilies with your credit card."

"then how did you find out that i forgot if she saved me?" satoru interrupted you.

"because you always get me roses, even though my favorite flowers are lilies. not only is tsumiki responsible, she's extremely thoughtful." (read 'lilies and roses' here)

"remember when tsumiki brought me a homemade lunch for teachers day?" satoru smiled at the fond memory. tsumiki was only 8 years old when satoru got an official teaching position at jujutsu high.

"it was her idea too," you reminded satoru, "she asked me to help her bring your lunch to the school that day. our baby girl is so caring. what did we do to deserve such an amazing daughter?" you gushed at your 15 year old, hugging her tightly. tsumiki just smiled and laughed like she always did.

"i think i'm the lucky one too! what did me and megumi do to deserve such loving adoptive parents?!" she remarked.

"all you two had to do was look cute. that's why i picked you two up off the streets." satoru joked. (read 'learn to love' here)

you heard a knock on tsumiki's dorm door, tsumiki opening it. the resident assistant announced, "curfew is starting soon. parents are going to be saying goodbye to their students in the courtyard."

you felt satoru's cursed energy spike again. he wasn't ready for this moment, and honestly, neither were you. you weren't sure what was going to break your heart the most: letting tsumiki go or watching satoru leave a piece of his (still) healing heart behind.

you and satoru quietly followed behind tsumiki as she confidently led the way to the courtyard. it was like she belonged here at the academy the way she navigated through the halls. the courtyard was dimly lit, the california skyline in the background, clouds kissing the top of the city buildings.

you watched as satoru sneakily wiped his tears away from his cerulean blue eyes. he crouched down, softly smiling at tsumiki.

“you gonna be okay without your partner in crime?” he asked her.

as strong as tsumiki was, her brave face started to falter. her warm brown eyes brimmed with tears as she ran into satoru’s arms for one last hug before you and satoru had to leave the campus.

tsumiki babbled through her tears, “thanks for letting me come to school here… i promise i’ll study really hard... i love you and (y/n) so much. you two are the best mom and dad ever.”

satoru scoffed through his tears and continued to hold her. you put a reassuring hand on satoru’s shoulder, joining them for a group hug. tsumiki looked up at the both of you with flushed cheeks.

you kissed the top of her precious head, an action that she never grew out of (and you hoped she never would). you smiled back at her with tears in your eyes, “wherever you are, baby girl, satoru and i will always be one call away. we love you and we’re so proud of you, tsumiki.”

"no boyfriends, please." satoru added with a chuckle. he didn't think he could handle another heart attack.

EXTRA:

"did you see how much tuition costs at tsumiki's boarding school?" you asked satoru as he sat down in his first class airline seat.

"no, i didn't even bother check the brochure they handed us at orientation." satoru stretched his long legs, "how much could a high school tuition cost? one or two thousand a year?"

you just laughed at his ridiculous comment. you were amused at how naive he was.

"what? why are you laughing?"

"try seventy, babe." you stared at him. satoru looked like he was going to have a brain aneurysm.

"seventy what? seventy dollars or seventy thousand?"

you annunciated each word clearly so he could understand you. "seventy. thousand. dollars. a. year."

satoru fake-clutched his chest, "we have to go back and withdraw her, immediately."

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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darling-i-read-it · 9 months

Text

Whispers

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: insidious 5 spoilers, literally i think tahts it

Author’s Note: In theory this is a part 2 to blue paint but honestly could be written by itself if you just squint lol. Everyone wanted me to write more for dalton and i was at WORK people but i am here to provide a plotless fluff. An old classic style of mine 🫡Also this fic could literally be called ‘maya googles whispered synonyms’

Everyone that asked to be tagged <3 : @geeksareunique, @chaoticxbee, @snixx2088, @ellaneyt, @bespinnn,

Summary: The night you and Dalton just kind of let your relationship silently grow to avoid the horror of his situation.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You could feel sleep starting to overtake you. It was in your eyes, the drooping of your lids as you sat against the twin bed. Dalton was sitting on the ground as well, across from you. You narrowed your gaze at him, pursing your lips. You both had class in the morning. He still had blue paint stained on his face. You had leaned him over the sink and scrubbed to no avail. Finally you had both given up, conceding to his embarrassment in the morning.

The sticky heat of the day had given way for the night chills. You could feel the difference in the cracked window. The breeze had started to get to you so you threw a blanket over your shoulders.

Dalton, not wanting to fall asleep, sat across from you with a hoodie on.

“Uno.”

“No way,” you muttered. You looked at the cards in front of you, a large stack turned upwards and a yellow 7 card on top. “You just had like 15 cards. Take off your hoodie.”

“No!” Dalton exclaimed, laughing a bit.

“You’re cheating. There’s no way I missed that. I’m literally the only other person here,” you offered. He shook his head. The clock was ticking away past midnight.

“It’s late, you’re just starting to get delirious.” You shook your head, tossing your stack of cards down beside you. Usually you would never let a game go, especially one that was decently close. But you weren’t sure if you were even going to wake up to your alarm in the morning, let alone go to class.

“Am not.”

“I told you to go to bed hours ago.”

“Didn’t want you to sleepwalk on me,” you muttered.

“Astral project.”

“Whatever.” You looked up at the window. You could see the moon outside tonight in the clear sky. It had been a while since you saw the nighttime in a peaceful way. You were so used to being passed out by the time any kind of sereneness came along, or at a party trying not to pass out. It had been too long since it was just you and the night sky. And Dalton.

Your phones were laying on the bedside table, out of the way and silent. You told Dalton to call his mom but he refused. He said he could do it on his own. He was probably just overreacting, he promised you. Overreacting didn’t make someone stay up late before an 8:30 class but you decided not to mention that.

“I think I’m out D,” you muttered through a yawn. He nodded. He still looked wide awake, sans the bags under his eyes.

“I wish we had a TV in here.”

“Then we could watch Nightmare on Elm Street,” you joked. He half smiled, one of his cute little smirks. When you came to college you never thought you would admire these quieter nights the most.

“Yeah.” You stretched, trying to shake the sleep out of your eyes.

“I think I’m still gonna try to go to class tomorrow.”

“You know I don’t have a choice.” You nodded once and stood up, stretching. You felt your body expand as a satisfying calmness came over your body. Dalton grabbed the uno cards at your feet and started to put them in the box. “My last card was red by the way. You could’ve won it.”

“Rematch tomorrow,” you suggested. You put your blanket over the empty bed. It looked like it hadn’t been slept in. There was no indent of a human having been there, no one having a good night's sleep. Though it didn’t look exactly comforting, it also didn’t look unappealing to your tired mind. Dalton had given you one of his pillows. You plugged in your phone beside you and glanced over at Dalton’s side of the room. You had looked at his drawings before but never studied them.

Things seemed clearer at night.

There was a picture of his mom at the piano above his pillow. He was moving around, shuffling, getting ready for bed and doing the last things he needed to. His head obscured your view.

“She’s beautiful,” you whispered. “Your mom.” He looked at his sketch like he had forgotten it was there.

“Thanks,” he muttered. His eyes lingered for a moment. You wanted to ask if he missed her but you didn’t. Putting him in that sort of emotional position would’ve been too much for so late. “She writes music. I remember when I was a kid she would sit at the piano when she had a moment to herself. My dad was always working so I guess I thought it was her job.” He shrugged. His eyes moved away.

“She sounds like a nice lady.”

“She is. She deserves better than that guy,” he grumbled. He sat down on his bed. You were still sitting on yours. You hadn’t climbed under the covers, even though the cold was nipping at your arms. Chris’s words lingered in your brain for a bit, the prospect of staying in the same twin bed. You shook it off and went to grab the edge of the blanket.

Dalton’s eyes stayed on you. He didn’t want to go to bed yet.

“Do you mind the night light?” he asked, voice laced with exhaustion and a little embarrassment.

“Nope. I like a little mood lighting.” You climbed under the covers. Once your head hit in the pillow it was like relief flooded through your bones. You reached up and turned off the lamp beside the bed. You could still see the outline of Dalton. His face, his hair. “I like your hair when it’s down,” you whispered. Your voice was gentle, slightly fueled by the lack of sleep. You could see him turn to look at you as he was getting under the covers. You nuzzled your head into the pillow.

“Thank you,” he muttered, awkwardly. You smiled. You liked it when he squirmed a little bit.

“I set an alarm.”

“Okay.” There was a silence. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Dalton,” you whispered. Your name hung on his lips but he didn’t say it out loud. Instead he just watched as your eyes shut into an even calmness. The contours of your face were illuminated by his night light.

He rested his cheek against the pillow.

He admitted to being potentially dangerous to you and you stayed. He felt safer with you. Like he wasn’t in this alone.

You fell asleep in 15 minutes. He could tell because your face was completely relaxed. There was no tenseness in your features, no worries about anything except getting rest. When he was positive you had drifted off he sat up, grabbing his sketchbook off the center table.

He had drawn nothing but dark memories lately. A red door with blood haunted him. A face he didn’t recognize but one that he knew, watched him sleep. After the darkness flooding his brain he was happy to think of his mom. He was happy to remember her when she was tranquil. He liked the sketches that were less cursed.

He started to sketch you.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness easily. Maybe if he was super tired the next night then he wouldn't be able to dream or astral project. Just sleep. He wouldn’t mind spending tonight sketching you with observing eyes. He drew your hair as it fell in front of your face. The way your fingers gripped the blanket. Your eyes, fluttering with dreams. He wondered what you were dreaming of. He wondered if you ever dreamt of him.

Just the thought brought a redness to his cheeks.

He grabbed his airpod to put on some music.

The room was so still.

Your blanket touching the ground. The wind from the cracked window. Your even breathing, mixing with his, the only living sounds in the space. His dried paint on the table. The light from the hallway seeping in under the door. His unpacked bag at the foot of your bed.

Your bed. That wasn’t your bed. That was an empty bed, one that would be filled by anybody.

He sketched your nose.

That could be your bed. He had nothing against that. A sleepover every night, a buddy to help protect him from the nightmares. He thought of his parents. His brother. His little sister. He was safe.

He turned the focus onto your closed eyes. He was listening to some indie rock or something, whatever he had playing from earlier. He wondered what kind of music you listened to.

You moved. You hummed under your breath, eyes fluttering open. It hadn’t been that long since you fell asleep, maybe only an hour. It was two in the morning.

You forced your eyes open. Dalton was still awake, sitting against the wall.

“Still can’t sleep?” you whispered. The sleep remained in your eyes.

“Not sure where I’ll float too.” You nodded. You slowly sat up, keeping your blanket around your shoulder. “What’re you doing?” he whispered. Speaking any louder would break the muffled moment.

You shuffled over to his side of the room. He looked up at you, shielding his sketchbook. You barely noticed it. You stood at the side of his bed. There was a beat where neither of you moved. You nodded towards the bed.

“Lay down.” He squinted, unsure of what your intentions were. He put the sketchbook on the side of the bed, onto the floor. He had it facing the ground so you wouldn’t see your face. He couldn’t let you know how he perceived you quite yet.

He did as he was told. When he was comfortable you moved his blanket aside and got under the covers. You put your blanket over his so you had double the warmth.

Dalton froze.

Did he put his hand on you? Did he just let you be? He had to touch you, there was no way he could sleep here, stiff as a board, all night.

“I don’t have cooties D,” you whispered. You easily got comfortable beside him. Your eyes stayed open as you looked at him, straight ahead. “You can touch me,” you said, even lower, so much so that your voice almost gave out. “If this is okay.”

“It’s okay,” he promised. You smiled sleepily.

He put his hand on your side and you pushed yourself closer to him. You took the initiative and placed your hand over his waist. He moved so that you could nuzzle yourself into his chest. He tried not to breathe too heavily but he was sure you could hear his heart beating out of his chest.

“Sleep,” you breathed. “I’ll keep you grounded.”

His breath hitched. He finally closed his eyes.

He fell asleep quickly with you in his arms. He remained in his spot the whole night, the first time in a week.

#dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert x fem!reader #dalton lambert imagines #insidious the red door spoilers

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yelena-bellova · 9 months

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: All That You Are

Plot: A chaotic press conference precedes a match that ends in violence.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: f!reader, language, minor violence

A/N: I’m gonna chalk this week’s chapters up to having some free time and also being really motivated to get to the next few. Phew, let me tell you…this is the last chance I’m giving y’all to breathe. The final act kicks off in the next chapter and we don’t stop till the very end…so everybody enjoy the fluff and the jokes while you’ve got them 🙃

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged and, as always, enjoy!

————————

AFC Richmond’s hot streak just…kept…going.

They were killing it, both at matches and training. More importantly, they were happy. Joyful, even. Which meant everyone else was too.

More and more fans started showing up to watch training till eventually, the stands were packed. Y/n had begun to come out more often, genuinely enjoying watching the boys practice, and had found a way to make it a PR matter. She helped get the crowd riled up, engaging with them and encouraging them to cheer and chant for their players. She’d collected whatever merchandise they had a surplus of, pens or coffee mugs usually, and made a game of handing them out to the fans that came. Ted had encouraged her to keep doing it, it only further fostered the atmosphere he wanted to create.

Y/n hurried upstairs one day in particular, having missed the alarm set on her phone while she was hauling a bag of freebies from the gift shop to her office. She was never late and felt like she was going to burst into flames for being so.

“Whoa,” Ted called, just a few steps behind her, “Someone call Allyson Felix. Let her know she better watch her back.”

Y/n hung back on the landing to catch her breath, falling back in step once Ted caught up. “We ran out of the mugs the other day but I’ve got coasters and coozies for this afternoon.”

“Ooh,” Ted exclaimed, “You’ve been killin’ it in the swag department, missy. Everyone’s a little more hyped knowing they get a prize just for participation.”

Y/n grunted, “Trophies for doing nothing is also why my generation hates work, so don’t applaud me yet.”

They entered Rebecca’s office laughing only to find the atmosphere contrasting their good moods. Spread out on the couch, Keeley had her face buried in Rebecca’s lap.

“Uh-oh,” Ted announced his presence, “When girl-talk turns into girl-hug, you know that either means something horrible’s happened, or absolutely nothing at all.”

“Please say nothing at all,” Y/n set her purse down and grabbed the takeaway box Rebecca had ordered for her.

“Jack’s ghosting Keeley,” their boss explained.

“Oh, no,” Ted frowned.

Y/n sunk into the cushion beside Keeley, rubbing her shoulder as the blonde snuggled back under Rebecca’s arm.

“First, she wants to go on a break,” Ted recounted, “And now the old digital Irish goodbye. Which is a term I never really understood. ‘Cause I got a buddy back home named Seamus O’Malley, and that son of a gun hugs folks goodbye for, like, twenty minutes before he leaves anywhere.”

Y/n smiled down at her salad. The last few months may have softened her, but decades could pass and Ted would remain the same.

“Yeah,” he looked to Keeley, “Sorry to hear about that. Hey, I did make you some biscuits, you know, just to soften the blow.”

“Oh, thanks Ted,” Keeley took the pink package from him and opened it. Her eye blew open, “What? There’s like forty quid in here.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were gonna be here till this morning,” Ted explained, “No time to do anything special so I just tossed a little cash in there.”

Keeley nodded, “That is very sweet. Thank you, Ted.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to it but to do it,” he shrugged, turning to Rebecca, “Hey, boss. You mind if I skip the press conference today? Michelle and I got these parent-teacher meetings I don’t wanna miss.”

Rebecca shrugged and smiled, “Of course, Ted. Family first.”

“I appreciate it.”

“So…” Y/n trailed off, “Who’s next in line?”

A metaphorical lightbulb went off over Keeley’s head. “We could have Roy do it,” she suggested, “I know he hates that stuff, but he is really good at it.”

Y/n struggled to see the “good” part of how Roy handled the press. On her last count, he’d cussed out no more than six reporters.

“I mean, you know, fine by me,” Ted replied.

Rebecca agreed, “Great idea.”

“Look at you,” Ted smiled at Keeley, “Heartbroken, but still kickin’ butt.”

“I mean, I’m not heartbroken,” Keeley fidgeted in her seat, “It’s more like heart-bent.”

“Heart-bent,” Ted mused, “I like that. It’s a great title for a country song. You know, like,” he began to sing, “I’m heart-bent, in my apartment, ‘cause all that you left, was your fart scent.”

“Alright. Goodbye, Ted,” Rebecca cued him up to leave, though Keeley was laughing and Y/n was smiling through a bite of spinach.

“And now that you’re gone,” Ted continued on his way out to the hall, “I wrote this song, ‘cause all you left was, the smell of your farts.”

Y/n pointed to the door with her fork, “Speaking on behalf of our homeland, we can do better than that.”

Rebecca snorted and Keeley rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder.

“Right,” she held out her hand, “Show me.”

Keeley handed it over and Y/n bore witness to the mile long chain of texts her boss had sent their boss. It was embarrassing to say the least, but Y/n wasn’t about to kick Keeley when she was already laid out.

“Wow,” she strained as she scrolled.

“I know,” Keeley moaned.

“It’s like a river,” Y/n mused as she surfed the rest of the blue bubbles, “Can you promise one thing?”

Keeley hummed.

Y/n handed her phone back, “No more. She’s the one that stomped on you, she gets to do the groveling.”

And grovel she should. From what Keeley had told Y/n, Jack had handled their conversation regarding the video leak and the so-called “statement” horrifically. Jack seemed offended that Keeley had dared to have a meaningful relationship before her. It was jealousy where jealousy didn’t belong.

Whereas Y/n was still struggling to comprehend Jamie and Keeley ever having been together.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Keeley threw her phone on the other side of the couch, “I’m done.”

“Good,” Y/n nodded firmly.

“And that’s all you’ve got to say?” Keeley asked with a raised brow, “Nothing else?”

Y/n purposefully filled her mouth with a far-too-large bite of lettuce. She had plenty to say on the matter, Keeley knew damn well, but she was determined not to do so unless there was a confirmed break-up. After all, Jack was still their boss.

“Nope,” she mumbled.

Rebecca and Keeley descended into a fit of snorts.

Later, the three women were were seeing Keeley out to her car. Roy was just coming down the hall when they came off the last step.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Rebecca said.

“Okay,” Roy replied before looking to his ex. An awkward silence came about for three seconds, though it felt like much longer. “Keeley.”

“Roy,” she nodded back to him.

Rebecca, blissfully, pulled them out. “So I need you to fill in for Ted at today’s press conference, if that’s okay.”

Roy didn’t hesitate in his reply, “Fuck no.”

Keeley, Rebecca and Y/n were just as unflinching as they waited for the answer to change.

“I mean,” Roy backtracked, “Why can’t Ted do it?”

His eyes went from woman to woman, waiting for one of them to answer or crack or…something.

Or nothing.

“I mean,” he pasted an unnatural grin to his face, “I’d love to.”

Y/n pointed a finger and nodded.

“Wonderful,” Rebecca replied, looking to Keeley and Y/n, “Shall we?”

The three of them left Roy in the hall, waiting for the inevitable reaction.

“Fuck,” he said rather loudly.

“I heard that,” Rebecca smirked.

“You still have my word,” Y/n remarked to her boss, “Send me up there, I’ll give them all they want to know. Sell everybody out. We’ll be on every front page in the country.”

Rebecca laughed, though Keeley missed it entirely. She was too busy glancing back at Roy.

—————————

Later in the afternoon, with the press conference a few minutes away from starting, Y/n swung by her office to pick up the notes she’d jotted down for Roy.

As she grabbed her notebook, she noticed there was a tea sitting next to her laptop.

She picked it up and examined it. It had come from the café, her name was written on the side in the big loopy handwriting Delilah, the barista, used. Assuming she wasn’t being set up to be poisoned, she took a sip and accepted the anonymous kindness.

Y/n made it down to the press room, meeting Higgins in the back and waiting for Roy to enter.

The door opened, and Beard walked through.

Y/n’s face dropped, “Um…”

“Where’s Ted?” Higgins asked.

“Where’s Roy?” Y/n corrected, “He’s supposed to be filling in.”

Beard took his seat at the desk, “Good afternoon. I know you all were expecting Ted, but he couldn’t make it today. I, however, will be happy to answer any and all questions, so,” he gestured to the desk filled with recorders and phones, “Fire away.”

Y/n took a breath, it wasn’t so bad. Beard, while not always the most sociable, was well-spoken and highly intelligent. He might have even been a better choice than Roy for his mood alone.

She regretted every thinking such a thing within two minutes.

“Look, man,” Beard sat back in the chair, “We can debate all day, Zeppelin versus Eagles, but one thing that is absolutely not up for debate is Walsh versus Page.”

“Oh, come off it,” the man fired back, “You honestly think it’s Walsh over Page?”

Y/n whispered to Higgins, “How did this go so far off the rails this fast?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.

She handed him her tea, “Hold this.”

Y/n quietly and calmly exited the room, breaking into a light jog in the hall and up the stairs. She knocked on Rebecca’s open door but didn’t bother to be invited in.

“Hi,” she greeted quickly, “Um, did something happen to Roy in the two hours since he was last seen?”

Rebecca’s brow lowered, “No, why?”

Y/n thinned her lips to a line, “You might wanna come downstairs.”

Without question, Rebecca followed her down and into the press room. Things had taken another turn in the minute Y/n had disappeared for.

“That is not what I said, Gary,” Beard angrily pointed to the reporter in question.

“I have your quote right here,” Gary chuckled.

“You did say it, Coach,” another on agreed.

“Stay out of this, Lloyd,” Beard snapped.

“Don’t shout at Lloyd,” Sarah, another reporter, said.

Y/n flattened her palm against her forehead.

“You said, and I quote,” Gary looked down at his notes, “‘Joe Walsh is a better guitarist than Jimmy Page.’ That’s what you said!”

Beard leaned back in his chair, exasperated by the fight he’d started. “Fine! I said it,” he spread his arms out in defeat, “But what I meant was that Joe Walsh, underrated. Jimmy Page,” he got stuck on the last word in his rage, “Overrated!”

The room was arguing amongst itself.

“I mean, Joe Walsh is a poet,” Beard went on, “Jimmy Page is a fucking court stenographer on Adderall.”

As the room digested the answer in shock, and amusement, Y/n reached out to Higgins, retaking her tea and taking a large swig as if it were wine.

“Are you out of your mind?” Gary laughed, “Page could beat Walsh with one string.”

“What do you mean, beat him?” Beard replied angrily, “It’s not a competition, man. It’s art, you fucking Neanderthal!”

Y/n, Higgins and Rebecca surged forward at the same time.

“Hello,” Rebecca cheerily announced, trying to draw the attention to herself while Higgins grabbed Beard, who was still arguing with Gary. “Hello! Hello!”

Y/n acted as a shield for Higgins as he walked Beard out of the room, dropping him in the side hall. But not before Beard could get in one last insult.

“‘Stairway to Heaven’” is a glorified fingering exercise, and you all know it!”

Higgins smiled at the press as he shut the door, Y/n blindly reaching behind to help him push against Beard’s weight.

“I can’t think of the last time I was able to be here with all you absolutely…” Rebecca spoke loudly over the noise of Beard still yelling into the door. Y/n and Higgins blocked his face from view. “Just brilliant members of the press down here in the pressroom. So with that in mind, I would love to take some questions. Come on,” Rebecca spread her arms welcomingly, “Absolutely ask me anything.”

“Oh, shit,” Y/n mumbled. This wasn’t any better.

Marcus from The Independent announced himself when Rebecca nodded towards him.

“Hello there, Marcus,” she greeted, “How are you?”

“Very well.”

“Good, good.”

“Miss Welton,” Marcus asked, “In your opinion, who’s the greatest classic rock guitarist of all time?”

Rebecca stuttered a bit, stuck on the question that had her blanking out on any rock she’d ever listened to.

“The, uh…” she struggled, “The…guy from Cream.”

Higgins snorted, Y/n buried her head in her hand as the pressroom quietly and collectively laughed.

“Uh…” Rebecca began.

“I think,” Y/n came to stand beside her boss, grinning abnormally large, “That in the wake of our recent wins, we’re all still a bit hazy from the excitement. I think we’re going to call this for the day, but we’ll be ready and waiting for you after the match this Sunday against Brighton. Thank you so much!”

Y/n placed her hands on Rebecca’s back and marched her towards the door.

“Uh, Ms. Y/l/n,” Marcus spoke up, “Care to comment on who you think the greatest guitarist is?”

“Keith Richards,” Y/n answered, “Purely because he’s still standing.”

Whatever reaction she’d caused, she didn’t hear them. Her and Higgins had gotten Rebecca safely out into the hall.

“Sorry about that,” she shuddered.

“You’re alright,” Y/n patted her shoulder.

“‘The guy from Cream,’” Higgins giggled.

“Yes, all right,” Rebecca twisted to face Higgins, “Don’t start with me, Leslie! I panicked,” she took a seething breath, “I’m going to murder Roy Kent.”

“If you don’t, I will,” Y/n exhaled.

“Look, Roy not doing press is just Roy being Roy,” Higgins stated.

Y/n gestured to the door they’d just come out of, “And look where it got us.”

“Well, I am sick of Roy being Roy,” Rebecca spat, hands on her hips, “So it’s time for Rebecca to be Rebecca.”

Without another word, she marched off in the direction of the training room. The boys would nearly be done with their afternoon workout.

“Oh, yes,” Higgins agreed, “Absolutely- I couldn’t,” he turned with Y/n to watch Rebecca strut away from them, “Yeah. There you go. Yes! Ooh!”

Y/n breathed a laugh, if anyone rubbed off on her from Richmond, she hoped it was Rebecca. There was a fierceness inside her that Y/n had never possessed in her life, but she’d have liked to.

“Stay for the aftermath?” Higgins asked.

“Oh, definitely,” Y/n nodded. She wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to stare down Roy.

Quick enough, Rebecca marched back up the stairs, Roy following thirty seconds later. While Higgins’ best frown was still his worst smile, Y/n glared at the coach unflinchingly. He did his best to ignore them both on the way up to Rebecca’s office.

“Another day,” Y/n mumbled, her and Higgins heading their separate ways for the rest of the afternoon.

As she walked down the hall, some of the boys came out of the training room. She high-fived them before coming up on Jamie, bringing up the rear.

He flicked the cup of tea, still in Y/n’s hand, and smirked. “Cheers.”

Y/n looked back and met his waiting gaze, the two of them sharing a smile. The days at Nelson Road grew more unpredictable the further into the season they got, but some things were as constant as breathing.

——————

The day of the Brighton match started as normal as any other. Y/n made the familiar trek to the owner’s box, taking a seat between Keeley and Higgins, and braced for the ninety minutes of nerves she both hated and loved.

“Oh, it’s Jack,” Keeley announced as she scrolled her phone. The three of them sat to attention as they waited to hear the text, “She’s saying that she’s in Argentina…for the next couple of months.”

“Ouch,” Higgins commented. Y/n scoffed while Rebecca pulled Keeley into her side.

“Well,” Keeley took a breath, “I think our break is actually an ‘up.’ So now that Jack is officially my ex,” she looked between the group, “Please feel free to say any of the things that you didn’t like about her.”

Rebecca sighed, “Well-“

“Ooh,” Higgins chimed in, “Her handshake was way too firm. You know-“ he groaned and grunted as he imitated the action, “I get it. You’re friendly. Good riddance.”

Y/n bit down on her bottom lip, trying to keep the comments from flying out her mouth.

“Something you’d like to say, Y/n?” Keeley asked knowingly.

Shaking her head, she tried to go the diplomatic route. “Just want to watch some football.”

Keeley slowly nodded, staring out at the field with her.

“And she’s a fucking asshole,” Y/n muttered as low as she could to let only Keeley hear it. They smiled to one another.

Right off the bat, the Greyhounds were struggling. Isaac, usually so focused, was off his game. He cost them a goal kick and earned Brighton a corner instead. It wasn’t like him and the fans were letting their displeasure be known.

Even worse, when Colin lost an easy goal, Isaac went after him. The two of them argued until Jamie and Sam, playing peacemaker, held Isaac back from following Colin any further.

Y/n frowned, something had to have happened before the match. The boys were far more in sync than this, and they sure as hell didn’t fight each other.

The first half ended on the heels of Dani just nearly making a goal, only for Brighton to block it. The score was 1-nil as the Greyhounds trudged back to the locker room.

Higgins, Y/n, Rebecca and Keeley went silent as the fifteen minute break began. There wasn’t anything to say.

Y/n’s eyes were glazing over the crowd on the opposite side of the stadium when a commotion started. She followed the noise to the tunnel to see Isaac, leaping into the stands and grabbing one of the fans.

“Oh my gosh,” she mumbled. Keeley, Rebecca and her all rose to their feet.

With the distance, the scene could hardly be seen properly, but it appeared that Isaac was holding the fan by the shirt and yelling in his face. The ref had never pulled the red card out so fast. It was unprecedented and unacceptable.

Higgins rushed out his seat, the women moving to make room for him down the aisle. Y/n’s eyes followed Roy as he helped Isaac down and started shouting something to the security guards.

The scene died down as quickly as it began. The fan was escorted out of the stadium and the Greyhounds disappeared into the tunnel.

“What the hell was that?” Rebecca finally asked.

“I don’t know,” Keeley breathed.

Internally, Y/n began to feel some sort of panic build. She couldn’t decipher the complexities of it, all she knew was she had to move.

“Where are you going?” Rebecca asked as Y/n slid past them.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled Keeley’s same answer, already climbing the stairs.

She hurried through the suite, past all the fans opening social media to post that they’d witnessed the fight themselves. Past all the fans in the concourse exclaiming how McAdoo was about to fucking kill the twat. Y/n couldn’t hear any of it as she made for the personnel-only entrance into the building.

When she made it to the empty hall outside the locker room, she faltered. Her immediate reaction would be to run in, but she knew it was far from appropriate. Her hand instinctively reached toward the door, even with feet of space between her and it. She couldn’t.

Nearly as soon as she’d thought it, Isaac came bursting through the door, unaware of her presence as he stalked to the boot room. He slammed that door shut and Y/n flinch at the sound.

Ten seconds later, Roy came out much more peacefully, but still with purpose.

Y/n stepped forward, her movements and her voice hesitant, “Hey-“

Roy could see the concern etched deeply in her face and touched her arm as he passed. “I got it.”

It wasn’t often that Roy wasn’t scowling, wasn’t speaking like he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. For him to speak softly, to voluntarily comfort someone, he had to have meant it.

Y/n stood frozen as he shut the door to the boot room, all the pieces of her reaction making sense suddenly. After Isaac had attacked the fan, her first thought hadn’t been about PR. It hadn’t been about the clean-up her and Keeley would have to do, the stress of it all. It hadn’t had anything to do with what the internet would think or the fans or anyone.

Her first thought was to wonder if Isaac was okay.

She knew by now she cared about AFC Richmond. She had a special affection for Rebecca and their weekly tea. Keeley had cracked her way past Y/n’s gates simply by being herself. Ted was the nicest slice of home she could have gotten.

This was different. This was caring so deeply for the team that she was standing in the hall, unmoving until she knew they were all alright.

It was no longer about letting them in, Y/n knew, it was about how deeply etched in her heart they were.

She waited, waited, the whole fifteen minutes, hearing only the muffled mumbles of the team’s conversation through the doors. When they cheered and exited the room, their spirits seemingly lifted, none of them even noticed her against the wall.

Y/n moved to stand outside the boot room, catching Colin and Trent as the last ones to exit the locker room. Trent threw her a small salute that she matched, before heading out to his own seat. She still wasn’t leaving until she knew all was well.

Eventually, Roy came out of the boot room with Isaac in tow. The disgraced captain glanced up at her as he passed, Y/n made a point to squeeze his arm. He didn’t flinch at her touch, but didn’t make a point of lingering as he headed to the locker room to wait the game out.

As Y/n inhaled, Roy nodded, “He’s alright.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

The two of them walked back to their separate paths, Roy heading out to the pitch and Y/n heading back to the owner’s box.

The match turned around after that, tremendously so. The Greyhounds had hit the pitch united once more, particularly Colin, who’d assisted in both goals that had led them to victory. Balance seemed to have been restored, and while Isaac would still be the most memorable part of the game, Colin’s efforts wouldn’t be forgotten.

And, as always, Y/n’s work began the moment the ref called it.

There were strict instructions from both Keeley and her to Higgins not to grab any of the players. They’d no doubt be asked about their captain’s actions and none of them needed to deal with that stress. Ted was the only one who could comfortably handle it.

They waited with Rebecca in the back of the room, Higgins and Trent joined them at the last minute.

“He’s on his way,” Higgins said.

“Thank you, Leslie,” Rebecca replied before turning to Keeley and Y/n, “You gave Ted some talking points?”

Keeley frowned, “No. I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Not for a while,” Y/n added.

The side door opened before Rebecca could truly begin to worry. Where Ted should have strolled in, Roy did instead.

“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, punctuated by a gag from Higgins.

Roy took a seat at the desk, staring down the entire room. No one was wearing their surprise well.

“Yeah, alright, you got me today,” he growled, “Any questions?”

Every reporter’s hand went up, all of them shouting to get Roy’s attention.

“Fucking hell,” he mumbled before pointing to one of them, “You. Five-o’-clock shadow head.”

Gary, self-proclaimed Jimmy Page fan, stood up. “Coach Kent, do you or the organization condone what Isaac McAdoo did today?”

“What a stupid fucking question,” Roy was quick to reply, Rebecca, Higgins and Y/n all screwing their eyes shut. “‘Course we don’t. What Isaac did was awful. He was lucky he only got a red card.”

“Okay,” Gary relented, “So why’d he do it?”

Roy chuckled, looking like he was nearly about to say something before stopping himself. Instead of cursing or snarking, he settled back in his chair.

“When I was first coming up through Sunderland, there was an old-timer on the team,” Roy began, “Local guy. He and his wife were about to have their first kid. So during training one day, I made a joke that statistically, I was probably the real dad. And the boys fell about laughing, but he went fucking nuts. He battered me. Properly. I had a black eye, chipped tooth, three broken ribs…I couldn’t play for six games. He got booted off the team. After that,” Roy shook his head, “No club would go near him.”

“Then in the summer, after I could breathe again,” he went on, “I bumped into him in a pub. And I got the chance to say sorry for my stupid fucking joke. And he got to tell me he and his wife had lost the baby a month before all that went down. He hadn’t told anyone. Kept it all inside.”

The room had fallen hush, save for the occasional click of a camera.

“Look, I get that some people think if they buy a ticket,” Roy’s voice regained its strength, “They’ve got the right to yell whatever abusive shit they want at footballers. But they’re not just footballers. They’re also people. And none of us,” he dragged his finger across the room, “Know what is going on in each other’s lives.”

“So for Isaac to do what he did today, even though it was wrong,” Roy pointed to his chest, “I give him love. And as for why he did what he did,” he leaned closer to the microphones, “That’s none of my fucking business.”

That was it. There was nothing left to say. Roy had handled it with more grace and patience than anyone could have expected.

Y/n smiled to herself, “Okay.”

“Next question,” he called to the room, which erupted back into shouts and flashes, “Yeah, new Trent.”

“Coach,” Marcus spoke up, “Let’s talk about Colin Hughes.”

“Yeah, he’s a hell of a player,” Roy answered, “And a great man. I think we’ve underused him.”

“I think you’re right,” Marcus said.

“Glad we agree,” Roy replied, “I prefer you to old Trent.”

The room laughed before Roy called on the next reporter. Rebecca and him shared a look of acknowledgement, this was making up for his ditching of the last presser.

Roy went on answering questions a few minutes longer before abruptly calling it. As everyone was saying their goodbyes for the evening, Y/n caught him in the hall.

“You did good,” she complimented.

Roy grunted a little, still bad at taking praise about anything other than his professional abilities. “Sorry if I…made your job harder the other day.”

She shrugged, “No more so than anyone else. You’re just more of a dick about it.”

Having said it with a smile Roy knew Y/n wasn’t serious…totally. His lips quirked up ever so slightly.

“Night, Roy,” Y/n said, hitting his arm as she walked past him.

“Cheers,” he replied, heading his own way.

—————————

While the day was a victory, Jamie was exhausted. Some of the boys had gone out to celebrate, he was one of the ones who decided heading home was more appealing.

A ring of the doorbell dragged him off his couch and into the entryway. He opened the door, his chest both filling and draining at the sight.

Y/n was leant against the frame, a soft smile on her lips. She held up a paper takeaway bag.

“I won’t tell Roy if you don’t,” she promised.

Jamie chuckled under his breath and moved to let her in.

It wasn’t just the match that’d worn Jamie out. Colin’s confession in the locker room was…heavy. Weighing most on Colin, of course, but when the celebratory noise had died down and Jamie was left to his own thoughts, he found they were louder than normal.

Y/n showing up only acted as an amplifier.

Here was Colin, hiding away one of the biggest parts of himself. Forced to keep the person he loved in the shadows for fear of the public’s reaction. He couldn’t hold them, couldn’t be seen with them, couldn’t claim them. The person who meant everything to him.

And here was Jamie, with the woman he cared about most standing before him, feeling the weight of his privilege.

“Samir was working tonight,” Y/n announced as she slipped off her shoes, “He kept asking me if I was buying for us both. I think he slipped in some extra-“

She was cut off by Jamie, wrapping his arms around her in a full embrace.

Jamie wasn’t good with words. He was barely good with feelings. And expressing them was a whole other matter. What he did know to be true was that Y/n was the singular most important person in his life. Whether he’d realized it before or not, he wasn’t sure. But it was suddenly crushing him, he was overwhelmed by his affection for her. She was the best part of his worst times, the highlight of his days. The literal sunshine lighting up the darkest parts of him, the parts everyone else looked at and ran from. But not her, never her.

Y/n stumbled a bit, Jamie steadying her as he tugged her to his body. It wasn’t like they never hugged, but this felt different. The whole day had been so emotionally charged, she wasn’t surprised that he was feeling some of it. She wasn’t sure what had happened in the locker room between halves or after the game, but whatever it was had done something to him, and she apparently was the solution.

The truth was, Jamie was the first person Y/n hadn’t tired of being there for. She wanted to save him at every possible opportunity. To be there for him in whatever way he needed her. Lord knows he had done it enough for her. He’d looked at her ugliest parts and matched them, the two of them somehow growing together through their horrible histories. Some relationships were easily replaced, but there could never be another Jamie.

Y/n slid her arms around Jamie’s back, stealing some of the comfort for herself.

Jamie rested his chin on her shoulder, shutting his eyes and letting the moment wash over him. The world could stop, just for a moment, and it would be there when they broke apart. But for now, Y/n was all he wanted to feel.

They stayed in the hall, clinging to one another, having only unwrapped the first layer of what all they felt meant.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso x reader #rebecca welton x reader #keeley jones x reader #heartfirst

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emeritusemeritus · 3 months

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No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 1 2 3

Part 3

Title: No Good Deeds. Part 3.

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. Angst, sadness, grief. Tags will be updated with each chapter.

This one got a little sad I’m sorry, I’m in my Freddie feels right now 🥀

Arriving at the shop, you noticed that Ron was still not here yet as the shop was in complete blackout except for the window lights which remained on at all times. You pulled out your wand and recited the unlocking spell that Fred had created and personalised, as well as the counter spell for the anti-alohamora charm he'd placed upon the building. You locked the door behind you with a flick of your wand and illuminated the store, making your way straight up to the office. The store looked good and tidy, though you did notice during your ascent up the stairs that there were a few stock items that needed replenishing, something you could do once you'd set up everything in the back.

Around half an hour later, Ron burst through the office door, calling for George and immediately froze upon seeing you sat there at his brother's desk.

"Oh, thought it was George this morning," he says, running his hand over the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed at barging in.

"He had some stuff to sort this morning, said I'd cover for him," you explained with a little shrug, grabbing the floats from the safe and the morning banking book.

"Oh right, yeah okay," Ron says, following behind you as you walk down the stairs. "Think he's got a secret girlfriend?"

Ron's words make you momentarily freeze, having not expected him to say that.

"Don't know Ronald," you said with another shrug and a smile, "but if Percy can get a girlfriend then George definitely can." Ron laughs with a nod and helped you set up the shop as you work together, laughing and joking like usual. He tries to pry into George's love life a little more, assuming that you know more than he does but you successfully manage to deflect his questions, hopefully without any suspicion.

You winced as the stones of your engagement ring caught the palm of your hand for the third time since you'd been restocking the shelves and looked down to see a little imprint of the outline cut into your hand. You sighed, checking around you to see where Ron was before walking up towards the office and turning left instead, towards the flat. Approaching the wooden door, you took a deep breath in and tried to gather your courage, suddenly feeling emotional and overwhelmed at returning to the flat you'd once known so well, dreading stepping through the door.

You huffed out a breathe and opened the handle, immediately greeted by the dark corridor that wrapped around the flat. You walked past the closet and then past what used to be Fred's bedroom, pausing only briefly to touch the doorframe as you felt your lip wobble, tears threatening your eyes. You shook them away and carried on walking towards George's room, looking for something specific that you knew he had, hoping he wouldn't mind you borrowing it.

You felt uncomfortable intruding like this, but it was the only solution you could think of. You stepped through the door and found the room to be much neater than you imagined, with only a few pieces of clothing and ties strewn on the floor in the otherwise rather tidy bedroom. You walked over to his dresser, seeing his leather watch box on top and raised the lid. Immediately you were met with a photo of you, George and Fred in your fifth year, building a snowman in the courtyard at Hogwarts. You all looked so young and happy, dressed in layer upon layer of warm clothes topped with coats and hats as you beamed at the camera, Fred's arm wrapped around you and George holding onto your shoulder, each one of you proud of the enchanted snowman you'd created. A tear leaked out of your eye and you bit your lip to try and prevent anymore from falling as you quickly wiped it away, unable to take your eyes of Fred's infectious smile. You placed the photo down onto the lid and reached to grab a silver chain that was beside the watch that his parents had given him for his 17th birthday, the same watch that sat beside an identical one in the box. You'd bought both of them a chain for their 17th birthday with a little engraved pendant attached that you had customised. The engraving was a 'w' sign with a little star at the top, the very same sign that would become the logo for the shop. Fred was buried in his chain, having never taken it off, but you noticed that George hadn't worn his much in the past few years, which you understood. You took out the chain and slipped the engagement ring through it before securing it around your neck and tucking it underneath your shirt. The last thing you wanted was to lose the ring and this was the only way you could keep it safe whilst you were at work, knowing you'd be panicking if it was in your pocket all day and you vowed to keep it at home tomorrow. You closed the lid of the watch box, casting one last glance at the photo before walking out of the flat and back down to the shop. Ron was none the wiser and you carried on restocking the love potions, no longer hurting from the ring, as Ron grabbed the skiving snackboxes in preparation for you opening the store.

You briefly thought of George as you wiped down the counter, wondering if the furniture had been delivered yet and what he was doing at home before a knock at the front door dragged you out of your musings. Verity had arrived for her shift and you let her in with a wave of your wand, greeting her before disappearing into the office for one last check over the inventory books before the shop opened.

"Morning stranger," you heard a voice say a little later as you deposited some cash into the safe. You turned around and saw George leaning on the door frame, arms crossed with a smirk on his lips, looking well rested and quite frankly, very handsome in his suit and burgundy shirt.

"Morning Georgie," you smiled, locking the safe and turning to face him completely.

"You ran off this morning," he teases, stepping forward to sit next to you on the desk, his long legs leaning beside you.

"I left a note," you countered in a mock-argument, giving him a wicked smile. He chuckles and nods, his eyes flicking over you.

"Did everything come okay? Didn't expect you in yet."

"All set up," he says with a nod before frowning gently, his mouth opening and closing twice before he says the next part, "look about last night, I'm sorry if-"

"Georgie," you said, moving to stand and place your hand on his chest to stop him. "I offered."

"Yeah not for me to sleep with-

"It's fine, actually it was nice to sleep beside someone again," you said honestly, the image of Fred's smiling face from the photograph filling your mind as you thought of the only person you'd ever shared a bed with. "Except for the snoring, that I could do without," you joked. He immediately grabbed you and pulled you into him as you let out a little squeal at the sensation of his beginning to tickle you.

"Snoring!?" He repeats with a shout, trying to look outraged but the grin on his face told you that he was far from angry. "How rude Mrs Weasley," he jokes, stopping the tickling but still keeping his hands on your waist. His eyes flick down to your left hand and his brows knit together momentarily as you follow his train of thought.

"Couldn't let Ron see it yet," you said as you both looked at your left ring finger, "I have to confess something though."

"Don't say you've lost it already," George says with a small, goading smirk which transforms into a laugh as you hit him on the chest for the little dig.

"No I haven't lost it," you say with a huff before reaching down into your shirt and pulling out the chain that sits around your neck, the ring hanging off of it like a pendant, knowing he'd recognise it instantly, "had to borrow this from you, is that okay? Please don't be mad, I tried to put the ring on my other hand but it kept digging in and it cut me and."

George immediately stops your babbling by pressing his lips to yours, a move that shocks you to your core as you stand there frozen, feeling his soft lips on yours. The kiss lasts no more than a few seconds but you can't help but stay perfectly still, more than surprised by his actions, your eyes slowly fluttering open after instinctively closing as he leaned in. George pulls away and looks at you with equal amounts of surprise, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done too. His shocked expression drops from his face after a few moments as he draws in a breath before explaining, never taking his eyes off his chain around your neck.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't think of any other way to stop you rambling," he says with a small tilt of teasing in his voice before his gaze flicks up to look directly into your eyes, a soft look on his features. "I don't mind, looks good on you."

He strokes your arm as he pulls away and without any other words, he walks through the office door and down the stairs, leaving you utterly bamboozled as you stare at the spot where George had just been. George just kissed you. George Weasley had just kissed you.

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur, with paperwork and inventory checks needing your attention and taking up most of your time. You'd run into George a few times over the course of the day and each and every time you had felt his eyes on you before you even knew he was there. The look in his eyes was unfamiliar to you, like he was deep in thought or concentration but it only seemed to be when he caught sight of you which was strange. At one point he had winked at you as you walked through the store after grabbing some lunch for the both of you and it made you feel giddy and restless as there had seemed to be a shift in your dynamic since the kiss.

After your last inventory check was done and recorded in the files, you stepped out onto the shopfloor at 10 minutes before close to ask George about what he wanted for dinner tonight but you stopped short when you saw him laughing with an unfamiliar woman next to the till. They were stood pretty close together and she was laughing at something George was saying as he chuckled along, looking fairly animated in his reply. Your eyes rolled when you saw her laugh and reach out to touch his arm, a move you'd seen over and over again in all those tragic muggle romantic comedies that Hermione had made you endure over the years. You couldn't deny that your stomach sank at seeing the scene before you, George and the pretty woman flirting openly in the near empty shop, especially after he kissed you earlier in the day. You considered just backing away and pretending that you'd not seen what you had but that plan was immediately rendered impossible when you heard your name called out by a very familiar voice. George.

He waved his hand at you, gesturing for you to join them and you willed your feet to move across the floor, trying to force a smile onto your face though inside you were a maelstrom of hurt and rage.

"This is her, y/n," George says, introducing you as you approach them, placing his hand onto your waist as you stand next to him. "She came up with these, bloody brilliant actually," George says, holding out the familiar packaging of the weather in a bottle product you'd created together in your sixth year. "Excellent diversion tactic or just a harmless prank if preferred, a rain cloud will actually follow the receiver around and it creates no mess, except for the unsuspecting victim, they'll be wet through."

Usually, George's praise would have made you blush, especially as his hand held your waist so openly, but in the current circumstance you just felt enraged. The woman he was chatting with had pulled away from him and clearly had a face like thunder at your interruption, though she tried to mask it around George.

"It seems your employees are very talented," she says with a tight lipped smile that certainly didn't reach her eyes. You didn't miss the inflection on the word 'employees' and it pained you not to roll your eyes at her purposeful goading. You shot her a sarcastic smile in return before looking around for Ron but you couldn't see him.

"Employee?" George says questioningly before looking down at you, pulling you in slightly, "my fiancée." You froze, feeling suddenly on the spot at you tried to search for any sign of Ron or Verity in hearing distance but there was no one else around.

The woman seemed to baulk at the new information and all pretence of a smile dropped from her face. She suddenly made up some excuse about having to collect something from Flourish and Botts and quickly hustled out of the store, leaving you and George alone.

You snorted as you watched her exit, "should rename the shop 'Weasleys' Wizard Whizzes, with how fast she just ran out."

George barked out a laugh before checking his watch and flourishing his wand, effectively closing and locking the door. He nudges you with his hip as he squeezes past to get to the tills, opening up the first one that Verity had manned for most of her shift.

"So fiancé Eh?" You said quietly, moving around to the second till to begin cashing it up just as George had with the first one. George gives you a little look as he counts the sickles before jotting down the total on the little piece of parchment beside the till.

"Only one more day before we tell mum, might as well start the rumours," George says with a knowing smirk. The mention of telling Molly made your stomach lurch and it was all you could think of as you counted each galleon, knut and sickle in the till.

"You ready my beloved?" George asks jokingly, reaching for your hand as he puts the last of the cash in the safe.

"What about the accounts?" You ask, looking through the inventory receipts laid out on your desk.

"They can wait till morning, I'm starving, let's go home," George says, taking your hand and begins leading you down the stairs. His use of 'home' gave you a warm, fluttery feeling that made a goofy smile want to cross across your lips, knowing that he meant both of you.

You walked out of the shop and George turned out the lights and locked up with his wand before placing it into his suit jacket pocket, never once letting go of your hand as you walked around to the back of the store and apparated back to your flat.

As soon as you made it back, you walked into your bedroom and threw off your bra just as you did everyday, followed by your socks and jeans, changing into your loungewear straight away. You threw on a big cardigan and walked back out to see George in the kitchen, looking through the fridge.

"Made you a cup of tea Angel," he says with an absent nod of his head as he peruses the ingredients.

"Thank you!" You gush, elated at the prospect of having a warm cup of tea, "I knew there was a reason I'm marrying you," you joked.

George huffed mockingly, closing the fridge as he turns to face you. He'd taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves and you couldn't deny how good he looked right at that moment.

"Not my movie star good looks? Towering height? Flaming red hair?" He jokes, stepping closer to you.

"Hmmm," you pretend to think, dramatically tapping your chin, "no it's definitely the tea."

"Remind me why I'm marrying you again?" He teases, reaching behind you to grab his drink.

"I'd say my impeccable sense of humour and sharp whit but we both know it's for a savvy business move," you replied with a sarcastic grin that falls from your face as you watch George's face sink. He recovers quickly but you definitely saw the stricken expression on his face and you immediately regret your words, though you were of course only stating facts.

You start tea as George nips in the shower and as the rice begins to boil and the chicken comes out of the oven, the kitchen heats up exponentially and you have to take off your cardigan due to the heat, casting it to the wind to land somewhere on the sofa behind you. Just as you reached for the jar of sauce from the cupboard, you saw the bottles of daisyroot draught you'd bought for George a few days ago and pulled it out for him before adding the sauce to the chicken.

"Georgie, I got you some daisyroot, if you want it," you said, turning to face him as you stir the bubbling pan. He's wearing his pyjama bottoms and a black T-shirt as he rubs his hair with the towel, walking barefoot into the kitchen. He opens his mouth to reply but he seems to briefly pause, focusing intently on something around you before snapping out of it a few moments later, looking bashful.

"Great, yeah great, thank you," he stammered, stuttering through his words as he avoided eye contact with you and walked past you to grab a glass from the top shelf. You frowned at his peculiar behaviour but decided not to question in, realising that it might be an adjustment thing from him moving in with you, after all the only person he'd ever lived with as an adult was Fred. Perhaps you shouldn't have bought him the daisyroot, thinking that somehow you might have overstepped.

"Tea's nearly ready," you say, perhaps a little delicately in hopes that you wouldn't upset him but his reaction is normal so you try to put it out of your mind, putting it down to a bad turn.

"This is amazing Angel," George says, taking huge forkfuls of the chicken curry and rice you'd haphazardly thrown together. You smile appreciatively at him and scoop up some of your own food, admittedly taking much smaller bites than George. "So, you ready to tell Mum tomorrow?"

Your eyes shoot up to his with a glare, seeing him smirking at you and you roll your eyes, feeling a lump in your throat and nerves at the pit of your stomach.

"Yeah can't wait," you mutter sarcastically, already anticipating what could happen in your mind, picturing her utter elation, or her outrage.

"You know she'll be happy right?" George says, scooping up another forkful of rice.

"You think we can actually convince them?" You ask, changing the direction of the conversation slightly, not realising how much that question had been playing on your mind. George is quiet for a minute as he considers his answer, taking a sip of the daisyroot before picking up his fork again.

"Don't see why not," he says with a little shrug before turning to look at you with a little smile, "not exactly unheard of is it? Falling for your best friend."

George's words make your stomach flip and roil in numerous ways, the smile on his face only furthering those complicated feelings within you.

"Guess not," you reply, trying to act neutral as you absently eat your food, though you couldn't deny that your appetite had waned dramatically from the topic of conversation. "So, do I wear the ring tomorrow or do I put it on after work?"

"Whatever you want Angel," George says, reaching for his glass again, "Ron's off tomorrow and I doubt Verity would notice anything even directly under her nose, it's just you and me." When you don't reply, silently considering your options, George leans over and grabs your hand on the table, stroking where your engagement ring should be. "Keep in on my chain tomorrow, around your neck and then put it on before we get back to mum's," he suggests, a softness to his voice that made it seem like a hopeful request. You nod and smile at him, still feeling a little conflicted as you tuck into the rest of your meal.

When you climb into bed later that night, your thoughts are consumed by your situation, of your impending engagement and your future after that. Truthfully, you hadn't taken much time to process everything since that first initial day, getting caught up in George moving in and all the things that came along with that. You were already anxious at returning to the Burrow tomorrow, having only been back a handful of times since the war, once for Harry and Ginny's engagement party and a few other dinners that never quite felt the same as before, like something obvious was missing, as it always was these days. Your thoughts were plagued with what ifs and nervous thoughts of what lies after but mostly all you could think of was Fred.

You had to remind yourself that you were doing this for George and for Fred's memory, to keep the business exactly as it had been created, to honour Fred. They were your oldest friends, your best friends and you'd give anything for them to succeed and to be happy and if that meant sacrificing your own life and happiness temporarily, then you'd do it in a heartbeat, regardless of the emotional strain.

You felt shame at lying to the people that had become your second family, that had housed you and welcomed you into their home like one of their own. You felt sad that you were holding back George from finding someone and even more conflicted that the idea of George finding someone else caused you to hurt in ways you couldn't explain. And most of all, you felt immeasurable guilt at your arrangement with George, namely because it felt like you were disrespecting Fred. Moving on, even though you were never officially together, seemed to imply that you had chosen George over him, that you could be so selfish and heartless that you'd marry his twin brother after his death, casting all of your memories away and rendering them insignificant. In your heart, you knew Fred wouldn't see it that way and he'd be proud of you for doing what you were doing for his and George's sake, though your mind wouldn't listen to a word of that, instead choosing to attack you.

As soon as the idea crossed your mind, you pulled back your covers and hauled yourself out of bed to crouch on the floor, reaching for a large shoebox that was stored under your bed, filled with your most treasured items. The top of the box had scribbles all over it in both in pencil and quill ink, with writings and drawings of Weasley products all over in a mixture of yours and the twins' handwriting. You sat and chuckled at the difference between everyone's writing; yours was the neatest and most consistent with cursive tails and joined letters. George's writing was small and a little 'curly', though it was quite neat for a boy's writing. Fred's writing however, fluctuated between indecipherable scribblings and various levels of darkness as if he's taken too much ink on the quill. You ran your fingers over the markings, smiling to yourself, before opening the lid to the shoebox. You didn't do this often, only when you needed to feel him, to be surrounded by memories, like right now.

You pulled out a stack of photos front the top, some magical and some not, seeing you, George and Fred at various ages and places during your Hogwarts years. You looked through them with fondness before coming across a photo of you and Fred at the Yule Ball in your sixth year, both of you dressed in your fanciest clothes. Fred's rust coloured waistcoat matches his vibrant, long hair perfectly and you looked at the photo carefully, thinking of how handsome he looked. Memories of dancing and laughing through the night entered your mind, both with Fred and George after George had stolen you away for a dance when Fred had stepped out to get drinks. Fred had walked straight up to the pair of you pretending to be angry and had tried to steal you back, both of them never missing a step of the waltz choreography as you were passed back and forth between the brothers, their matching red hair just a blur as you spun around.

You couldn't stop the tears that filled your eyes and steamed down your cheeks as you looked at the photo of Fred, trying to remember every little detail about him, the scar on his eyebrow and the light freckles on his cheeks, his smell and his laughter. You put down the photos and picked up the button that was underneath the stack, one of the buttons from your dress that night that Fred had unceremoniously ripped off of you, this singular button popping off and rolling underneath his bed, only for you to find it two months later. You placed the button down onto the photos and pulled out a stack of letters that you'd saved, some from Fred and some from George, not feeling strong enough to be able to read them at the moment.

Just as you pulled out a little stuffed toy of a Niffler that Fred had bought you in your third year and cuddled it into your chest, there was a gentle knock at the door. You called out for George to come in, trying to stash the things away before he could see them and get upset as well as quickly wiping away your tears before looking up to him.

Whatever he wanted from you disappeared the second he saw your tear strained face, crouched over a box he recognised immediately.

"Angel," he says quietly, which only makes more tears fall. He moves like lightning over to you and immediately wraps his arms around you, sitting beside you and pulling you into his embrace so that you were near enough sat in his lap. He holds you, rocking gently as you cry, no longer seeing any reason to hold back your emotions.

"Your T-shirt's all wet," you say in a weak, apologetic voice with a sniffle a few minutes later, pulling away from him slightly. "I'm so sorry, it's not fair of me to do this with you," you say, noticing that his own tears are working their way down his face.

"Not fair? What do you mean?" He says gently, allowing you to pull away but not completely, keeping a comforting hand on you.

"He was your brother, your twin, I-"

"Enough of that," he says with a shake of his head, reaching down to wipe away a tear under your eye, "he meant everything to both of us."

His words make you want to cry all over again but you don't, trying to stay calm as you rest your forehead on his shoulder. His hand strokes your back as you try and calm your breathing, feeling a little embarrassed by your outburst after you'd got it all out of your system.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't considered how hard this must be for you, you and Fred were together for-."

"It doesn't matter," you say, cutting off George, not wanting to explain that you were never really together, "it's not that, not really, I just really needed him."

George gives you a single nod that holds all the weight of understanding, clearly knowing exactly how you felt.

"I remember this," George chuckles, pulling something out of the box delicately. It was a piece of parchment with the ingredients for the ageing potion you'd found in an old potions book that the twins had used to try and enter their names into the triwizard tournament. You'd warned them that it wouldn't work against Dumbledore's age line but they hadn't listened. Attached to the sheet of parchment with an old paper clip was a photo you'd taken of the twins in the infirmary, both of them sporting wild white hair and beards, including bushy eyebrows, their arms around each other with cheesy smiles.

You watched as George reached down to touch an old, faded T-shirt of Fred's that was tucked down into the bottom of the box, an old quidditch T-shirt that had outgrown him by his third year, golden thread stitching up a hole in the collar and another smaller one on the seam of the sleeve. You wore it to bed nearly every night for years, the softness and the smell always so comforting to you.

George's fingers ran across the Gryffindor logo for a moment before catching sight of a keyring he'd bought you from the Quidditch World Cup, the green shamrock dangling from the binder ring, the Ireland logo on the back a little scratched up now but the green, white and orange colours were still as vibrant as ever.

"I bought you this," he said with a smile, placing it into his hand as he inspected it. You nodded eagerly, remembering it clearly. You'd painted the boys faces before leaving the tent with the face paint you'd taken with you and when they'd been to look at the merchandise with the limited money they had, they'd both returned with matching green and white scarves, Fred decked out in an obscenely large hat and George had nervously held out his hand to you, passing you the keyring as he moved you to stand between the twins.

"Knew you would want a momento from the trip but I didn't think you'd appreciate one of those hats like Fred and Ginny had," he says, a fondness in his eyes as he looks at the metal keyring.

"I used it everyday for five years," you said, giving him a little smile. "I caught it on the door one day and I thought I broke it, had to reattach the shamrock and then I switched it out, it means too much to me to get broken or lost."

George looks up at you with emotion filled eyes, a look shared between you both that held so much depth that it stole your breath for a few moments.

"Feels like another lifetime," George says after a few minutes of silence. You made a noise of agreement, flicking your eyes down to look at the box filled with distant memories that were now bittersweet and a little twisted.

"You're wrong, you know."

George looks up at you with a puzzled frown, confused by your words. You breathe out a puff of laughter and smile at him, reaching for the hand that wasn't holding the keyring.

"Fred isn't the only one who means everything to me."

Your words seem to affect George in a way that you hadn't anticipated as a tear comes to his eye, his hand tightening around yours before he pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. You hug him back without question, feeling his soft (and now dry) T-shirt against your skin, his arms around you and the comforting smell of his hair and skin taking over your senses.

He pulls away ever so slightly and for a moment you think he's going to kiss you again, his face so close to yours but he doesn't, slowly releasing you from his hold until you climbed off of him, a little disappointed.

"Right, enough mushy shit, we need a plan, for telling your family," you say, standing up and pulling your pyjamas back into place.

"That was what I came to tell you," George says, moving to stand as well as you bent down to slide the box back under your bed. You turned around and looked at him expectantly, wanting him to elaborate. "Mum sent an owl, said something about a gnome infestation, apparently they're vicious this time of year, dad's been bitten twice just walking to the car."

"Oh."

"I was thinking we could meet them at the leaky cauldron or get a meal out? We'll need to tell them soon," he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Invite them over! I can cook, might need to leave work early to prep everything though," you reply, trying to save the plans you'd made.

"Really? You don't have to but,"

"They need to believe we're really together, what better way then to show them that we're living together," you say before reaching a bump in the road, "your stuff will probably need to move in here though, can't have it look like we're sleeping separately, we're not exactly priests."

George nods, following along with your train of thought. "I could bring more of my stuff over? Litter it about, just for a couple of days?"

You shrug in reply, "I don't mind."

"I'll write to mum now and offer them to come here, take the day off tomorrow, then you won't be rushing around, like I know you will," he says with a knowing smirk that you roll your eyes at.

"But you'll be on your own."

"I'll send Ron an owl."

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