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svmjaeyvn · 3 months

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love maze, s.jy.

chapter one pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

add yourself to the taglist here!

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

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CHAPTER ONE: PINEAPPLE

masterlist next

word count: 2.5k

warnings: alcohol, partying, creeper in a store, bestie jay, already stepping up to be a fake bf jake duhhh

a/n: short and sweet intro

"HEY SORRY, JAY's busy—”

"Hey baby!" You smile brightly, attempting to seem causal but emphasizing the conversation rather loudly. Wandering through the isles aimlessly, stopping to pretend to browse the selection of cereals while peeking through the corner of your eye, you keep watch on the unfamiliar man that seemed to be following you.

You've been at the store for 15 minutes, around 10 of those ago you noticed the same man over and over, passing by each other with first polite smiles which morphed into a sort of anxiety feeling on your end noting how he began to linger around more obviously, far enough away to not seem suspicious to those around but definitely setting off an alarm in your head to stay alert.

It was a Friday night, after finishing up with your last minute shift due to a coworker calling out, you decided it was time to finally grocery shop, something that you've been putting off all week due to laziness but now you wished you opted to eat eggs for the third day in a row rather than be here. Typically, you and Yunjin went to the store together, but with her out on a date, that left you alone for the night.

"We're still cooking for dinner right? I'm at the store right now picking stuff up," You continue after meeting confused silence on the other end. Due to the increasing gut feeling and you desperate for someone to come to your aid in at least knowing where you were if you did end up missing and on the news, you called the only person you knew in the area that would come. Jay Park, an extended family friend that you practically grew up attached to each others hips, had followed you along to the same Uni two years ago. With a three hour car ride being the distance to your home town, you and Jay depended on each other as a sort of familiarity and unspoken acknowledgment that there was support for one another.

University created a sort of distance in your relationship, both studying different majors and finding your own friend groups outside of one another but you still talked every other day through text and hung out occasionally. Jay, being a well know frat boy around campus, became a sort of gossip topic of him and his other frat members. His admittedly attractive looks that he grew into helping with his popularity along with his love for the party scene.

You on the other hand, were a home body more than anything. After your first year, you had moved into an apartment about 5 minutes away off-campus with your previous dorm-mate and newly founded best friend. You and Yunjin became close relatively fast and being able to get through freshmen year living together in the tiny space meant you'd work perfectly well moving in a place where you both got your own rooms and a private bathroom.

Thus, your routine consisted of lectures, homework, your part-time job, and sleep. It was quiet and comfortable. Not that you were opposed to a night out and getting drunk off your ass every once in a while but being a party girl didn't seem like your cup of tea to do every weekend.

"Sorry, ___ it's Jake. I don't know where Jay is, he just left his phone with me earlier," Jake speaks into the phone, making his way out of the booming house to better hear her. The muffled music and loud voices heard from his end causing a slight panic to rise in your stomach but also nearly face palm. It's a Friday night, of course he was partying.

You rake your brain to put a face to the name. You've met Jay's frat friends on occasion, though they mostly consisted of when you were all drunk so it was sort of a blur.

"Yeah I'm at Target," You nod, specifying your location and hoping that whoever Jake was, he was sober enough to comprehend that something was wrong and that he'd remember your words. "Do you want anything else specifically?" From the corner of your eye, you can see the man beginning to pace, seemingly growing antsy with waiting on you to move. Deciding it was best to make your way toward the front where more workers would be, you completely disregard your near empty cart and pushed it along while holding your phone to your ear.

"... Are you okay?" Jake inquires, his brows burrowed together in confusion but feeling the underlying feeling of the call. The only reason he answered was because he knew you and Jay were close, having met less than a handful of times but the contact picture Jay saved you under allowed him to remember who you were. The three spammed messages you sent prior to your call being unable to be read due to his phone being locked. He intended to only inform you of the reason the said boy wouldn't respond for a while but it ended up to this rather weird conversation.

"Uh... no I don't think so," You answer, acting as if you were responding to a question. Jake straightens up slightly, unaware if that was an actual answer or if you were still on the one sided random talk through the phone. He sort of hoped it was the second option for your sake. "Okay I'll look. I'm sure they have pineapple,"

Jay was an overprotective guy, especially when it came to those he cared about. Early on, whenever they'd go out, he told everyone that their emergency code word was pineapple. Jake, along with the other boys, found it utterly ridiculous and never once had to actually use it but he did remember the word loud and clear even months later. The conversation was far too random and specific for you to just casually be saying that, and thus Jake assumed the safe word was something Jay used universally.

"You're at the store in town right?" He asks, now heading back into the house, weaving his way through the bodies in search of his friends.

"Yeah," You nod disregarding that he couldn't see it. There was two Targets in the area you lived it, though one was undeniably farther away from the University. In town referred to the one you stood in, absentmindedly staring at the electronics assuming there had to be more cameras in this area. "Okay, well, I'll be home soon then,"

"Give me ten minutes," Jake said into the phone before handing up the call, not giving you time to respond. Scrunching up your nose, you felt significantly smaller without the comfort of another voice on the other line. From the opposite isle, you could see the man lingering around the corner, now staring directly at you but quickly looking away upon making eye contact.

With a slight pit in your stomach, you take a second to breathe. Attempting to seem inconspicuous, you glance over your items and visibly pale. The only things consisted of body wash, a bag of lemons, and ice cream bars that were now melting. You had circled the food department a near three times and hadn't picked up much even though you made it rather clear on the call you were meant to be getting dinner. Silently praying that the man wasn't keen enough to pay that much attention, you shake off the shiver that ran down your spine.

Meanwhile, Jake ran through the house collecting his friends one by one. Luckily, with it being only 7:30 and rather early in the night, no one was near hammered yet, barely started on a buzz when he interrupted. Not much was shared in the process, the urgent way Jake pulled them along was enough for them to follow but Heeseung finally questioned it once they were packed in the car driving away from their own party.

"Where we going man?" The eldest asked, running a hand through his hair lazily.

Jake, being the only one with less than half a bottle of beer in, was in the driver seat. He drove fast, weaving through the lanes occasionally but still safe enough to not seem suspicious.

He glanced back at Jay through the rearview mirror, said boy tilting his head back in confusion. "___ called you, she's having an issue. Said something about pineapple and wasn't having an actual conversation with me so I'm assuming someone was following her,"

Jay straightened up, leaning closer from his seat while the other two spared glances. "When?"

"Right before I went to find you, told her to give me 10 minutes," Jake answers, partially relieved that Jay seemed concerned by the matter meaning he interpreted the call correctly but that only meant you were actually in trouble. "It's been 6,"

"Drive faster," Was all the other boy said, the few shots of liquor seemingly gone as he sobered up almost instantly. Though, the panic and overwhelming anger that brewed in the back of his head indicated that he was being influenced by the intoxication. Not that it would be a problem, especially if you were in danger of some sort.

Heeseung and Sunghoon sat quietly as Jake drove, connecting the dots for themselves due to the conversation. A minute later, the four were barreling out of the car and into the building. The bright lights contrasted against the dark outside, the boys looking around for sight of the girl.

"Give me my phone," Jay tells Jake, holding out his hand expectantly while he pulls it out of his back pocket. Tapping through the screen for a moment, Jay hold up the device to his ear waiting for you to answer but it goes to voicemail.

"She was talking about food so maybe she was over there?" Jake offers, leading the way toward the back of the store which held all the groceries.

Jay tries once more, holding the phone up as it dials. This time, there's the faint chime of an incoming call that was further away. Sunghoon nodded in the direction it came from, heading toward the area which consisted of books, music, and other miscellaneous things.

"No, thank you, I'm alright," Your voice was recognized first by Jay. Speeding up his steps, he rounds the corner to see you backed away toward the far end of the isle, the cart in between you and an unfamiliar man who had his back toward the four. Your eyes widened seeing the familiar face, slightly relieved but still in a sense of panic considering the man that was following you grew the courage a minute ago to actually say something now, keeping you tucked away in the corner as he did.

Attempting to step away, you shift to the right but the man matched your movement, staying directly in your path and blocking it. Moving to your left, he matched that as well causing you to purse your lips. He smiled, seeming as if it were amusing to see you becoming undone with his actions which sent a chill up your spine. Aside from his creepy stalking, he seemed and looked like a regular guy, which made it even worse because of how normal he seemed upon first glance.

"Teenie," Jay spoke up, making his and the rest of their presence known, using a nickname rather than your actual one. The guy turned at the sound, his face morphing from the smile into one of annoyance, a clear grimace on his features at the interruption. "Come here," The space between where you stood and Jay was a couple of feet, having to go around the man in the process as he had backed you into the wall moments ago.

Expecting for him to allow you to move without resistance this time, you go to step around him but he still continues to block your way. Going as far as grabbing hold of your arm causing your eyes to widen and pull back instantly. The anxiety that grew in your stomach elevated significantly, it was wishful thinking that having four grown and tall men would have the single one back down but it seemed he was crazy enough to not care about that.

"Stop being a fucking creep dude," Heeseung spoke up, growing rather frustrated and particularly peeved that he had the audacity to grab you. If they hadn't shown up he couldn't imagine what he'd attempt.

"We're not done talking," The man sneers, the tone of his voice causing the hairs on your neck to stand up, goosebumps forming along your skin though your body felt like it was burning up inside. "You the boyfriend?" He adds, nodding toward Jay who faltered, confused by the sudden question.

Jake lets out a small sigh, growing tired of the back and forth. Stepping forward, he holds out his hand to you without a word. Now a mere foot apart, he stares down the guy, almost taunting him in attempt to do something. Quickly, your hand latches onto his, albeit clammy from your nervousness but as he pulled you into his side, you felt significantly safer than before.

Tucking you behind him, Jake walks you both back a few steps, returning to the rest who had moved up closer. Still holding tight onto Jake's hand, you grasp onto his arm as well, holding it as if it were a security blanket and would make everything better.

"I am," Jake answers, taking the rest of you by surprise. His fib was believable, you clinging to his side playing the part and the boys merely went along with it. "We done here?"

The man didn't say a word, the silent stare down that occurred between Jake and him more than enough. Finally, he looked away, accepting there wasn't anything he could do to win in this. Whatever that was. Turning around, Jake began to lead you away, not bothering to look back as the other three followed behind, ensuring he stayed in place as they went.

You let out a shakey sigh, deeming it far enough away as you could see the exit. Feeling the ever-growing tears weld in your eyes, a few began to slip from the corners painting soft streaks down the apples of your cheeks. Silently, Jake allowed for Jay to pull you into his embrace, presuming having the one you were closest with to comfort you would be best.

A quiet sob slipped past your lips upon being wrapped into his arms. Jay let out a small shush, one of his hands rubbing small circles with his thumb against your back, visibly upset by how affected you were as he tucked his head down toward your ear, whispering words of reassurance that everything was okay and nothing would happen.

Heeseung tapped Jake's shoulder, nodding him along to give the two of you a minimal amount of space but also linger close enough in case the crazed man decided to have second thoughts and come back. Meanwhile, Sunghoon had made his way over to one of the cashiers, explaining the situation and how the female staff should be cautious until security had eyes on the man.

Jake glanced over as Jay had pulled back from the hug, his hands on either side of your face as he wiped away the tears that kept falling from your eyes. His heart tugged at the sight of you, looking utterly disheartened with a slightly red nose and your mascara beginning to smudge.

He's glad he answered.

#jake #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enhypen #jaeyun x reader #enhypen jake #smut #jaeyun smut #IM SO EXCITED THIS IS FUN

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secretkittywolf · 4 months

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High Life

Thank you @pokewatcher20 for allowing me to make this!

Prologue

18 players spawned around a fountain. Some new faces, some old but everyone has no clue on what's in store for this new series. An avian with parrot wings steps forward with a smirk. "Welcome to High Life. Unlike before, this season is in a city. There are 18 penthouses, one for each of you. You will be randomly assigned a character backstory and a motive to kill. No one is allowed to know your motive, but you must use your backstory to craft a character. I would also like to welcome Doc to the Life Series" The goat, cyborg, creeper hybrid waves. "I have heard about this and have asked Grian to join for this season. I wanted to join Secret Life, but I was busy on Hermitcraft, so I couldn't join you all"

"Now this time, there is no 3-heart rule" Loud complaints can be heard as Grian raises his hand for silence. "This time is just one. One life. One chance to win. There is also the removed heal feature like Secret Life. You lose a heart, but it'll be reset at the end of each session. But there are some added stuff too. The building behind me is known as " The Tower" and it'll open during the final hour of each week where everyone can join. If you do not kill during the fourth and fifth week, you will die instead. There are not only custom outfits for everyone, but as well as some new weapons" The avian pulls out a pistol as murmers of excitement begin to grow. "Yes. We've added guns to this season as it'll fit with the theme. Now, everyone scatter, find a penthouse and await your backstory. Good luck!" Everyone runs off in different directions, looking out for a building with a penthouse they can claim.

I hope you like this so far! The original idea behind this is by @pokewatcher20 over on @bad-traffic-smp-ideas and I was instantly hooked. The next few will be on the different allies and backstories. Sessions are weeks in this fic.

The characters in this are:

Scott Skizz Cleo Etho Martyn Pearl Ren Gem Jimmy Tango Impulse Doc Mumbo Grian Scar

Bdubs

Joel

Lizzie

(I forgot BigB on accident. Sorry!)

I will be uploading this fanfic onto Ao3, but it may take a while and it's gonna be on here as well. Will add the link to Ao3 when it's ready!

There's a new High Life tag!!!!! I'll be using it for uploads {added 17th Jan 2024}

The ao3 version!!!!

Thank you @animalgobrrr for doing this for me! Will be still putting updates on here so my friend can add them to ao3

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random-thot-generator · 5 months

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Dirty Little Secret + pt. 3

JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH x FEM READER

Summary: Johnny shows up out of the blue and gets to meet Aunt Rue. Cue the impromptu come-to-Jesus meeting.

Warnings/Tags: Angst - obviously, Profanity, Sex is mentioned but nothing explicit, Soap's POV, Rue's POV, Reader is taking a moment, Aunt Rue's a good mum, No use of Y/N

(Notes: Again, no smut. We're not there yet, folks. Wanted to get Johnny's side of the story out there, along with Aunt Rue's thoughts on the matter. Just a warning. Edited this to Kickstart My Heart on loop, so if there's a shit-ton of mistakes... my bad. 🤷‍♀️)

Word Count: 2K

Johnny felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when he heard your voice behind the counter, but when you suddenly popped into view, it almost brought him to his knees. The only thing that kept him from reaching for you was that horrible, devastated expression on your face. Tucking his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking, he took a hesitant step towards the counter, as if approaching a cornered, wild animal.

"I'm no' here t'cause ye grief, hen," he murmured, trying to make eye contact. "I jus' wanted t'see ya."

You blinked up at him, huffing a breath out of your open mouth. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again," you confessed, sounding dazed. "How did you…?"

Johnny scratched the back of his neck, feeling like a bit of a creeper. "I, uh… I saw ye on the news. Some sort o' festival 'r somethin'."

"The May Day celebration," you mumbled, remembering the news cameraman panning his camera along the row of booths on the boardwalk. "Bloody hell. So… you saw me and just decided to stop by for a visit? After six months?"

Johnny's look turned sour. "It was no' like I knew where the hell ye'd gone off to, now was it? Ye jus' took off without sayin' a bloody word," he replied, his tone low and accusing.

You scoffed, your own expression growing dark. "And how could I have told you, Johnny? It's not like you ever bothered to give me your number, remember?" you fired back.

The bitterness in your tone cooled his anger instantly. "I…" He huffed out a breath, shoulders slumping. "Yer right. Tha's on me." His contrite expression returned. "It was jus' a shock, comin' back an' findin' ya gone, yer flat empty. I was no' expectin' it. Not after…" He blew out a breath, running his hand over his mohawk. "I dinnae ken wha' t'think."

You crossed your arms over your chest, lips trembling. "I'm surprised you thought of me at all. Why did you even go back to my flat? Things not work out with your other bird?"

"Other bird?" he repeated, scowling, looking utterly confused.

Before you could clarify, your aunt pushed through the swinging door from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. Whatever she was about to say died on her lips as her eyes darted between you and Johnny. "Everything alright, love?" she asked you.

"Everything's fine." You dragged your eyes away from him to address your aunt, your tone softening. "I'm sorry 'bout your tea. The box was empty, and then he showed up, and…" You sighed, closing your eyes, shoulders dropping in defeat. "I— I need to go back to the stockroom. Maybe there's another box of oolong back there."

Picking up on the obvious tension and your need to escape the young man, Aunt Rue patted your arm affectionately. "'Course, love. Go ahead. I'll see t'him."

You gave a slight nod, eyes slanting towards Johnny for only a second, but then your chin gave a wobble, and you rushed through the swinging door. He called after you, taking an unconscious step forward, hand reaching out, but you didn't stop. A pained expression crossed his face before he turned and paced a few steps away, raising both hands to rub over his head, holding them there as he blew out a frustrated breath.

Rue pursed her lips, studying him before her eyes cut back to the kitchen door. "So, I take it ya know one another," she drawled.

Johnny turned back around, dropping his arms to his sides. He looked like a whipped pup. "Yes, ma'am. We were… She was my…" A myriad of emotions played over his face before he sighed, remorse evident in his eyes. "Aye. We know each other."

Rue smirked, brows lifting. "I see." She turned to the hot water urns and grabbed a couple of to-go cups. "Tea or coffee, lad?"

Johnny blew out a frustrated sigh. "Dinnae bother, ma'am. I should prob'ly jus' go. Sorry t'have bothered—"

Rue snorted, amused. "Ya ain't gettin' off that easy, lad. Been dealin' with that heartbroken lass for six months. I've got questions, an' you're just the one to answer 'em. So. Tea or coffee?"

Johnny opened his mouth to refuse but didn't have it in him to argue. "Coffee, please. Black with sugar," he mumbled.

Rue hummed in acknowledgment, making them both a strong cup, forgetting about the oolong. She needed all cylinders firing for this one. As she worked, Red finally showed, cheerful as always. He gave Johnny a friendly nod, opening his mouth to greet Rue, but she cut him off.

"No time for chit-chat this mornin', Red," she told him, throwing a couple of rolls into a bag and handing them over. She reached beneath the counter and grabbed his favorite jam packets, then rounded the counter to hand them to him. "On the house, yeah?" she said, ignoring his shocked expression. "Off ya go, then. See ya tomorrow."

Red could do little more than nod as Rue herded him out the door, casting a flummoxed look back as she shut the door and locked it behind him. Reaching for the cups she left sitting on the counter, she handed one to Johnny.

"C'mon, lad. Let's go out back an' have ourselves a wee chinwag."

She led the way to the back exit, checking to be sure you were still inside before motioning him out the door. Walking over to a pair of metal folding chairs leaned against the wall, she grabbed one, nodding for Johnny to take the other, then sat down with a tired sigh. Once, they were both seated, she crossed her legs and looked him over with a critical eye.

"Alright, then. First things first, lad. I'm Rue, her aunt, and you are…"

"John, ma'am. John MacTavish, but ye can call me Johnny."

She nodded, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "Well, it's nice t'meet ya, Johnny." She took a quick sip of coffee and smacked her lips. "Now, let's get down t'brass tacks, shall we?" She sat back and crossed her arms over her lap. "I'm goin' to take a wild guess an' say you're the reason why my girl came runnin' home with her tail between her legs. Not seen her in that bad a shape since her da dumped her on my doorstep, so it must have been serious. How long were ya together?"

Taken aback, it took a moment for Johnny to answer. "I been seein' her fer almost two years, but we were no'… I mean, it wasnae…" He huffed a frustrated breath and scrubbed his hand over his 'hawk. "It's— It's complicated."

Rue rolled her eyes, making a scoffing noise. "Bloody hell, this generation, I swear…" She shook her head. "Just say ya were fuckin', lad. Jesus." She scoffed again. "Complicated, he says…" she muttered.

Johnny gaped at her, surprised by her blunt words. His brows furrowed, an embarrassed look on his reddening face. "It was no' jus' fuckin'," he muttered, sounding defensive. "I cared 'bout her— do care 'bout her."

"Uh-huh. So, what happened, then? What would send my girl runnin' back to the one place she worked so hard to escape, hm?"

His lips parted, but he didn't have an answer. Eyes darting back and forth, he searched for an explanation, a reason why you would just up and leave him without saying anything. He thought it might have been another bloke, but after that last night together, he couldn't bring himself to believe it. So, why? Why did you leave? He had been searching for that answer for the last six months. Finally, he settled for repeating your confusing words from earlier. "She said somethin' 'bout another bird," he said glumly. "Dunno wha' the hell she's talkin' 'bout."

Rue's brows ticked up. "Sure about that? You're a handsome lad. Doubt ya have trouble pullin' the birds."

"No!" he snapped. "I'd never che—." He cut himself off, gritting his teeth in frustration. "There was no other bird," he grumbled out.

His hand clenched into a fist, the other warping the to-go cup, some of the hot brew spilling over his knuckles. Cursing under his breath, he set it on the ground, slinging the hot liquid off his hand. He glared at the back of his hand, then huffed a tired breath, his expression softening. "I dinnae want anyone else. Jus' her." He shook his head, looking lost.

Rue studied him, her head tilting to the side. "She never mentioned you, ya know? Never once spoke your name. I knew she was hurtin'— obviously, but there was somethin' about the way she looked when I'd try to bring it up, like she was... ashamed. 'Course, we've all been fools for love, so I figured some bloke had filled her head with a bunch of pretty words, promisin' her the moon an' stars, then broke her heart, but…" Her eyes narrowed. "Explain to me what 'complicated' means."

A look akin to the shamed face you would always give her now came over his. He started picking at one of his cuticles, studying it with keen interest, his bottom lip jutting out a little.

"When we first started hookin' up, it wasnae a big deal. We'd run into each other at the pub an' end up back at her place." He shrugged but then paused, his eyes growing solemn. "But then, somethin' changed. I'd catch m'self thinkin' 'bout her, like all the bloody time, while I was deployed. Then I'd come home an' find m'self goin' back t'tha' same damn pub, hopin' t'see her, gettin' pissed when she was no' there." He sighed, shook his head. "I finally gave up pretendin' it was jus' a hook up, an' started goin' over t'her place when I was on leave."

"So, you're a soldier, then," Rue said softly.

A grim look pulled the corners of his mouth down. "Aye. A sergeant in the Army. Special forces." He frowned, an inner struggle going on inside his head. "I ken 's no' the best job t'have, no' when ya got a lass waitin' fer ya at home. 'S hard t'make it work, bein' gone so much. Most birds canna hack it, end up callin' it quits. Figured I'd come home one day an' she'd be shacked up wi' some other bloke. Thought that might'a been wha' happened, but... I had t'see fer m'self." A sad expression made his eyes look luminous in the morning sun. "Tol' m'self I should leave her be, let 'er go, but I canna do it."

He sighed, leaned back in his chair and scrubbed at the scruff on his cheek. "I never tol' her how I felt, dinnae think it was fair puttin' tha' on her. Tried no' t'crowd her, dinnae hang about her place, makin' a nuisance o' m'self. Thought I was protectin' her, but it was jus' as much fer me, I guess. Dinnae help."

Rue's heart went out to the poor lad, despite how bloody stupid he was. "Could ya not tell that she loved ya, lad?"

Johnny's brows shot up, his mouth falling open. "She… She loves me?"

Rue sniffed a laugh. "Bloody hell, you really are an eejit, aren't ya?" She shook her head, amazed at how clueless he was. "'Course she loves ya, ya daft numpty." Her eyes grew shrewd as she watched him process the revelation, saw the hope bloom in his eyes.

"So, tell me, Johnny boy. What are ya willin' to do to get her back?"

part 2 part 4

#john soap mactavish #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x fem reader #cod soap x reader #cod soap x fem reader #cod soap #cod soap mactavish

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redlegumes · 5 months

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Dec 4th: There can only be one Santa driving a DeLorean

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles

Summary: Steve's the new hire at the garage and once Eddie finally meets him (the day of the holiday party) he can't stop flirting.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ō͡≡o₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Eddie was in early. He’d forgotten to finish an alignment, and he knew Mrs. Teitler would be in as early as possible to pick up her Corvette. The old bat was crazy but punctual.

He handled most of the specialty work on Chevys that came into the shop and paint jobs, but it seemed like the garage kept growing. Eddie wasn’t too surprised. Everyone needed a reliable mechanic in Indianapolis, and Rick’s Place had earned their great reputation in car care. That was the main reason why he figured he hadn’t run into the newest hire before. Now here he was, in the garage at six am, tooling around on some German-made automobile.

Rick had hired the guy to handle imports specifically, and if the tales around the coffee pot were true, ‘Steve’ left a pretty sweet gig to be a grease monkey. The guys said he’d worked at some big company downtown that his father ran, but he hated it so he quit. Whelp, gotta stop knowing him just through rumors, Eddie thought, walking over to the bay Steve was working in. As he came closer he saw a small radio set up, playing a Christmas station.

Continues after the cut

“Trying to get into the spirit for tonight? It’s not quite as formal as I assume an office Christmas party might be.” Eddie chuckled as he heard a muffled ‘ow’ from under the chassis. “Whoops. Sorry if I spooked you.”

A stupidly attractive man rolled out from under the Porsche. Lustrous brown hair, light brown eyes, a light tan, and sweet pink lips that had to get him attention everywhere he took them. Eddie fought to stop from quickly inhaling his next breath after the reveal. Steve was the handsome Eddie normally avoided because of the ego that often came with it.

Steve rubbed a redding spot on his forehead and frowned. “Not your fault. I haven’t done that in ages. Try not to.” His eyes focused on Eddie before widening slightly.

Eddie’s heart rate sped up as he saw Steve’s cheeks turn a light pink. ‘Cause he’s embarrassed… right?

“I, uh, used to play a few sports, and it’s a bit of a priority for me not to get any more concussions.”

“Oh my God.” I’m a complete ass. “Are you sure you're okay?” Eddie bent down and offered a hand to help Steve off the creeper, hoping his own blush was under control as Steve took it.

“Yeah. I’d know,” Steve replied, shooting him a wry smile. Steve also squeezed Eddie’s hand before letting it go.

Squeeze of thanks, or? Shit… I wanna read into that so bad. Eddie bit his lower lip. He’d just met this guy and he was already trying to see if he was sending him signals. Eddie promised himself he wouldn’t harbor same sex crushes anymore. His heart couldn’t take another incident where drawn out pining eventually ended when he learned the other guy was straight.

“Mandatory office holiday parties are the worst. Office politics plus liquor. I'm glad tonight is just a festive drop in thing at Alexei’s after work.”

“So you’re better at casual get togethers,” Eddie said before he could stop himself. Did I wink at him? Christ.

Steve chuckled. “I prefer longer engagements, with the right people.”

The smiling eye contact Steve paired with the statement sent Eddie reeling. He knew he should cool off, run. Steve was a brand new coworker, but the possibility that Steve was flirting back had Eddie leaning in.

“I’m Eddie Munson. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself sooner.”

Steve took the hand and gave it a quick shake but didn’t let go. “I know, saw your picture with Rick in the hall. I'm Steve.”

Eddie’s mouth went dry and his eyes briefly panned down Steve’s body. I bet he’s built. His eyes stopped on the way back up at Steve’s neckline. Oh hell no.

Just like the poor filter from his brain to his mouth Eddie had a similar problem stopping his hand from dropping Steve’s, reaching up, and zipping down his coveralls. “You can't wear that,” Eddie said, whinier than he’d wanted to.

“Wha- What?” Steve’s face was completely flushed now.

Without pause Eddie pulled the zipper down from his coveralls. He was wearing a Christmas sweater that depicted Santa, riding through the skies in a DeLorean. So was Steve.

“I- oh, Oh!” Steve doubled over laughing; it was infectious.

When Eddie stopped laughing he tugged on one of Steve’s sweater sleeves. “Where’d you even get that? I found mine in this weird novelty shop across from the ga… bar, the bar I regularly go to.”

“Early Christmas gift. My best friend and I saw it in a store window and it uh, reminded her of some stuff from when we were teens.”

“Well, one of us will have to change. Otherwise we’ll be the butt of every joke tonight.” Briefly Eddie thought about smearing Steve with some grease in the garage, or spilling coffee on him. But the fondness the guy spoke with when he mentioned his friend buying it for him halted those plans. “I mean, I’ve probably got something else out in my van I could throw on. Just won’t be as ‘festive,’” he added, wriggling his fingers as he said it.

“I wouldn’t mind matching with you, but if you say you need to take it off…” Steve cocked his head to the side, staring straight into Eddie’s eyes. There was no mistaking it now. Steve, the new hire, was flirting with him. “Do you think you need an extra hand?”

“Changing?” Eddie swallowed audibly.

“Mmmhmm. If you’ve got time, I mean you must’ve come in early to finish something?” Steve's coy smile waned and his brow furrowed slightly with concern that he was about to derail Eddie’s morning plans. In all reality, Steve might have derailed Eddie’s plans for the rest of the year. Mrs. Teitler could wait.

“Stevie, I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”

2023 RedLegumes Steddiemas 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 SteddieHolidayDrabbles 1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #i write things #holiday drabbles #ficlet #steddie ficlet #meet cute #mechanic au #and then they bone in the van #and fall in love #and wear matching sweaters every year #and live happily ever after

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mistyresolve · 1 year

Note

if it's not too much, I was wondering how task 141 + König would react to finding y/n jamming out to this 80s song called Erotic City. it's absolutely foul but such a good song

Word Count - 1.9k

Tags/Warnings - mostly just nonsense with some allusions to the dirty

A/N - yes yes yes, this was so much fun and thank you for allowing me the honour! and nothing is ever too much when it comes to these boys. Although I'm nervous about Gaz and Alejandro bc I've never written anything for them before and I feel like I can't do those two justice. I hope I'm listening to the right song by Prince and i hope this is what you were looking for 🤍

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The 141

Ghost

You were the camp's armour and you spent a lot of your time alone. So your radio was constantly on. You had very few channels but the 80s on 8 always had the best music.

Ghost could hear the music through the open door, but couldn’t make out the lyric yet. Although it sounded vaguely familiar to him. He was coming to drop off his firearms and get them serviced. He did most maintenance himself but would come to you every couple of weeks for a thorough cleaning.

More often than not he would walk in on you singing along, bobbing your head or tapping your foot along with the radio, but this time you were full-on dancing. The type of dancing people save for when at the nightclub and when drunk.

He would knock once but you wouldn’t be able to hear him. So he would stand and wait for you to notice him in the doorway. A smile tugged at one side of his mouth. Not out of mockery but because he was genuinely impressed with your rhythm.

He would shamelessly admire your hips and ass, remembering how they felt under his fingertips a couple of nights before. If he had known you could move like that he would have had you on top of his rather than beneath him. Next time.

When you finally turn around and make eye contact with him you jump back into the table behind you. Containers sloshing with oils, and metal brushes knocking off the side.

“Jesus!” you would rub at your side and the bruise that would soon form there, “Little creeper.”

You would use the little remote to turn down your radio after clearing your throat.

He would turn over his gear, and raise his hands in fake surrender, “I knocked,” he teases, jerking his chin towards you, “but you didn’t hear me.”

“Just give me your gun and get out of here,” you weren’t one to get embarrassed but he couldn’t have caught you at a worse time. And it was him of all people.

Soap

You were in the bathroom, getting ready to go out for dinner with your co-workers when this song came on. He knows the lyric and you can’t change my mind.

Soap was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you to finish up in the bathroom and just when he started to question how long it was taking you, he heard the volume of the music increase. And judging by the type of song it was he already knew what he would expect when he poked his head into the bathroom.

He’d be horribly off-tune but completely on-beat and he would match your energy. He would let you be the lead because he knows he wouldn’t be able to decide whether he would want to feel you dancing on him or watch you dance to the song.

That is until you guide him back towards the mirror so you can resume getting ready while continuing on with the dancing. This way he can both see you in the reflection of the mirror and still have his hands all over you.

He loved being near you, loved being able to feel your body heat and smell your fresh-out-of-the-shower scent. The one that smelt like lavender soap.

He loved it when you played him like a violin to get what you wanted from him, and he didn’t care that you did it. He was aware the entire time and let you take advantage of him anyways.

He knew you didn’t want to go to the dinner, but he also knew you didn’t want to be the reason you guys never made it out the door. You were the instigator and he would be the initiator.

“I know what you're doing,” he sing-songed into your ear from behind, dragging his nose up the length of your neck, “and as much as I too would like to stay…we did skip the last dinner and it would be poor manners to skip another.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Oh lass, I’m fun,” he backed away, “all I said was that we couldn't skip. I never said we couldn’t be late.”

Price

The smell of bacon and eggs wafted from the kitchen, dragging Price from sleep and then the bed. He noticed your side of the bed was empty. The pillows that had been thrown off the bed last night were now neatly piled on the bed.

Next, he would follow the funky pumping music, the sun was already risen and lit up the hallways to the kitchen and living room. He watched as your shadow slid from one side of the counter to the other.

You were never up before him and you were far from a morning person. Yet he was watching you working away at the stove, wearing his white button-down from the date night before, and he decided it was a crime to cut the fun short.

You heard him come down the hallway and when he turned the corner you dragged your fingers up your body, catching the fabric and dragging it up with your fingers. Revealing nothing but promising everything.

He took a seat at the island, folding his arms across his chest and continued to watch. His soft eyes followed and cataloged every twist and bend of your bare legs. Lingering on the silhouette of your body through the shirt as the sunlight passes through it.

“You’re makin’ me breakfast? At seven am? What did I do to deserve this?” he tosses you a sleepy smile from behind the cup of coffee you just poured him. Black and as strong as you could make it. He preferred the bitterness.

“You took such great care of me last night, seems only fair I return the favour,” you poured yourself a cup of hot water for yourself, preparing it for a tea bag.

Confidence bloomed in his chest. That I did. He thought to himself.

“Carry on, Dancing Queen,” you did as he asked but not without a quick kiss.

Alejandro

You were picking him up on base and it was normal for you to pull up with loud music but the last thing he expected when he opened the passenger door was “Erotic City” by Prince to be absolutely blaring.

Each time he called you for a ride he told himself it was the last time. He debates the repercussion should he decide to walk the rest of the way to HQ rather than get in the car with you.

Your sunglasses hanging on the tip of your nose and your eyes peeked out from the top, and you would immediately point at him, an invitation to join in on the festivities.

He would immediately decline with a firm shake of his head. He knows the song but refuses to take part in the antics. He will be staring out the window until the song ends.

He gets even more annoyed when you roll down the windows, slow down the car by 5 and turn the music even louder. He isn’t sure if he wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all or if he wants to rip the stereo out of the dash.

He wasn’t moody or angry but he had a reputation to uphold and you revelled in making it just that much harder for him. He wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of you knowing that you get under his skin.

He could still you out of the corner of his eye, watching as even though you were restrained by the seat belt you still grooved. He felt your fingers poke his shoulder, taunting him.

He didn’t even wait for you to fully put the car in park before he was hopping out, slamming the door behind him, “Get your ass out of here,” he jabbed an accusatory finger at you as he passed the front of the vehicle.

He could see the shit-eating grin from behind the windshield, and he couldn’t help the matching smile from spreading across his face. He shook his head and that finger switched to the middle one as he walked into a building.

Gaz

He would be coming back into the bar from getting some fresh air and when he walks in he is met with you pulling people onto the floor. The night was getting older and still no one had taken the leap so you took matters into your own hands.

This man wouldn’t skip a beat and would cheer you on. He would be cheering the loudest and would hype you up like no one else could. His energy would be infectious and the rest of the bar would follow suit.

He wouldn’t jump into the fray immediately, he would be content just sitting and watching while you work the bar. Elbowing the men around him and pointing to you, “That one’s mine,” he would announce proudly with a boyish grin.

All you would have to do is look for him (not even look at him, just the act of you looking for him would drive him crazy) and he would find his way onto the dance floor to join you.

His mom forced him to take a dance class in high school as an elective so this man can move. He would lead obviously, but he would keep to the genre of dancing you were doing before he joined. He would make sure you were comfortable and happy the entire time.

The two of you would stay on the dance floor for the next few songs. Till you are both sweaty and out of breath. Till your both giggle as you guys make your way to the bar for another drink.

+ Konig

At first, he would be completely content just watching you while leaning on the door frame. His arms crossed, biceps stretching the fabric of his shirt (he was doing this on purpose bc he knows you like it), and a wide toothy smile paired with the always there mischievous glint in his eyes.

You had come into the kitchen to clean and put stuff away but your soundtrack was coming out with banger after banger.

He always enjoyed watching you be carefree and encouraged it. In fact, he lived vicariously through your devil-may-care attitude. He wanted so badly to join you in these situations, but the fear of watchful eyes kept his feet firmly planted by the entrance.

He may understand English, but when it came to music he listened to the beat and melody more so than the contents. So when he caught a few choice words he tuned his ears in.

His eyes drop to your mouth and he begins to decipher the actual lyric. Reading your lips to aid him. His smile gives way into a confused frown, his eyes flicking to the speaker bumping the music into the room. His blue eyes would narrow, and his brows would knit together.

Next would be the rouge that creeps up from beneath his shirt to the tips of his ears.

Oh. Ohhh.

“Mein Gott, I have to go,” He would attempt to vacate the area as soon as possible. You’ve already taken note of his change and immediately grab at his arms. Wrapping your warm body around it and guiding him back into the room, sitting him down on one of the kitchen table chairs.

“Just enjoy the show,” you roam cheeky hands across and down his chest.

Maybe it was the fumes from the cleaning supplied or the music was influencing him but he obediently leaned back into the chair, spreading his legs to allow you more room.

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A/N - sorry, i was gone for a little while i had a wee health scare 😗

Tag List: @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎ @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @dog55teeth ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes

#cod fanfic #mw2022 #mw2 x reader #call of duty #task force 141 #konig #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #soap mctavish #john soap mactavish #captian price #john price #konig mw2 #cod headcanons #call of duty headcanons #task force 141 headcanons #alejandro vargas #kyle gaz garrick #MistyGhosties

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bullet-prooflove · 6 months

Text

TheWall! Series Part One: Poker Night - Bishop Losa x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @wakeama @fanfic-n-tabulous @dreamlandcreations @anime-weeb-4-life @keyweegirlie @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @the-wandering-lunatic @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @multifandomloversworld @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @purrrrfect @adaydreamaway08 @stressed-chas @spookyboogyuniverse @librarian1002 @msjava1972 @thanossexual @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @nessamc @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @justreblogginfics @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @trublu2u @irishavengersassemble @fanfic-n-tabulous

Companion Series to:

Complicated - Bishop already knows your secret.

The Wall - Bishop comes home to find you covered in blood.

It’s poker night at Vicki’s.

Bishop thinks it’s going to be quiet. A couple of drinks, a few rounds of cards while the rest of the guys blow off a little bit of steam. It’s more toned down than it used to be now that most of them have coupled up, but they’ve got a few guys up from Yuma who were looking for a specific form of entertainment and Vicki’s happy to oblige.

Bishop’s playing out the best hand of his life when they hear the gun shots. He knows the sound of a high calibre, long range weapon when he hears it. Despite your best efforts the Reed Coalition are still hunting down immigrants. He knows you’re not out there tonight. You’re meeting with the accountant to discuss the community centre’s finances. Still hearing those gun shots, it puts the shits up him. They were close, too close he thinks.

It's the flash of headlights that makes his heart sink, the sound of wheels spinning out on gravel. Creeper slides the curtain back and Bishop sees the colour drain out of his face before an expletive leaves his mouth. He’s on his feet as the door is thrown open.

It’s you that Riz is carrying, you who’s bleeding out in the other man’s arms. Drops of blood trail down your limp wrist, pattering onto the hard wood floor. Bishop knows that he’ll hear that sound in his fucking dreams.

Coco uses his arm to sweep the cards and poker chips from the table, the plastic disks scatter across the floor, rolling under chairs that are being shifted to make way for the causality. Riz is careful as he lays you down, Bishop takes in the sight of him as Gilly assists. Theres’s glass in his hair, miniscule shards glittering in the warm glow from the lights above. Streaks of crimson run down the left side of his face in rivets from slices across his forehead, cheek and neck. His shirt is soaked with blood, a mixture of both yours and his.

You’re awake, your hand is pressing Riz’s hoodie against the wound just under your clavicle. Coco covers your palm with his own, taking over the task. Bishop’s hand slips into yours, clasping it tightly, quiet reassurance that he’s there, that you aren’t alone. He feels that relief thundering through his system when you squeeze back. You hiss when Coco removes the hoodie, his features pinched as he tries to assess the wound.

“Stitches is on route, but she's an hour out.” Creeper informs them before Vicki shoves a First Aid kit into his hands and directs him to one of the bedrooms up the stairs. Her attention switches to Riz, guiding him onto one of the barstools as Hank flicks open the clasps of his own First Aid box.

“We need to take you upstairs.” Bishop tells you. “Get you some privacy so that Coco can get a better look at that wound. I’ll follow you up alright?”

You nod, a tear leaking down your cheek that he chases away the calloused pad of his thumb.

“I’m gonna be right here Mi Cielito.” He promises you. “Everything is gonna be ok.”

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narcolini · 1 year

Text

trapped

ezekial ‘ez’ reyes x gn!reader, whump, happy ending, 2627 words

warnings for claustrophobia(?)

for day 11 of whumpril : ‘i’m right here.’

a/n: i always knew this day would come... the solo EZ fic finally beckoned, and i answered. and i promise next time i write him he wont be in mortal danger LMAO

tagging: @drabbles-mc @cositapreciosa @hausofmamadas (let me know if u want to be in any taglists ofc)

Gilly’s barely got the truck in park before you’re flying from the passenger side, door left open behind you. He’d driven far too slow for your liking, so you’re running now, toward the orange-lit yard and the house EZ has passed through a thousand times—with no issue. Until today, of course. And still, Gilly showed no hurry in bringing you here, despite the situation. The very time conscious situation. You’d think, after trying to hide it from you, and then trying to stop you from coming to help, that he’d drive with a bit more pep under his pedals. Use that guilt he’s harbouring, to make amends and get you there fucking faster than the speed limit.

If he did, you’d have time to consider the situation properly. To assess the risk, the likelihood of EZ being in real, serious trouble. As is, you don’t, and your sneakers can’t hit the ground fast enough.

Coco’s the only one you can see, standing by the open garage. Standing, yes, fidgeting, smoking, and doing nothing—like he can afford to do nothing. Like his brother isn’t buried beneath the concrete he’s killing time on.

‘Where is it?’ you blurt, pausing long enough to show him your face. Let him see that it’s you, you’re serious, and stressed out of your mind, so it would be very fucking smart for him to answer without argument. ‘The tunnel?’

‘The fuck…’ His arm falls to his side, cigarette smoke curling back up the length of it. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

‘Hm, I don’t know.’ You line the sarcasm with enough venom to sting. ‘Something about my boyfriend being trapped in a collapsed smuggler’s run?’

He tuts sharply, looking past you to Gilly. ‘You were supposed to keep this shit quiet, bro.’

‘I couldn’t—’

You cut Gilly off, snapping your own voice over his reply, ‘The real question is, why the fuck are you out here and not in there, digging him out?’

It’s behind him, you realise, the opening. A small square cut from the concrete, with a ladder set over the edge it. You don’t have time to debate it, though you could chew Coco out until the sun came up, so you burst past him instead.

‘Keeping watch—hey!’ he shouts after you, sounding as annoyed at you, as you are at him. ‘There’s no fucking space for you, dude. You’re just gonna get in the way.’

It doesn’t matter. If EZ’s stuck in there, you’ll make space. You’ll pick the walls apart with your own hands if you have to.

You take the ladder facing forward, which is a mistake, but you’re too committed to it to turn around now. Your hands grapple at the metal rungs behind, heels slipping every other step. It looked like a bigger height from the top, but the clambering, clumsy approach you’ve taken, makes it feel like two or three foot, max. Gone in a blink, and then you’re underground, at the end of the tunnel with the destruction sitting right there in front of you. And God, it’s as bad as your anxiety had told you it would be.

The air is choked with dust, disturbed dirt from the collapse, you assume, and it’s thick enough to make you cough. To irritate your throat as soon as you take that first breath. It’s even making it hard to see, putting a cloudy filter over the narrow alleyway that you have to squint through. Your arm goes up, forearm shielding your eyes, like that’ll be any help at all.

‘EZ?’

There are figures ahead, that you can make out, two men swinging at the wall where the ceiling caved in. As you get closer, toes catching on the gaps between the plywood walkway, it’s obvious who it is, Angel and Creeper, both working away at the rubble. Creeper’s topless, Angel's sweating through his A-tank, and both have been working long enough to look sick with it. Tired and lagging.

‘Get out the way,’ you bark, pushing between the two. You have to get to him, you have to get close enough to the landslide of mud to see for yourself, to know. To know that he’s…

‘The fuck?’ Angel stumbles back, shovel swinging free from the dent he’s made. ‘No, nah, you can’t be here.’

You flick your gaze back to him, hand flapping behind you. ‘Give me the.’ You swallow, airborne dust drying your tongue and words with it. ‘The thing, the fucking. Give it me.’

‘Are you kidding me?’

Creeper’s still working, chipping away at the dirt with the end of his shotgun. It isn’t efficient, by any means, but it must be all he has. All you have, now. Two dudes with a shotgun and a shovel. One big fucking wall of collapsed earth, with no sign of life on the opposite side.

‘EZ?’ You turn to it, desperate. ‘Ezekiel?’ Your palms smack against it, but all you make is a shallow pathetic slap that has no hope of carrying through. ‘I’m right here,’ you shout, before turning your head to put your ear to the cold of it. ‘Can you hear me?’

Angel answers in his brothers place, ‘You really shouldn’t be in here.’

‘Shut up.’

‘This shit isn’t stable, it could collapse again any fucking—’

‘I said shut up,’ you snap, ‘I’m trying to listen.’

It hums, almost, the dirt against your ear. Echoes like you’ve held a shell to it, and not pounds and pounds of ancient soil.

‘EZ?’

Creeper stops when you call for him this time, giving you the momentary silence you need, because—there, yes—there it is, faint as anything: your name said back to you, muffled but clear enough to be real. EZ, alive, conscious, and talking back. Hope jumps into your chest, right behind the heart. It’s not over yet. He’s in a pocket, somewhere, a gap big enough to survive in.

‘Give me the shovel, Angel.’

You look back when he ignores you, just in time to catch him and Creeper exchanging a look, a pair of expressions that you know to take as a no. Loco, they’re thinking. You’re in over your head.

They set to work again, and you let them, staggering back a couple yards to give them space to swing. You can’t dig any faster or better than they can, determination or not. Even love can’t manage that.

‘Hold on, EZ,’ you tell him, though you’re probably too far away now, and the shirt you’re holding over your mouth, to block the rising dust, is muffling the words. ‘Just, hold on.’

A little longer, and he’ll be out. Just a little longer.

They’re making progress, you can tell, the wall is concave and crumbling now. In fact, your arrival seems to have only made them quicker, more thorough, the dirt coming off in chunks, splitting and shattering by their feet. If they aren’t careful, they might get through so fast that they’re a danger to him. Shovel to the head, shotgun nose to the outstretched arm. He could be anywhere within the collapse, hearing them get closer and closer, unable to speak loud enough to stop them.

You can’t think about that. You can’t think of him in there, under the weight of it all. Chest tight, restricted. Mud in his eyes. Wires and plastic from the overhead lights, all wrapped up on top of him.

You chew your lip to stop it. Teeth through the skin, copper in your mouth. He’s alive and you’ll see him soon enough. He’s alive and you’ll see him—

‘I got something.’ It’s Creeper, loud and certain. ‘Help me clear this shit, man.’

Angel tosses his tool aside, just as Creeper has, choosing to use their hands instead. Dirty and desperate, their knees on the piles of earth they’ve already shifted. It only takes a moment before they’ve cleared enough away that you see it too: black, muddied leather. The white edge of writing.

It’s him.

You can’t give them space after that. You’re in there with them, shoulders bumping, six hands clawing away at the wall until more and more of EZ is revealed. His arm, the blue of his jeans. A bit longer, and you’ve found his head, found the bent metal strip-light that has shielded him from the worst of it. If it wasn’t for that, he’d have no pocket to breathe in, no eyes to blink up at you.

‘Hey,’ you whisper, bending down to put your face next to his. You had imagined saying something useful to him, something reassuring. But when you’re down to the moment of it, all that comes out is that, hey, soft and wavering.

He blinks again, pulling in a wheezing breath as he looks up at you—he hasn’t recognised you yet, you can tell, he’s still catching up on being alive. On having light on his face, and free air to breathe, dusty or not. He’s on his back, lengthways down the tunnel. Not out yet, but Creeper and Angel are working on that, pulling chunks off with clawing fingers.

‘EZ?’ you try, brushing the grit from his eyes, then the corners of his mouth, the angles of his beard. ‘We got you, okay? We’re getting you out.’

He croaks your name, makes the connection at last. Bleary eyes at bleary eyes.

‘Yeah,’ you sniff, fighting tears without realising it, ‘it’s me. I’m here.’

Your hands are shaking as you put your palms to his head—too far gone to try and still them now. What matters, is EZ. His comfort. You want flesh between him and the ground, warmth, not cold roughness, to cradle his head.

‘Just a little bit longer,’ you promise.

His eyes close, but he attempts a nod, moving his chin just enough to be noticeable. The next breath he takes is bookended with a cough, dry and filled with the crap you’re all breathing in.

‘You sure I’m not dead?’ he asks, only audible because your face is so close to his, your hair flopping down onto his forehead.

‘Yeah,’ you laugh, though it’s more of a sob, ‘I’m sure.’

‘Seems like heaven.’ He forces a dry swallow. ‘I see an angel.’

You sniff again, your nose threatening to leak, and brush over his face once more. Gentle, because you’re too scared to break him. ‘You’re choosing now to flirt with me?’ you joke, keeping your voice quiet. ‘You’re ridiculous, EZ.’

He smiles—or at least he tries to, one edge of his mouth twitching upwards.

‘I think that’s that’s good enough,’ Angel says, sitting back on his boots. ‘Think we can pull him out now.’

You nod, shuffling back yourself, though it’s the last thing you want to do. His legs are free enough to wiggle him out without threatening the structure of it all—without crushing the rest of you in the process. So if you have to leave him to do that, let his head sit back in the dirt, just for now, then okay. ‘Okay,’ you tell them. ‘Where should I…?’

Angel’s taking your place at the head of him, forcing his hands beneath EZ’s shoulders. Creeper grabs the leg they’ve dug entirely free, hooking his elbow around his thigh and, well, there isn’t room for you to help at all. So you step back, again, stumbling to your feet so they have space to manoeuvre him.

‘You ready, lil bro?’ Angel asks, panting still, a thick sweat over his brow. ‘In three.’

Creeper nods, and then they pull without waiting for three at all. Probably because they’re just as desperate as you are, now, just as keen to see EZ out and safe again. They’ve been digging so long that there can’t be much energy left in their reserves. It’s now, or never. One tug, two grunts, a catch in the dirt, a tear of EZ’s shirt sleeve, and then it gives. It all gives.

They pull him out of the landslide using their bodies as the counterweight, EZ tugging free and over their laps as they fall backwards from the effort of it. You’re only watching and it’s made your breath heavy, matching the rise and fall of their own chests. They did it. He’s out. Sprawled and painted with dirt, red spotting up his arms from the scratches and nicks he’s collected, but alive. Scooping breaths in like water.

‘God,’ Angel rushes, slapping a palm to EZ’s shoulder, ‘you need to cut some weight, bro.’

‘Yeah,’ Creeper laughs, ‘like moving a fucking bear.’

And then they’re all laughing, even EZ, as weak as it is, panting for air and laughing with the relief of it. Shit, even you’re smiling, and the lump of worry in your throat is still set there like concrete. It’ll stick until you’ve seen him up and walking again.

But they need to catch their breath first, and you can’t carry him alone.

‘D’you think you can stand?’ you ask, looking down at EZ laying over their legs. If he can’t, you’re all in for a struggle, trying to get him up that ladder and through the gap smaller than his shoulders will be near impossible.

EZ nods, taking a finally deep breath before pulling himself upright. He nearly manages it alone, but Angel helps him in the last minute, with a palm to his back, and then once he’s got the momentum of it, he’s up. Wincing and limping as he turns, but up.

You’re crying again. Or, your eyes are, and you’re just letting them. Wet down your cheeks.

‘I thought you were…’ You can’t manage to say it. The words become a whimper that you try to hide by clearing your throat. Before, you had enough of a mission to ignore the fear of it, the sinking what if behind your eyes. Now, it’s pouring out like gasoline. So thick, you can hardly breathe.

He struggles over to you; from the clench of his jaw, you can tell he’s hiding what it costs him, how much it hurts, to protect you. To save you from worrying even further. One foot in front of the other, between where the two men sit, and then he’s in front of you. Upright, and alive, and breathing hot, dry breath over you.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, pulling you into a hug with the arm he seems to be favouring.

You press your face to his chest and lock your hands behind the back of him. ‘For what?’ you mutter, glad of his clothes to muffle the catch in your voice.

‘Scaring you all the time.’ He puts a kiss to your head, against the hair, holds you tighter than you dared to hold him. ‘Must be the worst boyfriend in the world.’

You scoff, puffing it at the skin by his neck. ‘You think I’d dig through this shit to get you, if you were?’

You’d dig through three times the amount if it meant seeing him safe. If it meant having him, like this, on the other side.

He squeezes you again, before pulling back and shifting so he can lay his arm over your shoulder. There’s a thank-you in the way he looks at you, a level of relief, and love, that neither of you need to articulate. It’s enough to make you sniff away the last of your tears, to take an edge off the lingering concern.

‘Can we get out of here?’ he asks, wincing, and hissing a breath as he tries to walk again. ‘Always fucking hated these tunnels.’

‘Yeah,’ you scoff, ‘me too.’

If only it made a difference. If only that would stop him walking through one again.

#ez reyes #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes x you #mayans mc fanfic #whumpril2023 #this FLEWWWW out of me #my brain really said what if we buried someone alive today? <3

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ashes-writing · 1 year

Text

outer banks ● one girl two guys pt 2 ● j.maybank + t. thornton

warnings

angst, jealousy and tension, reader has a not so good home life -drunk / childish parent and an absent father/no clue who her real one is-, Kiara Carrera and you/yn do not get along well at all and the reason why is revealed here, writer attempting something she’s never actually attempted before ( complicated relationships, fml ) swearing, mentions of 🍃and alcohol, probably a lot of fighting / confrontations because JJ is a Pogue and Topper is a Kook and yn/you/reader will be irrevocably caught in the middle of the bullshit.. oh and most likely, a little bit of the filth at some point in the future.

<- female reader, vague physical description that may become less vague if/when I do more with this.

word count

4783 exactly. Welcome to part 2, ig?

( i know where this is going now. there will be more parts. you're all going to be quite sick of my bullshit by the end of this probably, lmaooo.)

summary

continued from ( here ) One girl. Two guys. One a Pogue, one a Kook. Who will win your heart? My summaries are shiiit omfg.

taglist

the doc is ( here ) and presently, there's nobody, not a soul on it for outer banks. if you want to be tagged to my outer banks content, add your name.

@tbmunson bestie i love youuu and this chapter would not have come out without our talk. seriously, babes, I owe you my fucking life for this.

other links

masterlist ● jj's masterlist ● topper's masterlist ● about + rules

You wake up to the sound of your mother coming home from wherever she slept the night before, yelling your name.

With a little grumbling, you pull yourself out of bed and make your way into the living room. “It’s 8 am.” you’re not amused at all as you stand there with a hand on your hip and the other one caught in thick and messy hair. “Go to sleep, alright?”

Through the partially open front door, you can see Luke Maybank sitting outside on his porch, a cigarette dangling between his lips and a cold one in his hand already. There’s no sign of JJ’s dirtbike, so you’re hoping he’s at the Chateau. Away from his father. You linger at the front door long enough that Luke looks up at you and gives you one of his creeper smirks and this is what prompts you to slam the door shut. After you’ve shut the door from where you mother left it open, you get your mother wrangled into bed down the hall. Lowering the lights and closing the blinds. As you’re walking out of her room, she gives you a small smile. “You’re such a good girl, ___. Always takin care of me.”

You sigh and nod. Because there have been times, when she’s too drunk to function or she manages to run up a tab that’s higher than her mortgage payment and there’s no spare money to make a house payment or get yourself food or other things you need.. You’ve toyed with the idea of running away, just living on your own. The truth of the matter is, you’ve been raising yourself since your dad walked out when you were 12.

,, and technically, I’ve been raising her too.” the thought comes and it’s bitter, it leaves you frowning. When she tries to get you to give her a hug, you’re kind but you’re firm. “Sleep, mom. Go to sleep, ‘kay?”

“Okay, angel. Mommy’s t-tired. We’ll talk later though.”

You walk out of her bedroom and into the kitchen, where you slap yourself together scrambled eggs and a few strips of bacon. The fridge is getting bare again and you’re more than a little glad that you get paid at the end of your shift at the Wreck in a few hours.

As you’re walking back into your bedroom, you see the screen of your cell phone lit up.

A missed call and a text.

The missed call is from Topper, which is surprising, considering you were at least 85 percent sure you completely botched the little conversation you guys had the day before. You start to get ready for the day and you text him back.

← Sorry. Fell asleep.

← What’d you want?

When he doesn’t answer, you kind of put it off to him being busy or him only calling because he’s bored in the first place. So, you gather some cutoffs, your favorite cropped white shirt and your makeup kit and you step into the bathroom. As you’re brushing your teeth, you realize that JJ’s texted you.

→ Pope and John B wanted me to tell you they missed you.

You smile a little at the mention of your mutual friends. But you’re frowning as soon as it hits you that JJ hasn’t made a peep about missing you. You shove the intrusive thought out and turn your attention back to an attempt to do anything you can to tame the wild beast known as your hair, scowling when you can’t even get a messy bun to stay without snapping hair ties. After the third hair tie, you give up on the messy bun and you opt for a french braid going down either side of your head instead. “Meh, it’ll have t’ do.” you shrug as you look at the final result in the bathroom mirror.

You text JJ back because unlike him, you’re not going to leave somebody on read when they’re reaching out like he’s done you for the better part of two weeks.

← Tell them I miss them too.

Three dots pop up, then they disappear. This goes on for at least two minutes until those three blinking dots are finally gone and you’re flipping off your phone screen and grumbling. Because you wish he’d just say whatever it is he apparently keeps trying to text and get it over with.

The second text is from Kiara and you’re rolling your eyes. Did she not get the hint when you exploded on her yesterday afternoon during your shift when she wouldn’t shut up? But you remind yourself that it’s better to at least attempt to be nice until people give you a reason not to.. And you remind yourself that your outburst was a little ridiculous, she doesn’t know you have feelings for JJ Maybank too because it’s not like those feelings are out on display or anything.

→ I did it.

Your brows knit together and you give your phone’s screen a blank look before texting back. You’ve completely forgotten about what she was asking your advice on while you were both working.

← Okay then. Awesome, I guess?

After you text Kiara back, you grab your phone charger and slip your cell phone into the back pocket of your cut offs. And since you’re only working til 1, you grab a beach towel, your earbuds and your swimsuit. You’re thinking like a little time at the beach is a good idea because it’ll keep you out of the house. Out of your mother’s hair while she’s sleeping it off before her shift at the hospital.

Then you grab your key and you’re locking it behind you when you hear JJ call your name from his house across the street.

You wave.

He frowns a little.

And starts walking over.

“Where have you been lately, huh?”

“Working, JJ. I’ve been working.” you explain calmly. And every part of you wants to ask him why it matters, after all, he’s the one who started distancing after you attempted to act differently, clue him in to how you felt.

“Okay, what’s with the attitude?” JJ asks, standing taller, folding his arms over his chest and God help you, you try not to stare at the way it makes biceps even more defined or calls attention to the way his shoulders are broader now, but you can’t stop yourself from staring a little. You shake your head and laugh.

“You know how I feel about her hanging around.”

Blue eyes darken. He gives you this sarcasm filled little laugh. “She was your best friend, y’know. And she had a rough time. Kiara’s our friend too, ___.”

“And? She’s the one who abandoned all of us. But I guess you guys are just gonna overlook that because she’s back now.. Until Michael and Anna get tired of her ‘acting out’ and make her stay away again. Or things get too real out here in the real world for her and she ditches us when we need her, man.” you’re angry and you’re bitter and you don’t mean to snap, but you’ve done it. And you can see him flinch a little. He covers with one of his cute lopsided grins. “Hey, whoa.. Easy.”

It takes him an entire ten minutes, but he finally asks about how your life is going. And normally, it would’ve been the first thing he asked. “How’s everything going… with your mom, I mean.”

“It’s fine, JJ. Nothing to worry about.”

“No, you’re upset.”

“No, JJ. I’m fine. Totally fine.”

As you’re standing there, your cell phone rings. And it’s Topper again. And every part of you is tempted to answer the call but you let it go to voice instead. And you’re staring up at JJ, shaking your head sadly. “I gotta go. I’ll see you around later.” and before you can stop yourself, you've stepped a little closer. Resting the palm of your hand against the front of his shirt as you look up at him. Then you realize what you're doing and you step away, start to walk away because if you don't.. You're going to say something or do something. "Later, JJ. I'll see you later, alright? I've gotta.. go." you call out over your shoulder because even taking one glance behind you might make you change your mind and linger longer than you have time for right now...

“Yeah. I’ll see you later. Hey.” he calls out to you as you’re walking down the road and you turn back to look at him, “Take it easy on Kie yesterday, you really hurt her feelings.”

And you start to ask him what about your feelings, why aren’t you allowed to feel anger at her suddenly wanting things to go back to exactly the way they were, but you stop yourself. Because Kiara Carrera isn’t worth losing your oldest best friend over. And if you do too much, it stands to reason that you’ll push him straight into her arms. Where he’s only going to get used and tossed to the side when Kiara decides she’s done playing at bad girl for a second or third time.

He’s your best friend. The boy you love. You don’t want to see him hurt.

You’re wandering into work and the place is already crowded. You’re fuming because you stopped at an ATM in the gas station and checked the balance of your shared account with your mother and you found out that apparently, during her little 3 day bender, she drained it and the account is now -100.

And you had the light bill scheduled to come out. So when Kiara spots you and wanders over, practically floating up to you as you tie on your branded apron and grab a pen and pad to take orders, you are not in the mood to deal with whatever your former friend is about to tell you.

What you’re not expecting is for her to tell you that she went for it and she told JJ how she felt. And you’re definitely not expecting the way it feels as if someone’s just taken a sledgehammer to your own heart. Because she’s too giddy, too happy. You can tell already this is just another one of her whirlwind decisions and you know it’s heading for disaster.

And you’re pissed. Because not a single time during your conversation with JJ before you came to work, not once did he mention anything Kiara’s standing in front of you telling you. Parts of you don’t want to believe her but the sinking feeling in your gut is what has you realizing it’s most likely true.

,, See? You weren’t the one he wanted.. If you were, don’t you think he’d have picked up on the way you were trying to be more affectionate with him and responded? What’d he do, ___? He got distant.” the thought comes and it somehow makes you feel even worse.

Between your mother choosing to be the irresponsible one yet again and this, you’re done for the day and you can’t take anymore. And Kiara looks so happy, so proud of herself, maybe even a little smug as she stands in front of you.

You’re not perfect. You want her to hurt like you are.

So you roll her eyes and laugh. “It’ll last like two weeks tops. That’s how it always goes with you, right? If you break my best friend’s heart, you’re dead to me. Have fun, I guess.” you shove past her and make your way over to a table filled with old money Kooks to take their order.

You can feel her staring, gaping at you as you go about your job.

By the time your break rolls around and you’ve heard her talking about it to John B when he comes in to pick up his order, you’re even more hurt and bitter than you were at the start.

And it’s true what they say, hurt people hurt people.

Because the first thing you do when you’re standing out back to have a smoke and at least try to salvage your mood for the day is to text JJ. In anger.

← fucking seriously? We’re supposed to be best friends, JJ.

← You can’t just tell me you’re with her? I have to hear it from literally everybody else?

← not cool, dude.

← Have fun, i guess.

And after this, you’re just.. Done.

As in, totally finished. Can’t take another shitty thing happening to you for the rest of the day. With almost two hours left in your shift, you find Kiara’s dad and tell him you need to take the afternoon and the next day off, something has come up and you need to deal with it. And while it’s kind of a lie, it technically isn’t.

You smirk just a little when Michael is telling Kiara that she’s got to give up her day off and the rest of the afternoon to cover for you and you hear her complain that it isn’t fair. Every part of you almost storms over and tells her that what isn’t fair is the fact that you covered every single shift she missed when she ran off to God knows where with your friends and nobody was telling you whether they were dead or alive.. But you’re just done and checked out, so you leave the restaurant instead.

JJ hasn’t texted you back and somehow, this doesn’t surprise you. And you’re at least fifty percent sure it’ll be a while before you hear from him again.

And you’re trying to come to grips with that. Sad because this is not how you saw your friendship with JJ Maybank ending at all. Frustrated because you know if you even attempt to open his eyes, it’s just gonna drive him even closer to her. Jealous because you know that the whole reason this whole thing is even affecting you like it does is because you want him but you were too scared to speak up.

The rain starts to fall and you pause your walk to throw up your hands and look up at the sky. “Seriously? Rain? Now?” you wonder aloud and the sound of laughter and an idling vehicle have you glancing around. Your gaze settles on Topper Thornton’s parked Jeep. He’s watching you, amusement making doe eyes dance.

“Everything okay, ___?”

“Swell. Everything is just swell, Topper.” you call out as the rain starts to increase, the loudness of thunder as the storm that’s been threatening to break for the last hour and a half finally settles over the island. You’re laughing too, soaked to the bone.

“Get in.” he’s giving you this charmers grin. It’s actually kind of cute. You eye him warily. “Aren’t you a little far from home right now, dude?”

“Yeah, well.. I saw you walking and you looked upset. Just get in. C’mon.”

You mull it over and in the meantime, the rain isn’t getting any slower. The storms not coming to a lull, either. If anything, it’s only getting slightly more intense.

You shrug. Grumble “What the fuck, why not. It’s not like he’s a stranger.” to yourself as you slink over to his Jeep and open the passenger door to climb in. As soon as you’ve shut the door behind you, he finds somewhere to turn around and he’s heading towards your side of the island. The awkward silence is too much. Silence, in general, is too much for you at the moment and as soon as you start to really overthink everything yet again, you’re sniffling quietly.

Topper reaches out to lower the volume on the rock station playing on the radio. And he’s gazing at you in concern as the Jeep rolls to a stop at the last red light before you’re leaving town behind. “Are you alright?”

You shrug. And you’ve always hated people seeing you cry, especially people you feel will somehow use that against you later on, so you train your eyes on the grass and trees going past as you take off again once the light is green.

Topper repeats his question two more times and on the last time he repeats it, you break. You’re telling this poor guy everything that’s been going on lately. Everything. Even your mother’s repeated shenanigans with the money. And it’s more than a little embarrassing, you want to die or vanish every time your mouth opens and more pathetic woe is me crap keeps spewing out, but you can’t stop.

And it hits you. This is the first time in a long time that anybody’s even made an attempt to ask you if you’re actually alright. And you’re not.. You’re really, really not.

Topper pulls into a rest area and puts his Jeep into park.

“C’mere, it’s okay.” he holds his arms out and you look at him, a brow raised for a second before you find yourself just melting into him a little. Crying it out to a point where your mascara is streaking the front of his soft baby blue plaid shirt. As you pull away -and it’s way too quick for him, he’s stunned at how good it feels to hold you the way he was- you look at the front of his shirt and cringe as you mumble a pitiful apology.

“It’s okay to not be okay, ___.” he mumbles quietly after a second or two. And then he grabs a fast food napkin from his console and wipes your eyes a little. Awkwardly apologizing as soon as he realizes just how close he is and stops to think of how he might be invading your personal space. “Sorry..”

“No, it’s.. It’s okay?” you’re shocked that you’re saying it. Even more shocked that he’s reacting to your meltdown the way he is, as opposed to walking away or shutting down. Ignoring you until you’re okay again.

And deeper down, you’d probably die before admitting it, you felt good. When he was hugging you, you could feel this calmness kind of take over. And you’re left to feel horrible because up to this point, you’d written him off with the rest of the Kooks on the island.

All this is shoved out of your head as he nears your side of the island. Where the pavement turns to dirt roads and the modest family homes turn to older homes, most in need of serious repair. “You don’t have to, uh.. You can just stop somewhere, my house isn’t far. I don’t wanna be trouble or anything.” you speak up quietly.

Topper shakes his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Besides, I just saw lightning.” he stares at you, watches you squirming in the passenger seat. He knows you’re probably embarrassed about the way you were just falling apart in front of him, he’s seen you around long enough to have taken notice of the way you always act like nothing bothers you. And he’s surprised to learn that you’re not as tough as you make yourself seem.

He tries -and fails- at mentally replaying the way you melted against him just minutes ago. He knows he’s screwed now and it will haunt him night and day. Because something just kind of clicked while he was comforting you. And it’s something that right now, he can’t even bring himself to wrap his head around.

Because admitting that he might feel something deeper than a physical attraction, well.. That’s dangerous territory, especially when he remembers the hell he went through with Sarah Cameron before she finally chose John B not so long ago.

“Okay, well.. My house is down the next road. On the right. Pink shutters.” you manage to mumble after you finally make yourself stop staring at his side profile while he’s driving and not paying any attention to you but where he’s heading instead. Topper nods. “Right.. Pink shutters.”

As your house comes into view, you take a few shaky breaths and prepare yourself to go inside and possibly have to deal with your mother. Parts of you are hoping she’s gone again just so you don’t have to because you know you’re only going to think about her blowing through all the money you saved and you’re going to be angry, you will yell and argue and say things you shouldn’t.

And she’ll yell back, she’ll cry, she’ll remind you that you’re the reason your father left. Then you’ll be forced to tell her that her affair is the reason your father left. Because finding out he wasn’t really your father, just in name only, well.. Kind of made him angry. And he was finally just done taking care of your mom whenever she’d break down or shut down like she tended to.

Topper pulls his truck to a stop behind an early 2000’s model Mustang and he looks over at you, watches as you seem to be preparing yourself to even go inside the faded white house with the pink shutters and the sagging front door. “And here you are… Are you sure you’re okay, __?”

You sigh. “Kind of have no choice, Top. Thanks for the uh.. The lift.” you’re leaning in over the console before you can stop yourself and you’re more than a little tempted to give him at least a peck on the cheek but you manage to stop yourself. You reach up and give damp blonde tipped hair a little fluff instead. As you’re getting out of the Jeep, you pause. “You’re actually not a prick.”

Topper chuckles and shrugs. “Who would’ve thought.” he’s smiling at you and the thought sneaks it’s way past your iron clad defense, surprising you. When he smiles and it’s a real one, he has a nice smile. Dimples, too.

You shut the door to the Jeep and watch him drive away for a few seconds before rushing into the house.

Your mom’s still sleeping it off, she’ll probably sleep until the absolute last second that she’s got to be getting up and leaving for her shift in the hospital on the mainland. So your deep-ingrained childhood habit for nights like this kicks in and you quietly make your way back to your room, shutting the door behind you. Flopping across your bed and just letting out a long and ragged breath.

–

“Why’s that asshole on our side of the island?” JJ is fuming as he watches the silver gray Jeep Topper Thornton drives pull to a stop in front of your mom’s place. From behind him, Pope speaks up with a shrug, “Dunno man.”

JJ clenches his fist. “I told her he was an asshole. And he’s one of them!”

“Dude… you’re trying to be with Kie.” Pope points out, falling silent under JJ’s stormy glare. JJ picks up his vape pen and takes a hit. And he turns back, watching as Topper’s Jeep drives away after a minute or two. You’ve gone inside by now.

→ What the fuck was that, cupcake?

→ C’mon, we talked about this. Dude is an asshole.

→ Look, I just don’t want you getting hurt or something.

He slips his phone back into his pocket and turns his attention back to packing up some clothes to go over to John B’s place for a few days. Pope is waiting in the doorway, shaking his head.

“You know you can’t have them both.. Right? It’s either ___ or Kie.”

JJ tenses slightly. “___ will come around. She just needs time. She used to be Kie’s friend too.”

“Yeah well.. Pretty sure Kie’s mom ended that when she made that stupid call two years ago and got DCPS poking around.” Pope studies his friend solemnly. “If you’re so sure it’s ___… why are you even bothering with Kie, man? It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Because..” JJ takes a few deep breaths and he shrugs. “If I go for it and it fucks up.. I’m gonna lose her completely.”

“And you’re not already, man?” Pope questions. JJ flinches a little. “She’s just been busy with work.”

“Mhm.” Pope moves out of the way so JJ can walk out onto the porch. And JJ spots the light on in your bedroom window, pausing to stare across the road at it. Until you catch him and rush to untie the tarot card print tapestry you have up as a curtain. JJ frowns a little. “She didn’t even wave.”

He’s starting to walk over and Pope grumbles to himself about it, catching up to his best friend. “I need you to stop and think right now, man. If you go over and you’re mad about Topper coming by.. It’s only gonna drive her to him.”

“It won’t. All I’m gonna do is talk, Pope. Okay? Trust the process.”

“Okay, alright. But I warned you. Okay, look.. Remember how she was trying to be more affectionate? And you kind of shut her out? And you’ve been avoiding her.. All I’m saying is if you go over there and you’re angry, man.. You’re never gonna be able to fix all that.”

When JJ doesn’t listen, Pope grumbles to himself and throws up his hand before walking back across the street. “Fine. Don’t listen, buddy. Whatever happens just happens I guess.”

JJ’s knocking on your door and as he stands there waiting on you to answer, he’s trying to decide what he’s going to say to you, going over that in his head. Because maybe if he plans out what he’ll say, it’ll be easier to actually say it.

But when you haven’t opened the door by the fifth or sixth knock, he’s a little annoyed. He walks off the porch and makes his way around to your bedroom window. Starts knocking on that instead. “Hey! Don’t you hear me outside?”

You pause the television show you’re watching and glare at the tapestry covered window for a few seconds. “Go home, JJ.” you call out loudly enough to be heard through the crack in the window. “I mean it. Go home.”

“What the hell was Topper doing parked outside your house?”

“Nothing, alright? Damn. Not that it matters or anything, but nothing happened.”

“You were in his Jeep, cupcake. C’mon, you know better than that.”

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Are you calling me stupid right now, Maybank? Seriously? Because that’s what this sounds like.”

“No! No, I just.. Look, he’s a Kook, cupcake. He’s not one of us.”

“And? Look, you know perfectly well I’ve never bought into this whole epic feud you all have going, JJ.” you call out before rolling over on your bed to sit up and pull the window to your bedroom completely shut.

JJ gives you an irritated look when you lock eyes with him through the window and you give him a little shrug. He throws up his hands at you and you can see him mouthing that you need to listen to him.

You assume that he’s left, so you unpause your show and go back to watching.

But then, about fifteen minutes later, you can hear him knocking on your door again. He even does the stupid little “Housekeeping?” that usually makes you laugh and forget how annoyed you are with him at the moment to go answer the door.

Tonight though.. Tonight it’s only making you even more annoyed.

“Why the fuck does it matter? You’re with Kie now, doofus. Focus on that. On her.” you grumble to yourself as you roll your eyes and slip out of bed to go into the living room and turn off the porch light.

“Come on! Talk to me!”

The porch lights go off and JJ is left to stand in fading daylight on your front porch. He’s staring at the front door in determination. He knocks again and finally, you just can’t deal another second. So you throw the door open and lean in the doorway, arms folded. Annoyance in your eyes. “Get off my fucking porch, Maybank.”

“Not til you listen to me, cupcake. Because apparently, you’re all hot and bothered by that.. Kook asshole.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. “It’s actually not even like that. Anyway, aren’t you with Kie right now? Why aren’t you.. Ya know.. With her? I didn’t ask you to come over and bother me.”

“You’re my best friend. I don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

You raise a brow. “You act like I’m gonna go for him.” and you’re annoyed at the way JJ automatically jumps to that conclusion about you. So you pull the front door shut. “Get off my fucking porch, Maybank. Go spend time with your girlfriend!”

JJ is left to stand there, staring at the door. Baffled. Angry because you’re not listening and it’s like you’ve forgotten just how bad the Kooks are.. Or even the fact that not too long ago, he was in a pretty bad fight with Topper.

“C’mon. Let her cool down before you completely mess this up, JJ.” Pope speaks up from behind him and JJ sighs, waving a hand at your house as he nods in agreement. “Maybe if I back off she’ll come to her senses on her own.”

#jj maybank #topper thornton #jj maybank fanfiction #topper thornton fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #topper thornton imagine #jj maybank x you #topper thornton x you #jj maybank x yn #topper thornton x yn #jj maybank x reader #topper thornton x reader #<- my writing ● jj maybank #<- my writing ● topper thornton #<- warnings | swearing / confrontations / alc and w**d mentions ● reader has a not so good home life ● angst / hurt comfort / fluff #<- warning | female reader used ● v. vague characteristics assigned ( long / thick / messy hair and rock band shirts / alt style )#fandom ( outer banks ) ● season ( all ) ● characters ( jj maybank + topper thornton )

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ravennaortiz · 4 days

Note

Alright here's another one. Let's go with Creeper this time. I've got a good list for him this time so let's go with the prompts:

7. Stay away from my sister. (Any of the guys would do so creative freedom for you on this one.)

20. Why?

5. I can take care of myself.

17. I love you.

32. You're mine.

30. I need you.

I don't see Creeper get requested often and this list of prompts is perfect for him! As always my stories are 18+!

Tag List: @keyweegirlie @meera10 @mama-mischief @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @kikijackson-blog

"Fuck" you muttered as you caught sight of your brother over Creepers shoulder. There was no mistaking the murderous look in his eyes as he marched towards you too.

"Hmm?" mumbled Creeper barely moving his mouth off your neck even though you were pushing him back. Before you could give any further warning your brother had his hands on Creeper yanking him back.

"Gilly!" you shouted as you grabbed at his arms. "Enough" growled Gilly as he glared at you before turning back to Creeper.

"That is my sister. How could you betray me like this?" demanded Gilly his grip on Creeper tightening. "I want you to stay away from her".

"Why would I stay away from the woman I love the most in this world?" inquired Creeper keeping his voice calm in the hopes his friend would release him some.

"Gilly let go off him" you demanded as you smacked harder at your brothers head.

"Princesa stop hitting him" chuckled Creeper. "I can take care of myself I promise" he added. You huffed but did as he requested. Gilly raised a brow at that but did let go of Creeper.

Creeper straightened him self out before turning to Gilly and speaking. "Look, I know we should have come to you months ago when this started, for that I apologize. But I won't apologize for our relationship and love".

Gilly was silent as he stared at his friend, processing the words of his friend. "Fine. I don't want to see that shit again though" he grunted before shaking Creepers hand and backing off to the other side of the clubhouse with Angel and Coco.

Creeper let out a sigh of relieve before turning to you with his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know Mi Amor, just because I have had six bullets rip through my body doesn't mean I want more. A better warning next time would be appreciated.

You rolled your eyes as you laughed and pulled him to you. "I love you too by the way" you stated before kissing him gently as your hands ran down his chest making him groan.

"Your brother was clear he was okay with me making you mine but did not want to see it" scolded Creeper as he playfully smacked your hands away making you laugh.

"Then I guess I need you to take me home and teach me a lesson so it sinks in" you replied as you winked at him.

Creeper snorted as he grabbed your hand and grabbed your bag off the table. "Away we go then" he stated before leading you to the door.

Want more Creeper? Click here

Want to make your own request? Click here

Want to be on the tag list? Click here

#ravennasmasterlist #ravennasrequest #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans imagine #mayans mc imagines #mayans x reader #creeper x you #creeper vargas #creeper fanfic #neron creeper vargas x reader #neron creeper vargas #neron vargas x reader #fanfic #imagine

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softspiderling · 2 years

Text

do you believe in love at first sight (or should I walk by again) p.m.m.

summary: It takes you a second to recognize him, but by the time you place his face, he’s already gone. To your surprise however, he doubles back, jogging backwards.

"I know you," he says, stating a fact. "You’re the Davis’ neighbor.”

You smile and tell him your name, and when he introduces himself as Maverick, you pause.

"That’s unfortunate.”

or, the one where you keep running into Maverick.

pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x reader

warnings: just, very cheesy

word Count: 1,8k

author’s note: requested by the lovely @idiomaticpunk. Hope you like it!!

The first time you see him, he’s leaving Bethany Davis’ house at the crack of dawn. You’re barely awake, sipping on your coffee to wake yourself up for your shift at the café. It’s dark, and the collar of his jacket is drawn up, hiding most of his face. The beam of the street light hits his face and you can tell that he is very handsome.

As if he’s sensing your eyes on him, he looks in your direction, staring straight into the window and you quickly turn away, your cheeks burning up. You don’t dare looking back out to the street until you hear an engine start, followed by the sound of a motorcycle driving past your house.

The second time you see him, you’re sitting on a bench by the beach, taking a break from your morning jog. It’s just starting to get warm and the rays of the sun warm your face. Leaning back on the chair, you allow yourself five more minutes, when someone jogs by. It takes you a second to recognize him, but by the time you place his face, he’s already gone. To your surprise however, he doubles back, jogging backwards.

"I know you," he says, stating a fact. "You’re the Davis’ neighbor.”

You smile and tell him your name, and when he introduces himself as Maverick, you pause.

"That’s unfortunate.”

Maverick smiles, and you like the way his eyes crinkle. You can already tell that you’re not going to like the direction this is heading.

“It’s my callsign,” he explains, pulling his dog tags out of his tank. “I’m a naval aviator.”

“Ah,” you say, pushing yourself off the bank. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Maverick.”

Saluting at him, you turn on your heel and continue your jog down the beach. It doesn’t take long for Maverick to catch up with you, and he easily jogs backwards, grinning at you.

“What’s gotten you in such a hurry?”

“I got places to be,” you say, barely glancing at him. He is pretty cute. He’s also entangled in some sort of weird situationship with Bethany Davis and honestly? He looks like trouble. And you’re not sure if he’s worth all that.

“You don’t mean that small beach café at the end of the promenade do you?”

“What? No.”

“Come on. Have breakfast. My treat,” he offers and you breathe out a laugh, shaking your head.

“Maybe next time.”

With that, you wind out of his grasp, returning on your jog.

“I’ll hold you to that!”

You’re grateful that he decides against following you this time, because the snort you let out is more than unladylike.

The third time you see him, he’s standing in front of the fruit aisle, staring at a watermelon. You contemplate backing out of the aisle, but it’s too late.

“It’s you,” Maverick says with a shit-eating grin.

“It’s me.”

“Are you stalking me?”

“Oh please,” you scoff with a shake of your head. “I’ve been coming here for three years and I’ve never seen you once.”

Maverick only laughs, leaning against your shopping cart. “I guess I’ve been caught. Been wondering when I’d get to see you again and I didn’t want to lurk outside your house like a creeper.”

“Ah, and then you thought that skulking around grocery stores was a better idea?” you asked. Maver doesn’t answer, instead he scans your cart.

“You shopping for breakfast?”

“... Amongst other things, yes.”

You realize where he’s heading with his line of questioning, but he beats you to it.

“Let me buy you breakfast instead. You still owe me, right?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it owing you…” you point and Maverick blinks at you, before you concede.

“Fine. You can buy me breakfast.”

Maverick gives you a dazzling smile in response. After returning the items in your cart, you walk to a nearby cafe. Even though it was quite busy, he manages to grab you a table, and after ordering, you quickly excuse yourself to head to the restroom, staring at yourself in the mirror.

“God, what am I doing?” you mutter, splashing some cold water in your face. When you left the house that morning, you didn’t know that you were going to go on a breakfast date with him. Drying your face, you pinch your cheeks to get some color and then run your hands through your hair.

When you return from the restroom, you see that your order has arrived and you take a seat across from him.

“So, do you always take strangers you meet on a run out for coffee?” you ask, taking a sip from your coffee.

Maverick leans back, his arm slung over the headrest of the booth. “Nah. Only the pretty ones,” he says, clicking his tongue and you only roll your eyes at him, fighting a smile.

“Tell me about yourself, pretty girl,” he says and you can’t even believe this guy. Did he just walk out of some kitschy rom-com?

“How about you tell me about yourself,” you suggest instead. “I don’t even know your real name.”

“It’s Pete. Pete Mitchell. Been flying for the navy for about 8 years now and I’m currently an instructor at top gun.”

“That’s it?” you ask, unimpressed with the bare details he just gave you.

“What?”

“I wanted you to tell me about yourself, not your job.”

“Well, flying for the navy is my job, but it’s also what made me the man that I am today. It’s where I found the people that I call my family. Flying is my life. I wouldn’t know what to do if I wasn’t flying.”

If you notice a wistful tone in his voice, you don’t comment on it and smile, approving. “Well, it’s not everyday that I meet someone who’s found their calling in their job,” you chuckle and Maverick laughs, bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck.

After that, the conversation flows more easily and you share more details about your life. He learns that you’re working as a barista while doing your masters in English literature, not really having a plan for the future after that. You learn that, while he enjoys teaching at top gun, he isn’t really sure if teaching is what he is supposed to do. When it’s nearly time for Maverick to leave to teach his first class of the day, you’re almost disappointed.

“You should give me your number. I’ll call you,” Maverick says and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Really? You sure Bethany’s okay with that?”

Maverick tilts his head in confusion, frowning. “Who’s Bethany?”

“Um. Bethany Davis?” you elaborate slowly, unsure if you got anything wrong.

“Oh! Admiral Davis’ daughter?” Maverick exclaims. “Why wouldn’t she be okay with that?”

“... Are you not like… Seeing her?”

Maverick stares at you. “Where’d you get that idea?”

“You left her house at like, six am. What else was I supposed to think?”

“Admiral Davis invited me for dinner and we had drinks, I didn’t want to leave a bad impression that I would drink and drive, so he let me crash on his couch,” Maverick explains, smirking. “But it’s nice to see that you were thinking about me so much.”

You roll your eyes at him, but still write your phone number on a napkin, sliding it over to him. “Don’t make me regret giving it to you.”

Maverick folds the napkin gently and slips it into his pocket carefully, as if it’s a precious treasure. You only watch him, the scene greatly amusing you.

“I’ll call you,” he promises and you can’t really tell if he means it or not, so you only nod with a smile, waving as he leaves. You stay seated by yourself for a while, before you put your head in your head, screaming internally. After, you feel better, so you make your way back home, your mind still on Maverick.

As you move to your daily chores, you can’t help yourself, but you keep gravitating to your cell-phone, even though it hasn’t even made a beep. He’s probably not going to call you today, and you know that there’s a high chance that he’s not ever going to call you. You feel kinda dumb, that you initially rebuffed his advances, trying to stay strong, but you still got weak in the end.

The fourth time you see him, you don’t really see him.

It’s a couple of dates after your coffee date, and he still hasn’t called, so you finally decide to stop sulking. He’s got your number. He knows where you live. He has all the means to contact you, and he hasn’t. You know what it means. Throwing yourself into your assignments, you hope to distract yourself.

And it works.

Until the phone rings.

Warily, you pick it up, staring at the local area code, but before you can decide against picking up, it stops ringing. Just to start ringing again a few seconds later. It repeats twice, before you finally pick up, sighing into the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yes… Why?”

“This is Lieutenant Wolfe. I am calling to pass a message through from Lieutenant Mitchell.”

God, what the hell did he do?

“Um, okay? What is it?”

“He told me to tell you to look outside, ma’am.”

The fuck?

Frowning, you step outside your front porch, leaning against the railing, peeking up to the sky, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head when you see what Lieutenant Wolfe wants you to see.

“Is he serious?” you spoke into the phone and Lieutenant Wolfe merely chuckles.

“He sure is. What’s your answer?”

You sigh. For a long time, staring at the little dinner? with a loopy m at the end. “Jesus, okay. Fine. You can tell him I said yes.”

“I will. He’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven.”

“You can also tell him that there’s no way in hell I am getting on that motorcycle,” you add. “It’s a death trap.”

“I will pass it along, ma’am. Have a nice evening.”

You bid him goodbye, but before he hangs up, you can still hear Lieutenant Wolfe distinctly mutter under his breath.

“I cannot believe that worked.”

And honestly, neither can you.

The fifth time you see him, he’s standing outside your house, leaning against a dark vehicle, which was obviously not his motorcycle. Maverick takes off his aviators when you step outside, looking you up and down appreciatively. As you walk towards him, he opens the passenger door of his car, bowing slightly.

“M’lady.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you tell him, however you press a quick kiss on his cheek, before you get in the car. You watch as Maverick rounds the car to get in the driver’s seat, his aviators perched on his nose again.

“Just as a heads-up, I am not taking you on a very common dinner date.”

Your hand moves to the door handle. “Is it too late to get out?”

“You’re funny,” Maverick grins. “Are you ready?”

The question feels more loaded than it’s supposed to and when he glances over to you, you feel a sudden urge to say yes, despite not knowing what lies ahead of you.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

#pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #maverick x reader #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell fanfiction #pete maverick mitchell x you

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radiomurdeer · 2 months

Text

Wishlist

Random ideas I'd like to see. These are by no means comprehensive or in any particular order and I'm down with lots of plotting/changes to initial idea, these are just some things off the top of my head to help facilitate plotting. You can view the wishlist tag itself by clicking here. This got long woops so I'll put it all under a cut.

With Anyone/General Scenarios

Hotel Dad Alastor - maybe he shouldn't have told Charlie he viewed her as his spawn. I feel like such a bold claim should have consequences.

Alastor is injured after the fight and is dealing with it. The other muse does not believe that he's fine (maybe he is, maybe he isn't) and wants to help.

Alastor is injured after the fight and is taken advantage of (dark thread)

corruption thread! slower burn, Alastor just being a general creeper and influencing those around him in a negative way. Or someone corrupting him but I feel like that might be harder to plot for.

muse as one of Alastor's contractees and has to deal with having a weird creepy boss

found family stuff I'm a sucker for it

Alastor joining the Vees. How willing he is can be variable. Maybe he joined when Vox asked? Maybe he lost the fight with Vox and one of the Vees ended up holding his leash 7 years ago. Maybe he finally relented after coming back from his sabbatical. Bonus points for anyone trying to convince him to change his name to Valastor or something equally dumb with a V to match the rest of them (he refuses, tyvm)

redeemed!Alastor - Great Alastor, altruist, did die for his friends. He's not happy about this. No one is happy about this. Falling from Heaven any% speedrun go! Or maybe Heaven figures out a way to use him against Hell?

IDK I just like political intrigue

With Charlie

AU where Alastor is, in fact, dating Charlie like he insinuated at the beginning of Episode 5 before switching tactics to be a father figure. This is probably not a healthy ship but it could be

Hotel Dad Alastor - you made the claim my guy, time to stick with it

IDK make him sit in therapy or something. He's not a resident, he's staff, but he should set a good example right? Or maybe she wants to try out some psychology stuff she's read about and get his opinion before testing it on the resident(s)

them working together on some project for the hotel or something else

field trips to Cannibal Town or elsewhere - for someone raised in Hell, she doesn't really seem to know much about her people

With Husk

role reversal, Husk owns Alastor's soul

Overlord Husk - stuff in the past leading up to the game where Husk lost his soul

aftermath and time following Alastor getting Husk's soul

With Lucifer

Lucifer and Alastor having to deal with each other, I just want banter and maybe reluctant co-parenting/co-hosting at the hotel.

Something based on the Mutual Satisfaction comic by @/Fernrynn on Twitter, first page is here but the rest is easy enough to find (tw: gore, canniballism), - Lucifer makes a deal with Alastor to provide his meals. Probably more of a horror thread tbh?

I like RadioApple of all flavors. Lucifer and Alastor dealing with starting to like someone they can't stand and having to deal with feelings is a fun dynamic.

With Vox

Them meeting and working together, Alastor taking a newly spawned Vox under his wing.

AU where they continue working together and the 'Vees' didn't happen (idk I love the idea of 'the Media Demons/Broadcast Husbands' getting a rep and showing up at the hotel in the pilot instead of just Alastor)

the point leading up to and including where Alastor and Vox split. I high key headcanon this happened in the 70s/80s when Valentino showed up. An ultimatum was given, and Vox chose Val. Super negotiable on the reason for the split though.

AU where Alastor loses the fight 7 years ago and ends up working for Vox. Or the other way around? Either is good.

Vox and Alastor team up for some reason during/after the series, possibly reconciling, possibly not

RadioStatic of all flavors, unrequited/unspoken/QPR/exes/anything. I fucking love RadioStatic

corrupt priest or corrupt nun AU? AU where one is getting tempted by a devil? both tempting an NPC? Idk Vox's priest getup in ep 2 and Alastor's nun outfit in ep 5 had me thinking

#//insert fancy wishlist tag here #//dead air; ooc #//may add or remove to this as time passes but at least it exists

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fionajames · 2 months

Text

updates!

hey guys!!! as you all probably realised, ive been pretty absent. i just got back to school from summer holidays (AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE OI OI OI) and therefore, its a lot. plus i do a lot of extra-curricular and im doing my school's musical too 😅 (@techs-goggles9902 can prove im busy af <3)

ive got a few things in the works but ofc with school, extra stuff, tests (ITS NOT EVEN THE THIRD WEEK YET WTAF) and writers' block, im moving pretty slow.

however it would be greatly appreciated if you guys could send asks about/for me to write about the creepers.

im super excited for two particular things coming out some time soonish; ethereal pt.2 (check out part 1 here) and the introduction to a new oc (ik, another one, *sigh*) that i know y'all love.

anyways!!!!!!!!

please send asks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

love ya

<3!!!!!!!

(tagging: @skellymom, @sevdidntdie (hey buir!!!) and @transmascanakin)

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prrism · 2 years

Note

Your writings about Babysitter!Reader are my favorites because they are ridiculously cute and I love cuteness, but now I have the brainrot about babysitter!Reader taking care of baby!Dream. Bonus if reader sings a thousand years by christina perry as a lullaby.

Here we go! We love bringing the brainrot to life here, also love the song a thousand years, is sooo good!

Petite Dreamer

Summary: You were supposed to be running an errand today, not babysitting the SMP’s most wanted man…

Characters: Dream x Reader (feat. Punz and mentions of a few other characters)

Relationship: platonic

Pronouns: unspecified/kept neutral

You had plans to gather resources and maybe visit a few friends, keyword being had as the second you opened your door to leave you see Punz, looking somewhat annoyed, standing there with a bunched up hoodie gripped in one arm. You don’t have a chance to say anything before he hands said hoodie to you.

“Not a word of this to anyone.” He says auickly.

“I-what?” You stare at him perplexed.

“Not a word to anyone. Got it?” His firm voice and stiff posture let you know this wasn’t a question. Suddenly feeling fearful of what was happening you can only manage a nod in response. “Swear it!” He near demands.

“Okay! I swear I won’t tell anyone about… whatever this is.” Now actually curious on what was going on you cautiously unwrap the hoodie and stare wide eyed at the child mindlessly chewing on an all too familiar mask. “What?!? How did-” Looking up you pause, seeing Punz had already left. Glancing back down again your greeted to two emerald orbs staring innocently back, a smile forming on the child’s face. “Alright,” you sigh, “looks like we won’t be making any trips today, so why don’t we head in and find something for you to do, yeah?”

You set Dream down and watch him start wandering around your living room, dropping his mask as he does. You stare at the item a feeling of unease washing over you the longer you stare at it, this was still Dream after all, the guy who manipulated people and waged wars for “peace” and yet here he was completely defenceless and at you mercy. You shake your head and pick the mask up off the floor, placing it on the coffee table, now wasn’t the time to be thinking like this.

“Would someone like to colour?” You ask, happy giggles and claps are your response as you pull out some crayons and paper. You set the supplies down and he’s immediately scribbling away at the paper giving you the opportunity to grab a snack for the both of you. It was an odd but pleasant feeling seeing Dream like this, he was so calm and happy much like he used to be before all the wars, you let out a nostalgic sigh as you head back into the living room. Now with a plate of apple slices to munch on, Dream continues with his “masterpiece” he seems so invested in while you sit on your armchair and read through one of your books.

A tug on your leg has you setting down the book to look at Dream, who happily shows you his finished picture. It’s a crude jumble of colours but your somewhat able to identify a few people in the image. Part of you wanted to share this with Puffy, the other part reminded you of the promise/threat from Punz so you decided against it. The colouring did seem to rile him up more so of course you head out to your pasture to let him run off his energy, you even played a mini manhunt with him, which was basically just tag. Even with his mentality set back to a child’s he was still quite the strategist, avoiding you with relative ease. You take a second to catch your breath, letting him hide and plot his victory of your little game, not that you minded too much, although the whole point of him being in your care was to keep an eye on him.

A faint hissing sound catches your ear, your head whipping in that direction to see a creeper stalking along the edge of your fenced perimeter, you eye the creature wearily. Normally you would’ve pulled out your sword to take care of it but you had somehow lost it during your last outing, which really sucked because not only was it made with netherite but it had been a gift from Phil and Techno. Standing you stretch yourself and pull out the makeshift iron sword you still had on hand and trudge your way forward, creepers usually left you alone but you still didn’t want to risk it blowing up your fence and letting other mobs in. As you make your slow approach you feel panic set in, it’s attention wasn’t on or your wandering horse, it was on Dream. In the short time you let him get away he’d made it to the fence line and somehow hadn’t even noticed the mob readying to explode, time moves slowly as you instinctively dash forward, adrenaline rushing through your veins. You get close enough to swing your sword and stagger the creeper back but not enough to stop it completely, you grab Dream and essentially use yourself as a shield to protect him from the explosion. You role to a stop, everything hurt, the fence and your sword were shattered with slivers of wood and iron stuck in your hand, but at least you were still alive.

The sound of crying pulls you from your daze, managing to sit up and look down at Dream, he looked shaken and no doubt had some minor cuts and bruises from the tumble. You try to get a better look at him but he just clings to you tighter as a result, you settle on calling your horse and carefully climb on its back to ride back to the house. Once inside again you waste no time in patching Dream and yourself up, taking extra care of removing the slivers from your hand and wrapping it. It was a bit of a tricky process what with Dream refusing to let go, but you managed.

“Hey, shhhh shhhh, it’s alright. Everything’s okay now.” You calmly hush the whimpering child. “I know what could help.” You say, Dream looking at you with watery eyes. You give a soft hum and walk over to a shelf with a small collection of music boxes, you grab one and sit on the couch to wind it up, the soft melody begins to play as you sing him the lullaby.

“Heart beats fast~ Colours and promises~ How to be brave~ How can I love when I’m afraid to fall~ But watching you stand alone~ All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow~ One step closer~ I have died everyday waiting for you~ Darling don’t be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years~ I love you for a thousand more~” You can see him slowly nodding off and begin to move in a soft rocking motion, a content smile on your face as you continue. “Time stands still~ Beauty in all she is~ I will be brave~ I will not let anything take away~ What’s standing in front of me~ Every breath~ Every hour has come to this~ One step closer~ I have died everyday waiting for you~ Darling don’t be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years~ I love you for a thousand more~ And all along I believed I would find you~ Time has brought your heart to me~ I have loved you for a thousand years~ l love you for a thousand more…~”

You don’t remember passing out but you find yourself waking up on the couch feeling a little sore, both from your position and your injuries, sitting up and stretching help relieve some of the pain. Looking around you find yourself completely alone, flying into a small panic when you don’t see any sign of Dream anywhere, even his mask was gone.

“Dream? You still here?” Honestly you didn’t even know if you wanted a legitimate answer to that. Your frantic looking comes to a halt though when you finally notice the sword and note sitting on the coffee table. You grab the weapon only to realize it was the one you’d lost, or at the very least an exact replica, you then turn your attention to the note:

Take better care of yourself next time…

- :)

You stare at the note for a solid minute, flipping the page over to see that it was the same paper Dream had used to draw his picture earlier. You tried to figure out what this all meant or even if it meant anything at all. Eventually you give up and head upstairs to rest some more, today had been long and strenuous and if you wanted to get those resources tomorrow you’d need all the rest you could get.

#dream smp #dream smp x reader #dream smp x platonic reader #dsmp x reader #dsmp x platonic reader #dsmp dream #dream x reader #anon ask

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