#shh katie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greynatomy · 6 months

Text

bookworm

leah williamson x reader

request: either Leah, Lucy or Sam.... married to a writer, someone who's name is well known but face isn't . (could be a pen name) ... the relationship isn't know.... reader comes to a game, the team sees reader and thinks Player should shoot their shot....

the book mentioned is by ciara smyth and i recommend reading it

———

For as long as anyone has known her, Leah Williamson was a known bookworm. Her parents have bought countless books once she’d learned how to read. If she wasn’t playing football, she was reading a book.

Away matches? Reading on the coach or plane, Leah will always be found with a book on her person. Everyone teased her about it, but she always gave recommendations on her favorite reads.

Her close friend, Lia Wälti, did tease her at first, like the rest of their Arsenal teammates, but one time during training, Leah left her book on the lounge chair by the pool when Jonas called her over for a chat. Lia picked up the book to inspect it.

“The Falling in Love Montage by Billie Keynes.” She mumbled, reading the title and author.

By the time Leah comes back to her chair, she sees someone else occupying it, her book in their hands.

“Would it be possible to get my book back?” Leah asks, casting a shadow over Lia.

“Shh. I’m a bit preoccupied.” Lia lifts a finger up to Leah, not taking her eyes off the page she is on.

“Uh, that’s my property.”

“And I’m currently using it, so wait your turn.”

Over the next couple of days, Lia is seen with the same book that Leah had. Some of her teammates ask about it and eventually a a good number of them started reading the book.

Another couple of days later, the team is winding down by the pool at the training ground, all reading the same book.

“This is a really good book Lia. Thanks for the recommendation.” Steph complimented, other gunners agreeing.

“Uh, excuse you all. I have been reading that first. Lia stole the book from me. Had to buy a new one.” Leah complains, eyebrows furrowed.

“Shush. It’s not a competition.”

Leah makes a face of offense.

“Actually, since you’re here, does Billie Keynes have any other books? Preferably with more lesbians.” Beth asks.

“Oh, I’ve got a whole list. I’ll send it in the group chat.”

Two weeks later, they were back on the pitch, ready for a new season. Leah sat behind the bench, still healing from her injury.

After the match, Lia walks over to where Beth and Leah stood.

“Hey! Good game, played well!” Beth hugs the Swiss.

“Thank you, but did you see the girl that was reading a book the whole game?”

“Leah wasn’t reading?” Beth looks at Leah, confused.

“No, not Leah. She’s, uh, she’s right there, just walking off.”

“Huh. Weird.”

Over the next few games, including the ones away, more and more of the team took notice of the girl who reads during the match. Always in the same section, same row, reading a book. Even some fans recognize her, being posted on social media by the team’s administration.

During a team bonding, the team decided to play a bit of truth or dare. One having to eat a spoonful of Vegemite, jump in the pool, tell their biggest fear.

The bottle then landed on Leah, being spun by Katie, who had a mischievous look on her face.

“Oh, no.” Leah was sweating, she didn’t like the look on the Irish’s face.

“Now, we know how much you love to read. You’ve turned some of us, not me, but some of us into avid readers, but there’s one that could rival you as a bookworm.”

“Get on with it, will you!” Leah was impatient.

“I dare you… to go up to the girl that’s always reading during our games and ask her out. On a date.”

So now here she was, walking over to the section after the game against City. She walks in small strides, trying to take longer than she needed to, looking back to see her team huddled together watching her.

“Hey.” She says, when she reaches the girl, who was, no surprise, reading a book.

“Leah.” You replied, not taking your eyes off the book.

“Listen, I was dared to go up to you and talk to you.”

“So, you’ve said last night.”

“Let me finish woman.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.” You give an amused smile at the pout on her face.

“Would you like to go on a date? We’ve not gone on one yet this week.”

“Yes, only if I pick where to eat.”

“But, babyyyy.” She whines. “You know I’m picky.”

“That’s why I want to pick. You can’t deprive your tastebuds from flavor.”

“But—”

“Ah ah.” You interrupted. “Pick me up when you’re done.” You lightly pat her cheek and walk towards the exit.

“So?” Katie questioned, wanting to know what happened.

“She rejected me.” Leah replied with a sullen pout.

“Oof. That sucks mate. Thought she’d be the one for you.”

A month passed since the date was executed. Everyone seemed to forget about it, still seeing you in the stands, but no one paying you any mind.

It was a team bonding night. Everyone agreed to have it at Leah’s place tonight. The thing is, everyone knew except for Leah. On purpose? Only Katie knows.

A loud and heavy knock scares Leah from where she lay on the couch. She cautiously walks to the door, looking through the peephole, eyes widening at the sight of her whole team.

“What are you all doing here?” Leah opens the door just a bit.

“It’s team bonding night. Be a dear and let us in.”

Katie hadn’t waited for an answer and let herself in, the rest following after.

“So, what do you have planned?”

“Didn’t think that far ahead.”

“Actually.” Beth butts in. “Did you guys hear that Billie Keynes is releasing another book?”

“Wait. Really?”

“Yeah, in like a week.”

Lia was looking around her friend’s house, snooping more like it.

“What’s it called?”

“I Think—” Lia’s answer gets cut off as she pick up a book from Leah’s shelf. “Leah?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you have Billie Keynes’ new book before it’s been released?”

Leah’s head whips towards Leah so fast that her head could’ve popped off its socket.

“Uh-well-I-um—”

The sound of the front door opening and shutting cut off her stuttering, leaving everyone else to stay silent, not knowing who else it could be. You walk into the living room, freezing at the sight of Leah’s whole team.

“Hey, you’re the girl who reads during our games.” Beth breaks the silence.

“Uh, hi.”

“Wait.” Katie turns to Leah. “I though you said she rejected you.”

“Well, you see—”

“Oh my god! Where’d you find that? I’ve been looking for it everywhere.” You grab the book out of Lia’s hand, flipping through the pages. “My agent almost killed me cause I thought I lost it.”

“Huh?” The team were now confused.

“It won’t be released until another week. It would’ve been horrible to lose it.”

“How do you have this then if it hasn’t been released yet?” Beth questioned, confused.

“I mean when you write it, you get special privileges.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. What do you mean by that?”

“It means how I said it.”

“So you’re Billie Keynes?”

“It’s a pen name. My real name’s Y/N Y/LN.”

“That’s so cool.” Alessia speaks up for the first time.

“You’re like our favorite author.”

“Aw. That’s so sweet.”

“How’d you come up with Billie Keynes anyway.”

“Well, people named William are sometimes called Billie and my wife is from Milton Keynes.”

“Leah! You made me dare you to ask your wife on a date?”

“Yeah. Thank you for that. I’ve got some bonus wifey points for it.” Leah had a smirk on her face, making the team groan and you slap her lightly on the arm.

“Since we’re teammates of your wife, could we get some special privileges?” Beth asks, hoping you know what she means.

“I’ll even sign the book for you.”

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

833 notes · View notes

alotofpockets · 2 months

Text

Lost & found | Katie McCabe x Reader

Summary: Where Jake loses his favourite stuffed animal, and Katie helps you through a panic attack.

A/n: Part of the Mini Mate Universe

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.6k

-----

Over the past few months you had gone over to Beth and Viv’s place for dinner at least once a week. Jake loved his new aunties, and you enjoyed spending time with the couple and the many guests they seemed to have over at all times. Beth and Viv in turn were also enjoying having you and Jake around, you fitted right in with all Katie’s teammates, and well they just all loved Jake.

Today you would have brunch at their house, along with a few other girls from the team. Katie texted you she needed to finish up some things and head your way in 30 minutes, just enough time for Jake to finish his Bluey episode, you thought while you finished packing up his bag.

When Katie arrived, she greeted you with a kiss, “Hi baby, are you ready to go?” Jake’s show was still playing in the background, but it was long forgotten by the boy when he heard Katie’s voice. The sound of his tiny footsteps running your way made the both of you smile and look into the hallway. “Kawie!” You didn’t think you would ever grow tired of his excitement for your girlfriend, or the way he pronounced her name. “Hi mini mate, I’ve missed you!” She picks him up and twirls him around. “Let me just turn everything off, and I will meet you at the car?”

Each time you were heading somewhere with Katie, she insisted on driving to your house, and head to wherever you were going together. You had told her many times that you could just meet her at Beth and Viv’s, but Katie kept insisting to go together. Usually you took your car since Jake’s seat was in there, but now you walk outside and see Katie putting Jake into her car. “Wait, why are you putting him in your car? He needs his car seat.” Katie stepped to the side to show you the brand new car seat installed in the back of her car, and you couldn’t believe your eyes. Katie ruffled your son’s hair before closing the door softly. “What do you think?” You were still a bit shocked. “I think it looks great, but you really didn’t have to do that.” Katie takes your hand and leads you to her car. “I know I didn’t have to, but I’m in this for the long run, and I want to be able to go somewhere with the three of us and not make you drive every time.” You place a soft kiss on her lips, “You are the best, I love you.”

When you arrived it didn’t take long for Jake to run off to Laura who was playing with Myle. You loved knowing that any one of Katie’s teammates would look out for your boy when you were in a group setting, and that even though as a mom you would still keep checking in, you could also let it go a bit, knowing that he was cared for.

You spend about an hour talking with the group of girls before Beth said that she was going to take the dogs for a walk. Since the weather was so nice, everyone decided to tag along. You headed to the little beach nearby, where the dogs could run around freely. Beth and Viv walked up front, with two dogs running ahead of them, you and Katie followed with Jake on Katie’s neck, and the group of you was followed by a giggling Laura and Vic pushing each other around. It was interesting to see the different dynamics between the girls surrounding you, but you loved all of their company.

When you got back to Beth and Viv’s you all had lunch together, before you made the short drive back to your house. Katie knew you were in need of some one on one time with her, so she had asked Linda if she would watch Jake during his nap and the rest of the afternoon. It wasn’t until you had tucked Jake into his bed with Katie and Linda talking downstairs, that you realised that Jake had lost his stuffed bunny. You found out because Jake started loudly crying. “Mommy, me want Benny!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. “Shh, it’s okay kiddo, Mommy is going to go look for Benny.” You held the boy in your arms as the tears rolled over his cheeks. The women downstairs had heard Jake’s screams, and Katie came running with a different stuffed animal that she found amongst Jake’s toys. “Hi buddy.” She says sitting down next to you and while letting her hands go through your son’s hair. “I have a Mister Bear here, who really needs some cuddles. Do you think you can give him some cuddles?” Jake took the bear with a little hesitation. “Good job kiddo, you’re making Mister Bear very happy.” You say, wiping his tears away. “Come on, nap time. Linda will be right downstairs if you need anything.” With a kiss to his forehead, you leave his room.

Once you close his bedroom door, you start pacing the hallway. Katie takes your hand, “Let’s get downstairs, baby.” You continue your pacing when you get to the living room. “Why can’t I remember where I last saw his bunny?” It was frustrating that you could not picture the last time you saw Jake holding Benny. “It’s okay, baby, I will text Viv and ask her to look at their place, and we will go to the beach and check there. We’re going to find Benny, okay?”

You made your way over to the beach, the route passed Viv and Beth’s so if they would find the bunny you could go there instead. Viv texted before you passed their exit that they couldn’t find the bunny anywhere in the living room, hallway or backyard, where Jake had been today. So, the beach was your last hope.

After walking every inch of the luckily rather small beach back and forth for the third time, you plopped down on the sand. The frustrations and emotions were getting the better of you as you started crying. “What am I going to do? Benny is his favourite stuffed animal.” Your thoughts started spiralling. How were you going to be able to explain this to your toddler? You could already see the pout and the sadness behind his eyes. Your breathing sped up until it was getting hard for you to breathe. Katie noticed what was happening right away, and sat down in front of you. “Hey baby, look at me.” Your vision was blurry, but you turned your head in the direction of her voice. “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay. Can you take a deep breath in for me?” You tried to take a big breath, but after inhaling for a second you were struggling again. “That was good, let’s try another one.” She took one of your hands and put it over her heart. “Can you feel my heartbeat, baby?” You nodded weakly. “Okay good, focus on my heart beating, and try to take another deep breath in.”

Focussing on Katie’s heartbeat helped you to stay grounded, and breath by breath, your breathing started to get more regular. “What happened?” You ask while wiping away your tears. “I think you just had a panic attack.” You stand up and start ridding yourself of sand. “Take it easy baby, let’s take a moment.” Katie tries to make you take a break. “No need, we need to find this bunny. I already ruined our afternoon, I don’t want to ruin it further by not coming home with Jake’s bunny.” Katie is quick to her feet and places her hands on your shoulder. “You did not ruin our afternoon. I will gladly search over this beach ten more times, if that means I got to spend time with you, and make Jake happy.”

Before you could respond to Katie’s kind words, you were interrupted by her phone ringing. “Hey Viv, you’re on speaker, y/n is with me.” Katie said as she picked up the call. “Ah that’s great. I have good news, we found Benny.” You couldn’t believe it and fell into Katie’s arms. “Thank you so much Viv. That is so good to hear.” Katie wrapped her arm around you, and placed a kiss onto your forehead. “Yeah thanks Viv. We’re at the beach now, so we’ll come pick it up on the way, if that’s okay with you.” Viv agrees, “Yeah, just one thing. The reason we couldn’t find it before was because Myle is the one that found him, and he might have a severed limb now. We are so sorry, y/n.” You shake your head, just happy that the beloved stuffed animal was found. “Don’t worry about it Viv, I’m just glad I don’t have to tell Jake that the whole bunny is gone.”

Once you got back home with the bunny and his loose arm, Linda was quick to say that she could fix him. Linda got to work right away, and got done just in time, as you heard Jake waking up upstairs. She handed you the bunny, and you made your way upstairs. “Hi Jakey.” Your son looked up at you with big hopeful eyes. “You won’t believe the adventure Benny has been on today.” You say as you reveal the stuffed animal. “Mommy found Benny!” You had never seen the boy wake up so quickly. “Actually auntie Viv did, because little Benny went on an adventure with Myle today.” You made up a story about Benny and Myle in hopes the boy would forget about the sadness of losing his stuffy, and by the smile on his face, you think you were doing a pretty good job.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#mini mate universe #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe imagine #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #awfc imagine #awfc x reader

372 notes · View notes

alexetbishop · 2 months

Text

BAD DAY

Pairing: Kate Bishop x reader

Summary: Kate comforts you after you had a bad day.

————————————————————————

"Hey baby, I'm home!" Kate's words echoed through what is seemed like an empty apartment if it wasn't for Lucky barking and wagging his tail happily, seeing that his owner came home.

She carefully placed her gear in a corner, gave Lucky a few scratches behind his ears and looked around confused as to why you're not coming to greet her with a hug like you always do. So she searches all over the apartment for you until she reaches your bedroom.

She finds you laying down on the queen sized bed under the covers with your back turned against Kate. "Baby?" She whispered, thinking that you were probably sleeping. But you turned your head around, a sad and tired expression prevails on your face.

She frowns and crouches down next to the bed. "Oh, darling. What's wrong?" Her left hand came up to cup your cheek and caress it softly.

You stayed silent, your body moving and turning to face Kate.

She kissed your forehead, checking if you had a fever but the temperature seemed normal. "Did something happen? Did you have a bad day?" She asked with no rush whatsoever.

You simply nodded.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Her voice was as gentle as the flap of a butterfly.

You shake your head.

She gazed at you for a second before leaning forward and kissing you on the cheek. "Stay right here. I'll be right back." She stood up and rushed out the bedroom.

She quickly changed into something more comfortable than her tight fitting superhero suit. She hated seeing you sad, and even if she was extremely tired and barely standing she would do anything to cheer you up.

So now she's in the kitchen preparing two hot chocolates with whipped cream and marshmallows along with some of your favourite snacks. She also made sure to pick up your favourite movies from the vast collection you gathered along the years.

"Here I come!" She said when she returned to the bedroom with a tray full of snacks, two hot chocolates and a couple CDs. Lucky was following right behind.

The smell of chocolate invaded your nostrils, you sat up and a small smile tugged at your lips. That sight alone made you feel so much better.

She walked up to the bed and places the tray by your feet. Then she crawled on the bed, sitting next to you and putting an arm around your waist, smiling at you with her tired face. Lucky jumped on the bed of course and took a cookie in his mouth. "Hey! These are not for you, buddy. You already had your dinner." She scolds the dog and turns her attention back to you, her fingers caressing your side lovingly.

"Katie... you didn't have to this." You looked back and forth between the tray and your girlfriend. You knew she was exhausted, the bags under her eyes and relaxed smile were a clear sign. Seeing her like that made you feel a bit guilty that she had to go all her way to cheer you up.

She shakes her head and presses a sweet kiss on your lips. "Shh. Just relax and drink this mind blowing hot chocolate I made for you." She hands you one of the mugs.

You smile and kiss her again. "Thank you." You say quietly but with so much love it could burst out of your heart any moment.

You spend the night snuggling with Kate while you watch your favourite movies and eat snacks. Lucky is laying at your feet and occasionally steals some crackers from the tray. At this point Kate is too exhausted to scold him so she lets him be.

Halfway through the second movie Kate turns to you, her eyes are fluttering close, she's clearly about to fall asleep. "I love you." She whispers before kissing you goodnight and passing out right on your shoulder.

You admire her as she lightly snores next to you, she has some little cuts all over her face that you should probably treat but she looks so comfortable and peaceful you decide to put it off until the next morning.

You reach out with your hand and tuck a loose strand that was falling on her cheek behind her ear.

"I love you." You whisper before kissing her forehead. Yet, even those words cannot express how grateful you are for having someone like Kate always by your side.

And almost as if she had heard you, her hands squeeze your waist and her face nuzzles deeper into you, her steady breaths hitting your neck and sending shivers through your whole body.

You turn off the TV, put the tray on the bedside table and lay down in a more comfortable position while still being snuggled up to your girlfriend. You close your eyes and in a matter of minutes you were falling into a deep slumber.

#kate bishop #kate bishop x you #fluff #kate bishop fluff #kate bishop x reader

157 notes · View notes

kamotecue · 2 months

Text

a spooky nightmare ★ k. mccabe

pairing: katie mccabe x fem!reader

summary: you had a spooky nightmare, so you get comforted by your lover.

the shared bedroom was quiet, you would occasionally hear the soft sounds of the pages of a book being flipped, but you weren't really awake - in fact, the recent training had exhausted you. you swiftly walked to the room, collapsing into the bed not minding the soft yet wide smile that was seen on your lover's face. it's been a year since you've been dating the irish captain, the love story began on the football pitch - you with your precise passes and strategtic moves made you a force to be reckoned with - something that caught her eye, as she met her fair share of talented, world class players.

jessie fleming, your national teammate had teased you, as you fumbled over your words - since you had freshly graduated from ucla, jessie was the one to take you under her wing, despite being the shyest player on the team. but that was when everyone who knew you, knew that things would change - together, you both formed a dynamic duo, not just on the pitch but also in your hearts.

the connection was instant in a way, a spark that ignited a love that transcended borders and time zones, you played for a different league - the spanish league was definitely a challenge, having to join real madrid. yet despite the distance between the two lovers, katie and you had found ways to nurture the relationship, often traveling thousands of miles just to be in each other's arms or sacrificing your sleep schedule just to have a simple yet comforting call.

yet one night, as you laid sleeping in your shared bed, katie who sat by your side, engrossed in a book (that was yours) - what was it that fans called you? a booktok girl, someone who'd definitely is a fan of books, the books in this apartment were nothing compared to your mini library in your madrid apartment. the soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room, casting a warm light on your peaceful face.

katie took a long glance at you, admiring your beauty, the feeling that never faded no matter how many times she looked at you - looking at you was definitely one of her favorite things, but she loved being with you the most. yet her eyes were brought away from the book, as your peaceful slumber was interrupted by a sharp gasp. sitting up abruptly, you placed a hand on your chest - it was heaving as if you had been running for miles. katie immediately placed her (your) book aside and reached out to you, concern etched on her face.

"what's wrong, puddin?" your lover's voice was as soft as ever, despite being known to get carded during a match - katie mccard, the arsenal fans would tease. her voice was laced with worry, as your breathing was ragged as you tried to calm yourself.

"i had this silly nightmare" you managed to say, your voice trembling a little bit.

"do you want to talk about it?" katie wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer to her as you placed your head on her chest - listening to her heartbeat, trying to calm yourself down.

you nodded, as your voice barely above a whisper. you recounted the dream, a terrifying vision of being trapped in a dark, suffocating space, with no way out. in your dream, youwas back on the field, but this time, every move you made was met with failure and disappointment.

"it was so real, love," you said, your voice filled with fear. "i felt like i was drowning, like i couldn't breathe."

katie hummed, listened intently, her heart breaking for her beloved. she knew how much football meant to you (as she also played), how deeply it was ingrained in your identity. to have such a nightmare was truly unsettling.

"shh, it's okay, puddin," katie murmured, gently stroking your hair. "you're safe now. it was just a dream."

together, they sat in the silence of the night, katie providing comfort and reassurance to you. as the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, you felt a sense of relief wash over her, knowing that katie was there to chase away the shadows of your nightmares.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #arsenal wfc imagine #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe imagine

277 notes · View notes

goldkirk · 5 months

Text

All I can say is listen to kids. Listen to kids and if they don’t like being around or interacting with someone ask why.

#that is all.#shh katie #and listen to what they can’t or don’t know how to say

59 notes · View notes

sunlian · 1 month

Text

fucked up creature experiences remorse

#shh heather #yesui dotharl #when i posted this in a little xiv server im in katie relentless-endurance was like 'does she tho'

2 notes · View notes

sturniolos-blog · 7 days

Note

can u please do really heavy angst with dad!matt? but with a happy ending ofc

Shot - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - blood, shooting, swearing, violence, guns, angst, death, mid ending

disclaimer: first and 3rd person PoV

—————————

2:55pm

Ding

I looked away from my computer as i heard my text chime come from my phone.

Picking up my phone i read the text.

Esposo ❤️

can’t wait for you to get out of work baby

i love you

I smiled to myself before responding.

Esposo ❤️

can’t wait for you to get out of work baby

i love you

i love you too matt 💗

2:57pm

I responded before shutting off my phone.

Three more minutes Y/n. Three more then you get to go home to your husband and kids.

Y/n finished typing her article as the clock went from 2:59 to 3:00.

She was done for the day.

Picking up her stuff with her phone in her jean pocket, locking her office door and starting to walk down the hallway.

“Goodbye, Y/n. See you tomorrow!” The receptionist, katie said.

“Bye, katie. See you tomorrow.” I said, smiling at her.

I see my bestfriend Josie come out of the staff room with a coffee, I let out a laugh. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting off work now?” I asked her as she took a sip of her coffee.

“Yo soy, pero el jefe quiéreme stay longer.” She told me.

yo soy, pero el jefe quiéreme: i am, but the boss wants me to…

I shook my head, our boss didn’t particularly like us, it’s either because we were of a different race or because he didn’t like woman. Whatever the reason, it sucks, and he treats us differently, the only reason he keeps us is because we are too good at our job to be let go, and the only reason we put up with it is cause the moneys good.

“Cabrón, el es loco, dios mío.” I scoffed.

cabrón, el es loco, dios mío: bastard, he is crazy, my god

She put her hand on mine, basically telling me she wasn’t bothered by it. “Okay, enough about la chupacabra, we still on for Saturday?” She asked.

la chupacabra: weird animal type thing (search it up to get a better understanding)

I nodded, “Yes, Matt has the kids and no work, so we get the night off.” I told her.

She nodded, “Should we invite Chris? Maybe he needs some-”

I laughed, “Josie, stop obsessing over him! You’re crazy!” I said, starting to walk away again.

She followed me, “He’s hot, y/n!”

“Josie, you realize that if you call Chris hot you’re calling my husband hot because they’re triplets!” I said, taking a left into the hallway that had the elevator at the end of it.

Josie stopped for a second, “Oh my god, that’s disgusting.” She fake gagged.

I let out a laugh and pushed her shoulder, “Bye, weirdo. Love you.”

Josie laughed, “Love you too.” Before walking away back to where we had just came from.

I pressed the button for the elevator, waiting patiently.

Ding

My phone chimed again.

I went to check before i heard a BANG.

I jumped at how loud it was.

It was silent before i heard screaming, my coworkers were screaming.

Along with the screaming, i heard crying, my friends from work begging not to die.

Before i heard two more shots.

I was frozen, stuck in place as i heard footsteps coming around the corner, the same corner i just came from.

The elevator door wasn’t opening, so i decided to take a right and run down the hallway.

I knew there must’ve been a shooter, and he or she was right where my office was.

As i run i open a random office door, locking it and shutting the blinds, before i here a cough.

I look down and see Josie covered in blood, and a shot to her abdomen.

I almost let out a scream, but remembering the circumstances i didn’t, i let out a sob.

“Josie?” I sobbed, falling on my knees next to her.

“Y/n..” She breathed out, her holding her wound.

I pulled out my phone, calling 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?” An operator asked, female operator.

I let out a sob as Josie began to struggle to breathe.

“Y/n, s-shh..” She croaked out, putting her hand on my wrist for me to be quiet.

“T-there’s a shooting- the los angeles news office p-please come quick.” I cried.

“Okay, ma’m. Do you have any idea who the shooter is?” The operator asked.

I let out another sob, “N-no!” I said, maybe a little too loud.

Josie let out a cough, one that gathered a lot of blood to spit up on her chest. “Y/n, be quiet or you’re going to get hurt.” Josie said, squeezing my wrist slightly, not hurting me though.

“Alright. Help is on the way, i’d like you to stay on the line with me. Can you do that for me?” The nice lady asked me.

“M-mhm.” Y/n says, her hands shaking as she held the phone, her eyes locked on her bestfriend that was probably on her last breaths.

“Josie- j-josie! Keep your eyes open, p-please don’t die- this can’t happen you can’t die, i- i can’t! Come on, y-you’re my best friend, w-we’re supposed to get really rich and move far a-away together with my family, a-and matt’s gonna have to deal with having you around all the time because i love you. We are supposed to get out of this office, josie, together!” I sobbed as i held her in my arms.

“Ma’m, it’s best to stay quiet, you would not like to let the shooter know where you are.” The 911 operator butted in, i let out a quick mhm.

Josie smiled at me, “We will make it out of here, y/n. Don’t be so dramatic.” She tried to convince me.

I almost let out a laugh but another cry fell out of my mouth, “I can’t lose you, i can’t.”

Josie let out another cough, “I’m getting kind of tired, i think-”

I shook my head, “Josie, no, please, no no, Josie, no!” I held her to my chest as her eyes started to close.

“I love you, Y/n. Tell Ella and Mailo- and even Matt i love them too. You guys were a real family to me.” She said, letting out a few more coughs, before her body went still.

Y/n let out a blood curdling scream, the scream was loud enough for the police that were swarming outside to hear it, the scream was so loud she was going to be next.

“No- Josie, this isn’t funny, wake up, Jose. Come on! Fuck, please! Fucking wake up! We have plans on saturday! Josie please! Come on, i love you!” I shook her body but she didn’t wake up.

I heard sirens and the 911 operator in my ear, “Ma’m? What’s going on? Are you near the shooter?”

I let out multiple sobs, “M-my bestfriend! She’s dead! S-she’s- she’s dead!” Y/n sobbed, hugging her bestfriends body.

“Im so sorry, Y/n.” I heard the operator say before there was a bunch of commotion outside the office i was in, i heard the cops and a couple more shots.

—————————

3:24pm

Y/n was brought outside with a police officer that rubbed her back, bringing her to an ambulance.

Y/n was still, silent.

Death was weird, it’s like one minute you’re making plans with somebody and the next minute that somebody is dead. Isn’t it weird?

Well to Y/n it was.

Right now she didn’t know what to feel, happy she’s alive to go home to her husband and kids? Or heartbroken that the person who understood her the most was taken away from her, in her own arms.

“Whats your name, hon’?” Asked a EMT, pulling Y/n out of her thoughts.

“Y/n Sturniolo.” She croaked out, her throat scratchy from her crying.

The EMT nodded, offering a soft smile, “Okay.. I need someone we can contact, someone who can pick you up?”

Y/n rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, “My husband is taking care of my kids i don’t want them to see me like this.” Y/n said, swallowing harshly as she pointed out that she was covered in blood, not that it was hers but she’d never want her kids to see her like that, that vulnerable.

The EMT nodded, “Well, Y/n, it appears that you’re still recovering from shock, so why don’t we give your husband a call, is that okay?” The EMT pushed.

Y/n’s ears started ringing, “I just- i need to go home, i’m so tired.” She whispered out.

The EMT placed a hand on her shoulder, “Let us call your husband.” The EMT whispered with a whole lot of care in her voice, taking in and acknowledging Y/n’s state.

Y/n looked up at the EMT, giving a slight nod before pulling her phone out and dialing Matt before giving the EMT her phone.

The EMT muttered a ‘thank you’ and turned her back towards Y/n when Matt had answered the phone.

“Hi, is this Matt sturniolo?”

“Okay, great. My name is Abby gibbons I am an EMT for the Los Angeles hospital, I’m afraid to tell you that there has been a shooting in your wife’s place of work-”

“Mr.Sturniolo, your wife is okay…”

That’s when the EMT’s voice drifted off, Y/n closed her eyes, her head leaning on the side of the ambulance truck.

Falling asleep.

—————————

3:47pm

Matt rushed out of his car, walking towards where all the commotion was.

He looks around before spotting Y/n sitting on the back of an ambulance with her eyes closed as her head was leaned on the side of the truck, an EMT standing with a clip board.

Matt rushed over there.

“Sorry, there was so much traffic and i had to drop the kids off-” Matt’s breathing is quick and rapid, “Sorry, i don’t-” Matt shook his head as he placed his hand on his chest.

Y/n rubbed her eyes as she started to wake up.

Matt had tears down his face.

“Y/n is okay and free to go home, she is dehydrated so i recommend giving her lots of water.” The EMT told Matt.

Matt nodded and went to give Y/n a hug, Y/n didn’t hug back which was weird but Matt didn’t say anything.

“There’s blood- why are you covered in it?” Matt said as he pulled away from the hug.

Y/n shrugged, “It’s not mine.” She said as she got up, scratching her head.

Matt quirked his eyebrows, “Then who-?”

“It’s Josies, she died.” Y/n cut Matt off as she pulled out her phone, starting to go on it as Matt’s face dropped.

Matt let a few more tears drop down his cheek before he wiped them away, knowing Y/n should be hurting, should be crying, should be showing some sort of emotion but she's not.

"I'm so tired, Matt. Can we go home, please?" Y/n asked as she stood up.

Matt nodded as he grabbed her arm to help her, "We can go."

—————————

4:28pm

They both walked in the house, Matt keeping his hand on the small of her back.

"I can run you a bath, sweetheart." Matt said as Y/n rubbed her forehead, she wasn't in a good state of mind.

Y/n looked towards Matt, nodding, "Okay, that sounds nice. I'm just gonna call Josie, we have plans on Saturday. You're still gonna babysit the kids then, right?"

Matt lets out a sigh, flashing a smile, "Yeah, i got them." Matt reassured, making Y/n smile and pull out her phone, dialing Josie's number.

Y/n stands there, picking at her nails, waiting for Josie to pick up, but as expected she didn't.

Y/n let out a 'huh', shrugging before she put her phone down on the coffee table, "She didn't answer.." Y/n says, her face curious as to why her bestfriend didn't answer her.

Matt bit his lip, trying not to cry at his wife's lost state. "She might be busy, n/n. Maybe you should get in the bath and she'll call you back later?" Matt suggests, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Y/n nods, "Okay."

————

"Arms up.." Matt muttered, Y/n doing as he said while he pulled her shirt off her body.

He put the shirt in the bathroom sink before turning back to Y/n, reaching behind her back and unclipping her bra, throwing it alpng with her shirt.

His hands made their way to her pants, unbuttoning the jeans and pulling them down, along with her underwear. "Step." He mumbled as Y/n held onto his shoulders, letting out a giggle as she stepped out of her clothes, now ready to get into the bath.

Y/n got in the bath sinking into the water. Matt watched as she did this, she was peaceful and unbothered.

"I'm gonna go put your clothes in the wash, i'll be right back, sweetgirl." He said softly, leaning down and kissing her head before he walked out of the bathroom.

That's when Y/n closed her eyes, she knew matt was acting different, but after she took a short nap when she was sitting in the ambulance she couldn't remember what had happened just 15 minutes prior.

Ambulance..? Why was she sitting in the back of the ambulance? Y/n thought, her eyebrows furrowing as she tried to remember. Y/n then took a breath, hugging her knees to her chest before closing her eyes.

As i run i open a random office door, locking it and shutting the blinds, before i here a cough.

I look down and see Josie covered in blood, and a shot to her abdomen.

Y/n shook her head and rubbed her eyes at the memory. Closing her eyes even tighter.

“Y/n, s-shh..” She croaked out, putting her hand on my wrist for me to be quiet.

Y/n started to remember everything now.

Josie let out another cough, “I’m getting kind of tired, i think-”

I shook my head, “Josie, no, please, no no, Josie, no!” I held her to my chest as her eyes started to close.

Y/n let out a blood curdling scream...

“No- Josie, this isn’t funny, wake up, Jose. Come on! Fuck, please! Fucking wake up! We have plans on saturday! Josie please! Come on, i love you!” I shook her body but she didn’t wake up.

I let out multiple sobs, “M-my bestfriend! She’s dead! S-she’s- she’s dead!” Y/n sobbed, hugging her bestfriends body.

“Im so sorry, Y/n.” I heard the operator say.

Y/n was now crying, her face buried in her hands as she let out gut-wrenching cries, her whole body shaking.

Matt ran back into the bathroom as he heard her cries from downstairs.

He kneeled next to the bathtub, putting his hand on her wet back. "What's going on, baby? Are you hurt? Are y-"

Y/n cut him off, "She's dead, Matt! She's gone! A-and I couldn't save her, I couldn't do it!" Y/n cried out, her breaths fast and heavy.

Matt bit his lip and shook his head, "It's not your f-fault, Y/n. It's not, sweetheart, it's not." Matt held her close to his body, kissing her head as she sobbed into his chest, letting it all out.

—————————

6:32pm

Y/n was currently sitting at her vanity, looking into the mirror as Matt brushed her wet hair.

She was emotionless, eyes puffy and red from crying.

Matt kissed the side of her head, "How are you doing, love?" He asked softly.

She responded with a shrug, making Matt nod and continue to brush her hair.

As he finished brushing her hair he placed the brush down on the vanity, letting out a sigh as he turned her chair around to face him.

Matt looked down at her as she made eye contact with him. "Y/n, you have every right to feel what you're feeling. It's going to be hard the next couple months, years whatever it won't stop getting hard, but i need you to promise me, that you'll be okay.." Matt said, making Y/n look down.

He grabbed her face softly with his hand, making her look back up at him. "Y/n promise me you will be okay, a-and you won't do anything stupid. Please, baby, please." He begged.

Y/n nodded, "Eventually..i'll be okay."

—————————

How are we feeling guys ?

My heart hurts

tag list: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo @mattybswife @streamermattsgf @sturnolio-luvs @sturnioloslurps @marlenafortuna @lovergirl4387 @sturniololovesss @junnniiieee07 @khxna

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #spotify #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #tw grief

105 notes · View notes

bitten-fruit · 3 months

Text

you invite him inside

It's Summer 2007, and you're on your way home from a party in Edinburgh. You encounter an exceptionally forward Scottish stranger with a buzzed head and a brow ring, calling himself Soap - you roll the dice, and let him walk you home.

18+ MDNI - cw: reader is drunk - 5k words

tags: Indie Sleaze(!!) Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish x f!Reader, teasing & denial, flirting & banter

a/n: this is (some) of the first chapter of my longfic Trainspotting on A03, bitterfruit. I thought I'd share on here since I'm working on a part 2!! ♡

You carve through the beating crowd of the house party; sloshing drinks and drunken hands intercept you as you attempt to navigate your way to the front door. MGMT’s Kids thunders from the speakers in the hallway, its deafening volume only exacerbated by the passionate chanting of the dancers that hover around it.

Control yourself! Take only what you neeeed from it!

Your friend Katie, who had brought you as a plus-one, had long disappeared with some boy she had been all over - taking your coat with her - leaving you to make your way home in nothing but your needlessly skimpy playboy bunny costume.

Finally stumbling out of the dense jungle of partygoers, you burst through the front door as if you’d just been birthed, sweaty and panting.

Just a fifteen-minute walk.

With your arms crossed, you trudge down the steps in the stiletto pumps you had borrowed from Katie – glossy, sharp, and a size too small. Fuck, they ache. Before you even make it past the gate, you throw in the towel and unstuff your feet from their latex trappings; holding the shoes with two fingers hooked at the heels, doing your best to avoid stepping on the broken glass on the footpath.

As your distance from the house party grows and the echoes of Paper Planes begin to fade, it dawns on you that you’re far drunker than you had believed yourself to be. Being surrounded by students two boxes and three pingers deep has the tendency to make you feel staunchly sober by comparison.

Still, you feel the slabs of concrete wobbling beneath your feet, your head starts to spin like you’ve stepped off a carousel if you shut your eyes for too long. The streets are utterly quiet, devoid of cars or people, despite the neighbourhood’s proximity to the CBD. You may well have found it off-putting if you were sober, but in truth, you’re just thanking Christ there’s nobody around to see you trotting down the road in nothing but a bodysuit and fishnets. You imagine a car might pull up alongside you, rolling slowly on its wheels as the driver asks through his window, “how much for an hour?”

And that would almost be preferable to what you actually encounter once you’re halfway home – crossing the street, stumbling in your bare feet as you walk past shops with steel shutters blocking their doors and windows.

You hear the distinctive thuds of sprinting feet from far behind you; the soles of sneakers slamming hard on the footpath, in a rapid enough pace that the person might as well be an Olympian runner. As they get louder, closer, your first instinct is to flee – but before you even have the chance to turn to look over your shoulder, the sprinter has come to a screeching halt beside you, tearing off their jacket and tossing it over your shoulders as if it were a cape.

“What the fu–” You yelp, hastily cut short.

“Shh – shut up, pretend y’know me.”

A man, and a local, evidently – the kind of Scottish accent so thick you can barely distinguish the beginning of one word from the end of another.

“Get away fr–”

He interrupts you once again, tossing an arm over your shoulder as he walks alongside you, shoving his other fist into the pocket of his loose black jeans. “Please, lassie, do me a favour and just go with it.”

Amidst his breathlessness he sounds quite desperate – voice deep and warm, oozing sincerity despite the edge in his tone. So you weigh your options, whether or not to trust him, or to help him, or to scream and flee. You tilt your head just enough to take a peek at him; he hunches over, shoulders shrugging high as if keeping his neck warm, head low like it might hide his buzzcut from whoever may be chasing him.

You quickly discover that there are, in fact, people chasing him – more echoes from further down the road of multiple sets of running feet. You hear an enraged roar from a man behind you; your body tenses on instinct, head twisting further in the hopes of checking how close they are to you.

“Don’t look at ‘em,” he instructs you pointedly, under his breath.

More indistinguishable yelling erupts from his pursuers, though they no longer seem to be approaching. “Cheap fucken’ trick, ye fucken’ coward!”

“Keep walkin’ with me,” he mutters, tugging you along with his heaving arm draped around the back of your neck, forcing you to accelerate so that you can keep up with him.

Adrenaline throbbing hotly in your ears, you try to steal glances at the controlling stranger, not able to see much of him in your periphery. You realise now that the gifting of his jacket was not a chivalrous gesture, but a failed attempt to trick his pursuers. “Sounds like they’ve spotted you,” you whisper-yell, facing ahead.

“Aye,” he grunts, “but they won’t touch me if there’s a witness.”

“I don’t want to be a witness,” you squeak, nervous terror in your throat.

He chuckles breathily, gives a single shake of his head. “Too late.”

“Next time I see ye, yer a fucken’ dead man, hear me? With or without yer hoor!”

The stranger groans as he scoops you around a corner, keeping a hurried pace, shooting looks over his shoulder to ensure he’s no longer being followed. Fortunately – or, unfortunately – this was the corner you would have taken anyway.

“Did he just call me a whore?” You whisper, still in shock.

He chortles at you again, sliding his weighty arm from your shoulders and releasing you at long last. “Ignore ‘em. Fucken' wankers.”

You finally have the opportunity to turn around fully to check behind you, seeing only empty, silent street.

“They won’t follow us,” he assures you, still walking alongside you, arrogant in his assumption that you won’t tell him to fuck off.

But you don’t, not yet. “Why – why were they chasing you?”

“Nosy wee thing, aren’t ye?” He smiles, crossing his arms, and you finally get a good look at him.

Hair buzzed short, the sort of job he likely did himself over his sink with an electric clipper plugged into the wall. A curved barbel pierces through the tail of his left eyebrow, almost as flashy as the sharp grey eyes pointing down at you from beneath it. His grin pushes dimples into his densely stubbled cheeks, revealing charmingly crooked teeth, and a golden crown on his right canine.

There’s something tired, jaded about him, dark eyes and low brows; face speckled with a variety of little scars, one white slash through his right eyebrow, a few pink lines carving over his temple and through his shaven scalp.

You blink, reminding yourself to speak.

“Nosy?” You snap, “you brought me into this!”

He tilts his head, appearing to acquiesce. “Aye, true. They’re just mad ‘cos I short-changed ‘em.”

As he shrugs, the hem of his cropped t-shirt tugs up on his stomach, revealing the hem of plaid boxers sticking out from his baggy trousers, a sliver of firm abdomen, a dusting of curly hair trailing down from his navel. You swallow.

“Hm. For what?” You pester.

“Now yer bein’ nosy.”

You huff, crossing your arms underneath the cape of his jacket, checking over your shoulder one last time to be certain you’re no longer being stalked.

“Fine,” you pout. After a beat of silence, you decide to add; “I’m not a prostitute, by the way.”

He snickers hoarsely, “’course not. Prostitutes are much more subtle. You’d be the first I’ve ever seen dressed as a – a what, a bunny?”

He reaches behind you, the cocky prick, lifting the back of his cloaking jacket and flicking the puffball pinned to your ass. You gawk at him, a surge of adrenaline buzzing within your chest – curious, that it’s not out of fear but fascination.

“See a lot of prostitutes, do you?” You sneer, noting how briefly his gaze lingers on your backside before it flits to your face.

“Not ‘round this side of town,” he chortles. You suspect he’s joking, but who’s to say? “So… why a bunny?”

“Playboy bunny,” you correct him, turning your head to glance at him; he just looks bewildered. “Pimps and hoes party.”

He laughs, richly, lurching forward as he does. “Ha! Had no idea they still did those.”

“Sure do,” you say, failing to suppress your grin. “Too old for them, are you?”

“Aye, for house parties full o’ students,” he admits, “but not too old to party. M’only twenty-six.”

You smile. “Good for you.”

“Got no girlie-mates to walk ye home?” He changes the subject.

Peeking at him, you squint. “You’re not supposed to ask a girl if she’s alone, you know.”

“Oh,” he frowns, “why’s that?”

“Like, stranger danger.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles deeply. “Do you think I’m dangerous?”

You turn to look at him, running your eyes from his cocksure grin, down to his Chucks and back again. He certainly looks the part. Rough around the edges. You wonder if you would have avoided him, had he not approached you so blithely.

“Very,” you nod. “Plus, you’re following me.”

“Am I?” He jibes, “well, love, if ye want me to leave y’alone, tell me and I’ll try to leave ye be.”

Your pout shifts into a girlish smirk despite your dire efforts to contain it. “You’ll try?”

“Mm. Might be easier said than done,” he ribs, leering down at you. Your quiet titter only serves to embolden him. “It’s probably for the best that I found ye.”

“You reckon?”

“Mm. Not very bright o’ye to be walking home by yerself at this hour. And in that.”

You click your tongue impatiently. “You sound like my mum.”

“Then she’s a smart woman,” he says, with a sternness that leaves you taken aback.

You peer up at him, scrutinising. For fuck’s sake, you curse at yourself, get a grip. All better judgement, your guardian angel, screams at you to stop flirting with this bizarre studded stranger and hurry your ass home. But the little devil on your other shoulder is far more interested in seeing how this unusual interaction plays out.

“You gonna protect me, are ya?” You probe.

“Naturally,” he chuffs.

“Walking me home, then?”

A devilish grin stretches in his lips. “Happily.”

“Promise you’re not a psychopath or something?”

He inhales deeply, blowing a raspberry as he puts his hands on his hips. “No promises.”

“Mm. Well, I shouldn’t be surprised,” you say, “only psychopaths would roam the streets at three-a.m.”

“Yeah? What does that make you?”

You giggle. “Shit. You got me.”

“You bet I do. What kind of psycho wears a fucken’ outfit like that ‘on the streets at 3-a.m.’?”

Taking a peek down at yourself, you’re confronted immediately by your obnoxious cleavage, unsure how you could have forgotten it was there. You decide to slip your arms into the roomy sleeves of his jacket, wearing it properly rather than as a cloak – much warmer.

“What’s wrong with it?” You wonder in jest, feigning offence.

“Yer jokin’.” He scoffs.

“What?” You gaze at him, with a cock of your brow; he unashamedly glowers at you, vibrantly grey eyes raking from your lips to your feet before climbing back to your stare.

He huffs petulantly. “I could see yer tits from across the street,” he murmurs, “don’t make me say something about the stockings.”

You laugh coyly, feeling your cheeks burn hot and red. Seems like you got the answer you wanted. “S’that why you ran up to me, huh?”

He shakes his head. “Nae. That was just dumb luck.”

“Ah. Lucky you.”

“Mhm,” he rumbles, voice low, “very lucky.”

Why is your heart fluttering? Why are you suddenly hanging on his every word like a fucking teenage girl? You blame the cherry-flavoured RTDs you were knocking back every ten minutes while you were at that party. They’ve made your cheeks all pink and your tongue all wet.

Yet in the current quiet, strolling nonchalantly down an empty street at half-past three in the morning, you don’t feel any awkwardness in the silence. You just smile at your feet like an idiot.

“What’s yer name, then?” He asks casually, both fists in his pockets.

You hum in thought, “hmm. I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“You’re a stranger, remember?”

“So?” He disputes, grinning and playfully biting his bottom lip with his top teeth, brandishing that glistening golden canine.

You shake your head. “Who knows what you could do with my name! You could be a stalker for all I know,” you explain defensively, “you might find out where I work on MySpace, or something.”

He snickers. “Wouldn’t need MySpace to figure that out, lass.”

Frowning, you give him a disapproving smirk. “You’re proving my point.”

“Ye really won’t tell me?”

“Nope.”

He huffs disappointedly. “Alright, then, I’ll just have to call ye the bunny I found on the street.”

“Fine by me,” you declare proudly. “What can I call you, then? The playboy?”

With a chuckle, he purses his lips in contemplation. “The playboy to yer bunny, I like that,” he says. “But, pals call me Soap.”

“Soap?” You question incredulously, “seriously?”

“Aye. If I can’t have yer name, y'can’t have mine.”

You snort. “Is it meant to be ironic?”

“Can’t be,” he refutes, quick to detect your insult, “I’m clean as a whistle.”

As you open your mouth to offer back some snippy response, you spot your mailbox, number eighteen, three terraced townhouses down – you had lost track of how long the walk was, your charming stranger having sponged up every last drop of your attention.

You find yourself disappointed, unjustifiably; you even consider, briefly, not mentioning that you had arrived home just so you can keep walking with him. God, you’re pathetic.

But imagining yourself having to eventually turn around, having to admit that you purposefully missed your stop – you begrudgingly decide to be a good girl and put yourself to bed.

“This is me,” you say flatly, slowing your steps before you come to a stop.

“Ah,” he stops beside you and rocks on the balls of his feet. “Bugger.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, mindlessly slipping your hands into the pockets of his jacket, preceding a reluctant silence. “Well, um... thanks for walking me home. Who knows what danger I could’ve gotten into.”

He waves away your jocose gratitude. “Oh, ‘course,” he says, “had to make sure ye didn’t get tricked into a chase by some strange gadgie.”

You snicker. “Oh, yeah. That would be terrifying.”

Crossing his arms, her gives you a wide but wistful grin. “Alright. I’ll leave you to it, hen.”

“Okay,” you nod, chewing your lip, you feel something in his pocket – rolling it between your fingers, feels like a wad of paper. Cash? A receipt? You start to wonder what he might have ‘short-changed’ those thugs for. Don’t be nosy. “Oh – your jacket.”

As you slip it off your shoulders, he disputes; “don’t wanna keep it as a memento?”

You chuckle, frowning, shaking your head in bemusement. Memento? What a peculiar bloke. “No. It sorta smells.”

“Bollocks,” he retorts, reaching to take the jacket from you – a brown leather bomber, now that you can see it properly. “I smell divine.”

God, he does. Like patchouli and sweat and leather; some sort of earthy masculine concoction, the kind of scent that’s probably entirely accidental – underpinned, you note, by something strangely chemical, like he had just taken a walk through a hospital. Still, so delightfully distinct from the stench of Axe body spray that the boys at your university gassed themselves with daily.

You pass him the bomber, shivering once your scantily clad body is once again exposed to the chilly air of the night. He’s quite shameless, this stranger, eyes almost bulging as they comb brazenly over you – legs, hips, tits – finally getting a good look at you, he takes his time.

“Eyes up here, playboy,” you chide.

He smirks, piercing gaze jumping to yours while his head remains tilted down; you’re almost intimidated the intensity of his eye contact from under his brow. “Aye. They’re just as pretty.”

“Alright, alright,” you giggle, face glowing hot. “I’d better turn in.”

“Yes, you’d better.”

Before you bring yourself to turn around, his hand reaches toward you, plucking the bunny-eared headband from the top of your head.

“Oi!” You bark, smoothing your disturbed hair; watching in confusion as he meticulously sits them on his head, flicking one of the fuzzy white ears with a pleased grin stretched in his lips.

“I want a memento,” he explains boldly. “Never know when I'm dreamin’ these days.”

You stare at him in bewilderment, amused and oddly endeared. He slips on his jacket, stuffing his hands into his pockets and shrugging it over his shoulders.

“Fine, all yours,” you capitulate, smiling meekly, once again letting a pregnant silence linger while you resist a goodbye. “Um. Alright. Goodnight. Soap.”

He nods. “G’night, wee bunny.”

You nod, too, finally turning on your bare feet and walking up the stairs of your flat’s brick stoop. Fumbling around in your handbag, you pluck out your keys – jingling loudly with all of your various keychains as you unlock the painted white door.

You hear his footsteps as he strolls away, slowly, growing duller as the distance grows. You find yourself frozen in the open doorway, staring into the dark abyss of your foyer, facing solitude. Bouncing in dispute with yourself, you exert all strength to bite your tongue. Don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid, don’t be stupid.

He starts to whistle, some obscure tune from just down the street, as if he is purposefully reminding you he’s still in earshot – a smug little prompt.

Fuck it.

Spinning around to face the road, you lean out of the door, and call out; “Hey!”

As though he had expected it, he stops in his tracks, twirling on his heel to face you with his hands still in his pockets. Had lit himself a cigarette already, in the thirty seconds since you had bid him farewell.

“Hm? Want the ears back after all?”

“Um–” You scramble to come up with an excuse. “Those guys won’t be looking for you, will they?”

He grins. “Oh, they could well be.”

“What’ll they do if they find you?”

“Who knows,” he huffs. “Probably kill me. Might gimme one o’ those Glasgow smiles.”

“That would be pretty terrible,” you remark solemnly.

“Aye. It sure would.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, battling with your drunken little demon. “Maybe you should hide out here for the night.” You daft bitch.

“Hm,” he ponders aloud, sauntering slowly back towards your stairs, squinting in thought. “Sounds like a bad idea.”

“How come?” You challenge, tapping the inside of the doorframe with shy fingers.

He creeps up your short footpath. “Never know what might happen.”

Your lips curl into an impish smirk. “That’s the best part.”

He laughs, plucking the cigarette from his teeth, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. “How drunk are ye. On a scale one-through-ten.”

“Um,” you muse, biting your lip. “I’m not that drunk.”

“Well, hen, you must be steamed. ‘Cos that’s not a number.”

You snicker, then groan impatiently. “Four.”

“Only four, eh?” He asks dubiously, standing at the base of your stairs, he gazes up at you devilishly. “You gonna remember in the mornin’ that you asked me to come in?”

“’Course,” you say. “I want you to come inside.”

He sneers. Filthy boy. “Don’t wanna get in trouble,” he refutes.

“I want you to come in,” you insist, correcting your wording just slightly.

He hums, feigning deep thought, as if he hasn’t been hoping you’d ask. “Alright,” he surrenders. “Why not.”

You do your best to conceal your glee, nodding, grinning, you turn to step inside and you hear him follow you.

“Ye live alone?” He asks, as he looks around the empty hallway, shrouded in darkness.

Shutting the door behind you and locking it, you tut at him. “Still shouldn’t ask that.”

“You’ve already invited me in,” he jeers, “if you’re worried I’ll hurt ye, you’ve made it well easy for me.”

“I s’pose so,” you admit, smiling sheepishly as you go to switch on the light hanging in the centre of the foyer. Christ, it’s a tip – you and Katie are equally dishevelled, leaving shoes and lip gloss and hair ties and clothes in your wake wherever you venture. “Can’t be too careful,” you add – very aware of how uncareful you are being.

“Do I scare ye?” He asks coyly, taking a raffish drag of his cigarette.

“I dunno,” you answer frankly, leaning bashfully against your front door with your hands tucked behind you. “Should I be scared of you?”

“Mm,” he shrugs, “probably.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Stranger danger,” you remind yourself.

“I reckon you’re a lot more dangerous than me,” he grins.

You frown. “Why’s that?”

He puts his cigarette between his lips, holding it with a pinch, taking a puff as he eyes you scrupulously. “Look at you.”

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth. Fucking hell.

“I have a flatmate,” you finally answer his initial question, and change the subject. “But she’s not home tonight.”

“Good,” he says, milky smoke spilling from his smile.

“Um,” you make noises to fill your flustered silence. “Want to go upstairs?”

He cocks his eyebrows. “Lead the way.”

Pushing yourself from the door, you slip past him and trot up the staircase that sits flush with the panelled wall. The old oak creaks and moans under the weight of his heavy steps, he follows you steadily.

Rushing to get to your room before he can see it, you scuttle across to your bedroom door from the landing, hoping he ignores the kaleidoscope of peeling stickers you’ve tacked above the handle. You shove it open, quickly kicking aside a pair of twisted up panties you had left on your red shag rug.

In a blink he’s behind you, standing in the doorframe, a terrifyingly tall and bulky silhouette against the dim glow emerging from downstairs – made uniquely funny by the rabbit ears sticking up from his head.

You step over the piles of discarded outfit options and switch on the lamp by your bed; the yellow bulb glows coral pink from behind the vintage fabric lampshade. Looking back at him, he’s already perusing your room like it’s a museum.

He picks up and analyses the assortment of trinkets on your shelves and chest-of-drawers (old jewellery, empty lighters, some strange ceramic babies you once picked up at a flea market), and admires the mosaic of posters on your wall (Gorillaz, Feist, The Killers, MGMT, Arcade Fire, The Strokes, Peter Bjorn and John – careful cherry-picks of your favourite bands, in the hopes you’d one day impress some hot guy with taste as good as yours).

“Bit of an artiste, are ye?” He queries, nodding at the easel against your wall – housing a half-finished and long-hated painting of yours, an attempt at a masterwork copy of Monet; sitting amongst a bombsite of palettes, brushes in dirty cups, and curled-up tubes of oil paint.

“Guess so,” you answer. “It’s my degree.”

He leans into your hideous painting, taking a drag but careful not to stain the canvas with the smoke. “Still studying, then?”

“Yeah, uh, my Master’s.”

He nods. “If you’re already this good, what does a Master’s in painting get ye?”

You snort. “Good fuckin’ question.”

Feeling suddenly shy, you venture to busy yourself, electing to pull the curtains shut over your window.

You hear him chuckle while you aren’t looking. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

You spin on the ball of your foot, and freeze instantly – stare caught on your grape-coloured vibrator, held comfortably in the palm of his hand, he tosses it and catches it again. You had left it on your bed, a rookie mistake. You fucking idiot!

Your hand shoots to cover your mouth, fire burns white-hot behind your cheeks; but you can only giggle, humiliated. “Put that down,” you plead into your palm.

Ignoring you, he inspects it, quickly finding the button to turn it on; its buzzing rings out obnoxiously loud into the cripplingly awkward silence, forcing you to grimace. He doesn’t seem to find it awkward at all, holding the end of the purple rod into his other hand, curling his lips in disapproval as he evidently evaluates the vibration against his skin.

“Never understood why you girls like these things,” he remarks insouciantly.

“Please put it down,” you cry, staring at the ceiling as if it might hide you from the embarrassment.

He only sniggers. “Cannae compare to the real thing.”

You cover your eyes. “It fills the void,” you quietly admit.

He finally switches it off, but continues to fiddle with it as he ambles towards you. “Mustn’t do a very good job o’ that.”

Uncovering your face, finally, you jolt when you see how close he is to you – only a foot between you, you can feel the heat of him from where you stand. You do your utter best to prevent your eyes from jumping to the vibrator in his grip, but he still toys with it, as if just to taunt you.

“What makes you say that?”

He gazes down at you, lips stretched into a smug grin. “Why’d you invite me in, eh?”

You swallow, stifling a giggle – you look around capriciously, anywhere but his drilling stare. “Just wanted to help you out.”

“Help me out?” He interrogates you, inching forward, forcing you to step onto your back foot.

You’re suddenly short of breath. “I didn’t want you to get stabbed.”

He gleams that cheshire smile, suddenly his canines seem sharper. “You’re a bad liar, wee bunny.”

“Am I?” You utter, shambling back further has he continues to encroach.

“Took me to yer bedroom straight away… didn’t even offer me a drink…” he teases, “I’m thinkin’ ye want me to help you out.”

You feel a sudden bump as your back hits the door of your cupboard, shrinking as he leans over you, closing the gap. Your eyes catch on his lips as he again places his cigarette in between them, its smoke drifting softly over your face, your stare lingers.

“Dunno where you got that idea,” you breathe, entranced by the cloud that’s left in his mouth once he tugs the roll out again.

Don’t be stupid. Don’t be stupid. Don’t be stupid.

Ignoring any remaining shred of common sense, you step up on your tiptoes to slam your lips against his, sucking down the smoke lingering behind his teeth deep into your chest. He matches you with no hint of hesitation, leaning into you with the full weight of his body, you hear him finally drop the vibrator as it lands on the carpet with a dull thud.

Fuck, his tongue tastes good – like tobacco and peppermint chewing gum, soft and hungry as it writhes against yours. He does what he can with his one free hand, starting tastefully with a cup of your cheek, then a hold of the side of your neck, down to your shoulder – before plunging into a greedy handful of your breast, kneading it like dough.

His wet and eager lips drag along from yours, taking soft bites out of your cheek, hot tongue licking from your jaw to your neck, where he burrows his teeth. You let out a breathy whimper, fervid fingers clutch and claw at his chest through his t-shirt, using the fabric to pull him closer. His busy hand ventures along your waist, taking a palmful of your hip and tugging it only slightly towards him.

Impatient, ravenous, your fingers slither down his firm stomach to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling to get his button undone; you feel him smile against your skin, a breathy chuckle, before his other hand moves to stop you with a hold of your wrist.

He releases your neck from his maw, standing upright with a fucking cocky and self-satisfied grin plastered on his face. You let go of his button and return your hands to your sides, worried you’d been too eager, put him off with your fervour.

“Glad to know it’s this easy to get ye hot n’ bothered,” he drawls, taking another drag of what is now nearly just the butt.

“No idea what you mean,” you pant, utterly breathless, you sweep some stray hair from your forehead with your palm. “I’m not hot and bothered.”

“Aren’t you?” He goads, and the hand that clutches your hip sneaks towards your centre, prompting you to hold your breath; he snakes it over your mound, gliding it brazenly between your closed legs.

His shrewd eyes watch you, arrogantly, as he palms your aching pussy through the thin fabric of your bodysuit – under which you wore no panties, you wonder if he can feel how damp it is. He pushes a coaxing pressure against your covered clit with the heel of his palm, forcing you to whine in desperation; your insatiable hands return to his chest, balling the fabric of his t-shirt into your fists – and he only chortles.

“I could fry an egg on that,” he says.

And suddenly you snort, breaking into cackling laughter as you shove him away with both hands. “God, you’re disgusting!”

He laughs with you, proud of himself, he finally takes off the fucking bunny ears.

“I could hang a towel on that,” you jab, eyes suddenly caught on the frightening tent pitched in his roomy trousers. That can’t be real.

“You could hang a lot on it,” he agrees rakishly, chuckling, palming the length under his pants to tuck it away.

You try to contain your giggles as you push yourself upright, attempting to un-fluster yourself by smoothing your hair and wiping the dampness of his saliva from your neck. You feel the slippery wetness of your cunt with a step. “You’re evil,” you spit, still throbbing from his attention.

“Cannae fuck you yet,” he declares bluntly, turning to dump the end of his cigarette into your paintbrush cup full of brown water.

“Why not?” You pout, whingeing like a spoilt brat.

He returns with a debonair grin. “Gotta give you a reason to see me again.”

#johnny mactavish absolutely fucks with a brow ring #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x female reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #indie sleaze #johnny soap mactavish smut #soap x you

121 notes · View notes