#hey so like can we stop doing what ever this is

[zephyrchama]

“Don’t,” you warned Lucifer. You saw that self-assured grin on his face. You knew what he was planning.

“What? I just came to see what you were doing.” He leaned on your shoulder with enough weight to tilt you several inches sideways, no matter how much you pushed back. “Don’t mind me, carry on.”

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” you retorted, but it was too late. The others were catching on.

“Hey, hey! What’s going on?” Mammon came over and pushed against your other shoulder, tilting you back upright. “What are two of my favorite people doin’?”

You tried to shrug them both off, to no avail. “We’re not doing anything. We can stop this.”

You couldn’t stop it. Asmodeus was on his way and wasted no time crossing his arms over your back, happily leaning into you from behind. You tilted forward. “Hey! What’s happening here?”

You sighed, “we’re not doing this again.”

Asmodeus teased you with honeyed innocence, “doing what, hon? Something on your mind?”

These three demons thought they were so funny.

A passing Satan made eye contact with you. In that exact moment, you used every bit of imaginary telepathy you could muster. Surely Satan would understand. He could save you. He could free you before it really was too late.

He observed what his brothers were doing, nodded, and approached with a congenial grin. Mission failed.

“Traitor!” You regretted ever agreeing to join this exchange program as Satan slowly fell back into you. You didn’t even try to catch him, you were too busy trying to remain upright under the combined weight of four demons. They were hardly even holding back.

You couldn’t see who was running up, being too busy blowing Satan’s blonde hair out of your face, but at this point it didn’t matter. They were all coming for you.

“Let me in on this!” Leviathan said cheerily.

“Yeah!” “Come on!” Asmodeus and Mammon gladly made some room for Leviathan, which was difficult because you were sinking lower and lower, and you felt another weight pile onto your back as Levi cozied up to your torso. This scenario had played out enough times now that the brothers could somehow keep you from falling over like a Jenga tower, but it was still only a matter of time.

Belphegor squeezed his way in between Satan and Lucifer and wordlessly collapsed onto you as if overcome with narcolepsy. He sure looked cozy. He smirked while you lamented, “I’m never forgiving any of you, ever.”

“Beel? Are you coming?” Lucifer summoned the cherry on top of this ridiculous parfait. You braced as Beelzebub licked the crumbs off his fingers in preparation. He knew what had to be done.

“Are you ready?” At least he had the decency to ask, unlike six other degenerates. The six lumps of dead weight each grabbed a part of your body, shifting from leans to awkward hugs. There was no way to run.

With an exaggerated “hah!”, Beelzebub’s weight and outstretched arms were enough to send everyone crashing down. You were protected from any real damage by the shell of demon brothers, but they soon had you pinned down against someone’s chest in the world’s most embarrassing cuddle pile.

“Aren’t you guys too old for this?” you asked. “By like, ten thousand years?”

“We were just checking up on you,” Lucifer said.

“Yeah, how did this happen? Hmm..!” Asmodeus’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Satan draped his leg over yours and not-so-accidentally kicked Lucifer. “You should have told us what you were doing.”

“I think it’s fun.” Belphegor was the only one to admit the truth.

Hands were running through your hair and over your stomach. Somebody was pushing the edge of your mouth up into a smile with their finger. If these guy were so touch-starved, they could have just said so, like sane people.

“My! What do we have here?”

You groaned, partially because everybody was really heavy and partially because you really didn’t need Diavolo to arrive just then.

“My lord, it appears we have walked in on something quite interesting.” Et tu, Barbatos?

”Indeed! Is there room for two more?”

Your “no!” was drowned out by seven resounding yeses.

#cuddle puddle! cuddle puddle! cuddle puddle! #obey me swd #obey me scenarios #obey me #obey me! #omswd #obey me headcanon #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me fanfic #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me drabble #obey me brothers #obey me fanfiction #obey me fic #obey me brothers x mc #obey me mc #obey me brothers x reader

[pelova4president]

Why so shy?

Jessie Fleming x Reader

summary~ Crushing on someone was a whole lot to deal with, especially when your crush is your teammate and your other teammates are all on it.

You grew up supporting the red side of London. Your father and his father had supporter Arsenal so it was logical for you to be a gooner at heart too. That was until you got scouted by Chelsea.

You didn’t really have to hide that you were an Arsenal fan, you just didn’t bring it up, ever. Your dad and grandpa had already found a solution, supporting Arsenal’s mens team and Chelsea’s women’s. It wasn’t ideal, you knew that but they’ll support you everywhere you’d go.

And even though they did support you in a blue kit, they’d never wear a blue shirt themselves. Whenever they would go and watch your Chelsea games they were dressed in a neutral shirt, your England shirt.

When you got into the blue academy you were a bit shy. You weren’t scared or anything, it was just all new, you didn’t know anyone and well, kids are scary.

But there was Aggie. A blue through and through. She was extroverted, funny and outgoing. Aggie helped you get into the Chelsea spirits and loved to tease you.

Aggie was meant to be Chelsea’s stargirl, you weren’t but somehow you became one alongside your best friend. You were the young blues, the future lays in your hands.

A few months in Beever-Jones found out you were a die hard Arsenal fan and couldn’t stop pestering you about it. You begged her to keep it under wraps, nobody needed to know you pleaded. She wasn’t really about to let it go until you threatened to call her by her real name, Agnes.

So the both of you kept your mouths shut. A good deal for the both of you.

Aggie made her debut when she was just eighteen years old. You were sat in the stands but you might’ve been more nervous and excited for her than she was herself. Aggie kept her cool, she always did but you were stressing away. Your nails had been bitten away by the moment she got subbed in.

After the final whistle had been blown you ran towards her, a bright smile appearing on her face. “You did it Beever!” you cheered jumping into her open arms.

“You’re acting like i scored the winning goal in the Champions League mousey.” Aggie laughed.

“Well, i feel like you just did.” you reacted offended.

Jessie had been part of the senior squad before Aggie and you even got to train with the first team. You were a fan of the midfielder, even thought you would never confess it. You weren’t only a fan of her game but also her beauty. She is very pretty.

Aggie fit right in. She walked into the training ground with you behind her and made some small talk. Erin, Niamh and Aggie seemed like the best of friends. You were used to be by her side at all times and especially now it didn’t help she wasn’t.

Jessie walked over towards you and introduced herself. “Hi i’m Jessie.” she smiled. Jessie Fleming was talking to you and you might melt away.

“Hey- hi i’m mouse, well you know, it’s not my real name but they call me mousey- well you can call me whatever..” you mumbled the last part. God you made a fool of yourself.

Jessie laughed at your rambling and placed her hand on your shoulder. “I know your name mousey.” she smiled.

Jessie Fleming knew your name, your year was made.

“I know who you are too.” you said. Okay that sounded creepy, like stalker creepy. “I- i didn’t mean it like that, not in a weird creepy way. I just know who you are, ‘cus we both play for Chelsea you know?” you tried to recover.

The Canadian only laughed harder at that. “I know what you mean mousey.” she grinned.

And before you could make an even bigger fool of yourself you were stolen away by Aggie. “What were you just doing mouse?” she asked with fake curiosity.

“I was talking to Jessie and i don’t know, it went wrong i think?” you sighed, disappointment shown on your face. You had one job, act normal.

“Yeah well i definitely saw that. Maybe someone’s got a little crush huh?” Aggie winked.

“Ag- Aggie, i don’t have a fucking crush on my teammate.” your brows furrowed.

Your bestfriend backed off. “Okay okay whatever you say mousey.” she shrugged.

Two months in it only got worse. Aggie had forced you to go out with the girls, ‘‘cus that’s what winning teams do’. You never really were a party animal and still aren’t but you’d try your best.

Millie Bright had taken it upon herself to get you a little looser and by that she meant drunk. You were drunk after only a few drinks. You might’ve been embarrassed at how fast you got drunk if you weren’t wasted already.

Getting up from your seat at the bar you made your way to the dance floor, where most of your teammates were located. Aggie was cheering you on as you walked towards her with an excessive swing in your hips.

“Look out everyone, drunk mousey is on the dance floor!” she warned the girls.

Jessie looked up from where she was sat to take a look herself. You were doing all kinds of dances and somehow your very stiff robot was your best.

“What is she doing?” the Canadian asked her Swedish goalkeeper.

Zećira shrugged. “I don’t know, i think she’s trying to dance?” she laughed.

Jessie hummed to herself. She hadn’t seen you like this, ever. The midfielder hadn’t expected you to be such a party animal. You were really shy whenever you talked to her and she never really saw you as an extroverted type.

Jessie had her eyes fixated on you and when an unknown girl came walking towards you her eyebrows furrowed. The girl slipped behind you and began to dance with you. It disturbed her. Why was that girl touching you and why weren’t you telling her off.

“Didn’t know she was such a party girl..” Jessie scoffed.

The goalkeeper looked up from her phone and took a look at you on the dance floor and back at a slightly angry Jessie. “You jealous Fleming?” Zećira asked with a smug grin on her face.

“I’m not jealous, that girl just shouldn’t be touching her. Plus we’ve got training tomorrow.” Jessie answered, her eyes still on you.

The girl behind you was getting more handsy by the second and Jessie wasn’t having it. “And so what if i am?” the older girl grumbled under her breath.

“Then you should do something about it don’t you think grumpy?” Zećira told her.

Jessie took her advice and speed walked towards the heated dance floor. She was pushing through some of her teammates and finally made it towards you.. and that girl.

“She’s not really interested.” Jessie deadpanned.

The girl looked towards you but you just stood still, your cheeks getting even redder than they were before. Jessie was staring her down and she eventually left.

“I think you’re done for tonight mousey. I’ll get you home.” the brunette told you.

It wasn’t like you could argue with her, especially not in your state. You were way too scared to let any words out, in fear that you would say something embarrassing. Nodding your head she escorted you through the crowd and into her car.

“You’re gonna sit there while i’ll say goodbye to everyone.” she ordered you, pointing to her passenger seat. You looked at her with glossy eyes.

“Got it? Don’t do anything stupid please.” you nodded your head and she walked back to the bar.

You weren’t planning on doing anything stupid. It was just that her car horn looked so cool. You couldn’t just sit there and wait until she was back without pushing that button. So you got into her car seat and pushed the button.

You just didn’t expect her to be back so soon. Jessie opened the car door and looked at you. “What did i say mousey!” she grumbled.

“I’m sorry Jessie, i didn’t mean to it just looked so fun.” you pouted at her. She couldn’t be that mad at you right?

Jessie started the car and drove to her apartment. “Where are you taking me to Jessie?” you asked, your eyelids getting heavy.

“I’m driving us to my apartment so i can look after you. Hopefully you won’t do anything stupid this time.” she whispered the last part.

“Jessie jessie you are just like a little bear sometimes. You’re very sweet and soft an- I really like teddy bears so i really like you.” you rambled.

Jessie was intrigued. “Oh yeah? Tell me more, why do you like me mousey?” she asked curiously.

“You’re so nice to me and when you came up to me you were so sexy. You’re so beautiful and stunning and fit.” Jessie was enjoying this way too much. A smirk was appearing on her freckled face.

Jessie parked her black Mercedes. “Hmm, you’re cute.” she hummed.

“You really think so Jessiebear?” you mumbled.

“I really think so mousey.” Jessie said softly before carrying you inside.

#woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #engwnt #chelsea women #chelsea wfc #aggie beever jones x reader #aggie beever jones #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming

[sterredem]

Doubt

Logan sargeant x Piastri!reader

This was a request

Face claim no one

Summary after the Australian Grand Prix Logan begins to doubt himself and lashes out in Y/n

Word count -

Warning angst, break up, not proofread, spelling mistakes

A/N I don’t know the names of Oscar’s sisters so I made it up; we have Olivia, Julie and Amelia. Sorry if that is your name, you can just imagine an other name.

Hate the ending. It was also a bit rushed, so the spelling will NOT be good.

Please repost, comment or give feedback! It helps a lot!❤️

Oscar, Logan and Y/n. Those names were said together a lot. Sometimes various combinations of those three but mostly the three names together with each other. And mostly when it was said it mentioned something good, or funny. But the last few months the combination ‘Logan and Y/n’ is heard a lot more. In the media but also said by other drivers or fans. That is because after years of dating thru finally hard launched. And the word loved it how could they not? They were every good book trope

Childhood best friends, brothers best friend, childhood sweethearts, secret relationships. And the people loved it. But with every relationship came problems, and that was no different with them.

And after the monstrosity that is called the Australian Grand Prix 2024, let’s just say a few things changed.

|———————————<3—————————————|

The Australian Grand Prix, Oscars home race and Logan Sal most home race (or at least it felt like it). The whole Piastri family came to support the two boys. And with the family was, of course, Y/n. Oscars youngest sister (ado his favourite) and Logan’s girlfriend from 10 years (the first few years not being overly serious with that a 13 year old being in a relationship).

But despite the good atmosphere at the beginning of the race weekend that didn’t last the whole weekend. All because of the stupid decision’s of Williams and because of Alex’s crash.

So when the news came out that Logan wouldn’t race and would give Alex his car, it was understandable that Y/n was confused. So when she walked out of the McLaren garage and into the Williams garage for an explanation from Logan. So she walked to his drivers room and knocked on the door before slowly opening it. When she walked in she saw Logan laying down on the massage table. So she slowly walked up to him and touched his shoulder to let him know she was there.

“Hey lo, hoe are you doing? I heard what happens.” She said quietly while he sat up straighter and looked at her.

He mumbled something that she didn’t hear so she asked him to repeat it.

“We need to talk.” Logan said while slowly looking away from his girlfriend.

“Okay…” she said a bit confused while looking at Logan. “What is going on love?” She asked. “Is it something with the race? Do you need something? Do I need to fight someone?” She asked the last bit joking of course (but she would if he asked her to).

“I think we need to break up.” He said getting straight to the point wanting it to be over. He didn’t look at her but instead chose to look around the room.

“What?” She asked confused with his sudden statement. “No, we don’t. Why would you think we would need to break up?” She asked getting more and more confused by the second.

Logan was silent for a second before speaking again. “Let me rephrase; I want to break up with you.” He said more firm while finally looking in her eyes. She looked worst then ever.

“Why? Is it something I did?” She asked straying to stand up.

“No, no. It is all me. You did nothing wrong.” He said while also standing up.

“Then why are you breaking up with me? We have been together through basically everything! Why break up now?” She asked while starting to pace the room, she slowly came to a stop before him. “Don’t you love me anymore? Have you found someone else?” She asks tears beginning to form on her eyes.

“No of course not. I still love you, I just can’t be in a relationship with you. Can’t you just accept that and not be such a bitch about it?!” Logan siad silently whisper screaming the last part to not disturb the other people that could be around them.

“Oh I’m sorry that I want to know why my boyfriend is suddenly breaking up with me on my brothers home race!” She said now almost fully crying. “You know what I don’t even want to know anymore. Goodbye Logan.” She said while walking out of the door and closing it.

She walked out of the Williams garage back to the McLaren one, and as soon as she was there she saw her siblings. She asked towards them with her head low trying to hide her tears. When she did finally reach them they started to ask questions but she just shrugged them off. She asked her sister for the car keys not wanting to be there anymore.

She told them to tell Oscar where she was and that she was sorry for leaving so early. They tried to talk to her but that didn’t really work. So she just left the paddock and drove home. When she was finally there she got up to her room and cried… a lot.

While that all happens Logan was shocked at what he did. Of course he broke up with her but he didn’t think she would just leave. And he was also weeping worst with calling her a bitch.

The whole thing was bad for him; him not being able to race, him breaking up with his girlfriend and everyone staring at him with those damn stupid sympathy looks. This was the start of the worst few weeks- no even months for Logan Sargeant.

|———————————<3—————————————|

When the remaining Piastri family returned home the where curious with what happens to the youngest member. So when Nicole decided to check up on her daughter she didn’t expect to see the door locked and hear sobbing.

“Y/n, sweetie are you alright?” Her mother asked while knocking on the door. “Can you open the door please?” She asked.

Y/n slowly stood up from her bed and walked to the door to unlock it. As soon as she was done she laid down again. “It’s open.” She said a bit muffled because of the pillow she laid her head on.

Her mother walked into the room and saw her daughter upset. She slowly walked to words her and rubbed her back comforting her. Y/n slowly sad up against the headboard and looked at her mom. Her mom saw her teary eyes and brought her in a hug. They didn’t need to speak to know what happened. It was pretty oblivious to Nicole that something happened between her and Logan; she did come back from him crying after all.

“Hey sweetheart, what happened?” Her mother asked wanting to confirm her suspicions about what happened. But before the her daughter could answer there was another knock at the door.

Y/n looked up to see who it was, and it was Oscar. “Hey you alright y/n/n? I heard you left early, I was getting worried.” He said while also waking towards her. “What happened?” He asked wanting to know what happens with his (favourite) sister.

“It’s just… Logan…” she said quietly her voice breaking a bit

“What did he do?” Oscar asked wanting to know what his best friend did to hurt his sister.

“He broke up with me.” She said shocking Oscar and confirming Nicole’s suspicions.

“What? Why?” Oscar asked looked really shocked.

“I don’t know. He just said he wanted to break up. And when I asked why he said i need to ‘stop being a bitch about it’” she said crying more.

“He said that?!” Oscar asked getting more and more shocked with all that she says.

Y/n hummed and layer back down in her bad and put her face in the pillow. “Can you please just leave me alone?” She asked while trying to stop herself from making a sound.

“Oscar can you please leave sweetheart. I will talk with Y/n for a bit. Can you please hale your sisters and dad with setting the table? And can you get Olivia to come upstairs?” Nicole asked her son.

“Yeah, sure.” He said while standing up. He looked at his sister one last time before going downstairs to help the rest of his family and get Olivia to go help cheer his sister up.

After a few minutes Olivia came in Y/n’s room and saw her youngest sister and mum hugging while Y/n was crying.

“Hey y/n/n, Oscar told me what happened. You okay?” Olivia asked while walking in the room and closing the door for some privacy.

“I will be fine. Can we just not talk about it? This weekend is suppose to be about Oscar and the race, not me.” She said while looking at her oldest sister.

“Hey don’t talk like that. Of course it is a special weekend for Oscar, but you are important too. And I know for a fact that he doesn’t care that we give you a little more attention now because Logan is an asshole.” Olivia said. Receiving a look from Nicole at the last part, but they both chose to ignore it.

“I know, but still. Can we just not talk about it now? Maybe it was all a misunderstanding. I just want to enjoy watching our brother race.” Y/n said while wiping her tears away. Nicole and Olivia nodded at that and they walked downstairs.

After Chris, Julie and Amelia gave Y/n a hug they all ate and did not speak about Logan. After they were done eating Y/n went to her room to figure out what to do with her life while the rest stoot up a little longer to just talk before going to sleep.

|———————————<3—————————————|

After the Australian Grand Prix, and Y/n avoiding Logan at all cost, they didn’t see each other for a while. That was because while some people may have free time, Y/n still had school and while she normally would would do it online to see Logan and Oscar race, now after the break up she devoted that it was smarter to just attend school in real life and have social contact with more people her age.

So the next time that they where close to each other again was the China Grand Prix, either her being there for Oscar’s birthday.

And while they where both exited with her being there looking back at it it maybe wasn’t the best idea. Because while Y/n was still in a heartbreak after the break up, Logan seemed to be fine, and moving on.

Because when Y/b was in the McLaren garage with Oscar and Lilly Oscar walked in the paddock with a girl… yeah, it seemed that he moved on.

After the pure torture that was watching Logan and the girl for the whole weekend Y/n chose to see what was going on. She knows that they broke up but she could get answers, right?

So after the race and the whole after ritual she de devoted to go back to the hotel, where Logan was also staying. She had asked Alex and Lilly (Alex’s girlfriend) what his room number was and they happily said it (not enjoying the whining that Logan did all the time).

So she walked to the room and knocked on the door.

Logan opens it.

They looked at each other.

And she slapped him.

He looked shocked.

But honestly, he deserved it.

“Come inside?” Logan asked hesitantly, not knowing what to do after she had slapped him.

“Is there anyone else?” She asked wanting to know if the girl was with him.

“Nope. All alone.” He said opening the door wider to let her in.

They both walked in the room and Logan walked to the kitchen and stood against the island. And Y/n begin talking.

“You know, I am not sorry for the slap. You are such an asshole to me. You break up, call me a bitch, don’t give me an explanation for either of them and then you show up with some other girl?! What the fuck Logan? You can’t do that to me! And i know that I will just forgive you cause I love you!… and that is the first I have said it and we are broken up and you have someone else and… ugh! It is all unfair. All I wanted to do is just comfort my boyfriend and than all this happened and now my life is shirk! And I miss you, and I just want you back, but I can’t have you back because you have already moved on. But I still love you and it’s not fair and-“ before she could continue her rambling she felt something in her lips.

Logan was kissing her.

He still liked her.

He is kissing her!

And it felt better then ever.

And of course she kissed back.

“Please shut up” Logan said after parting away from her lips. “I can explain just please, shut up.” He said with a smile on his face while looking at her.

“Okay so explain.” Y/n said still in a bit of a daze at the kiss.

“Okay so; the girl is just a friend, she really loves F1 so I gave her one off my paddock passes so she could have the full experience. There is nothing going on between us. And yes I did diserve the slap, I really was an ass to you, but I promise I have an explanation.

After what happened at Australia I begin to doubt myself and then I realised that you deserve better, so I broke up with you. Is was an impulsive and stupid decision I know that, and I’m sorry. And I am also so so sorry for that I called you a bitch, it was just that I was really stressed and angry at, well everything and I just lachend out at you. And again I am so sorry for everything. Can you please forgive me? I want you back again. And I love you too.” Logan rambled.

Y/n looked at him for a second before responding. “I also really want you back, but we can’t jump right back at where we where. I need some time. And I want to be with you and I can’t bear to be without you for any longer. So how about this; we get back together, but slowly. We will be a couple and all but we won’t move at an incredible fast pace, I still need to fully trust that you won’t just break up with me after an other thing happens. And the next time something big is going on, either ether of us; we talk.” She explained while grabbing his hand.

“Yeah, I’m okay with that. Everything to be with you again. And now Oscar can finally shut up with looking at me like I killed his cat or something.” Logan said relieved that he and his best friend could also make up after Oscar ignoring him and shooting him dirty glances all the time.

“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I said he should stop it but he didn’t listen.” y/n laughed.

“So… you want to go out to eat something now that we are together again?” Logan asked grabbing his girlfriends hand.

“Yeah for sure.” Yang/n smiled at him.

|———————————<3—————————————|

#formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #logan sargent x reader #logan sergeant x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargent fluff #logan sargeant angst #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #ls2 x you #ls2 fluff #ls2 fic #ls2 imagine #ls2 x reader #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 angst #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri x you #Oscar piastri x sister!reader #piastri!reader #oscar piastri imagine

[pbueckerslover]

treat you better - p.b.

warnings: smut!! (18+)

pairing(s): paige bueckers x female!reader

summary: paige wants to show you what you’ve been missing out on.

you and paige have been best friends for as long as you can remember. you are always there for each other and there isn’t anything you two wouldn’t do for each other. for the past two years you have been dating your boyfriend, daniel. paige has always hated him and not just because she likes you, but she can tell that he’s just not good for you.

you were just with him and things did not go very well. you both screamed at each other for what felt like eternity because he wasn’t even paying attention to you when you were talking to him. you started going off on a tangent about how he’s never treated you right throughout your whole relationship and it ended with the two of you breaking up. once you get back home the first thing you do is breakdown, you can’t even believe what just happened but you know it’s for the better. not being able to control it your tears just keep streaming down your face. the only thing you can think of doing is texting paige.

you: hey i’m sorry to bother you but can i come over?

paige: hey ofc no worries! everything alright?

you: thanks, i’ll explain when i get there.

you try to freshen yourself up and grab a couple things before you head out the door. you start making your way to paige and once you get there you knock on the door. she opens it to see you with puffy eyes and immediately starts to worry. “hey! what’s going on?” she asks as i walk inside. i sit down on her bed and try to get the words out. “daniel broke up with me.” i say as i look down at the floor. “what? are you serious?” i look at her and nod. “shit… i’m so sorry. what happened?”

“we were hanging out and he was just being an asshole and it led to this whole argument, then he told me that we shouldn’t be together anymore because he can find someone better.” i say as i look back down to my feet trying to stop myself from crying in front of her. she walks over to me and kneels down in front of me. “i’m really sorry. he’s a fucking dick and you know he’s wrong right?” she says looking at me. i look up at her. “what do you mean?” i ask confused. “he could never find somebody better than you. he didn’t fucking deserve you and you’re the one who deserves better.” she says as she rests her hand on my cheek and makes me look into her eyes.

“you don’t mean that.” i say staring at her in disbelief. “yes i do. you are seriously the best person i’ve ever met and you deserve someone who will treat you like the only girl in the world.” i can’t even believe she’s saying this to me right now. “paige…” i whisper not really knowing what to say next. she moves from her spot and gets up to sit down next to me. “that’s just how i feel i just want you to know the way he treated you was not okay and you really deserve more.” she says looking at me again. “you know what? you’re so right!” i say as i lay down onto the bed. she copies my actions and lays down next to me. i turn to look at her, “thank you paige you’re the best.” i say smiling. “can i tell you something?” i ask her. “anything.” she replies. “he never even made me cum. not even once.” i say as i start to giggle.

“are you serious?” she asks as her jaw practically drops to the floor because how could he have someone like you and not even know how to make you feel good. “yeah… the only thing he would do is fuck me and i mean it’s nice or whatever but i would’ve liked other things too you know?” i say as i turn to look at her and she’s already looking at me. “so you’re telling me he never even eaten you out? or touched your boobs?” she asks and i start to blush a little because i didn’t realize how awkward having this conversation with her would be. “nope.” i say as i turn away from her trying to avoid eye contact. but suddenly she’s grabbing my face and making me look into her eyes again. we stare at each other for a second before she’s crashing her lips onto mine.

she starts to get more aggressive and before i know it she’s on top of me kissing down my neck. she starts to play with the hem of my shirt before asking if she can take it off. i nod as she slips the fabric over my head and stares at my tits in just my bra. “want to show you what you’ve been missing. i could treat you so much better than he ever did.” as soon as those words come out of her mouth she’s removing my bra and throwing it to the floor. she looks at me again, “this okay?” i nod but she’s not satisfied. “use your words baby.” she says and she grabs my cheek. “yes paige, please i want you to do anything you want to me.” i say and she starts to play with my nipples using her fingers. i let out a soft moan and soon her fingers are replaced with her mouth. she moves from my tits to my stomach kissing all the way down to the hem of my pants. “can i take these off?” she asks looking up at me. “yes baby please.” i say and she starts to remove my pants along with my underwear.

“god you’re so beautiful.” she says as she stares at me taking it all in. “been wanting this for so long.” she says. “me too paige.” i say looking down at her to see her smiling back at me. before i know it she’s kissing up my thighs and a second later her tongue is on my clit. “mmm feels so good paige.” i say as she starts to pick up the pace using her tongue and fingers to bring me to my climax. “you’re doing so good baby.” she says as she continues to swirl her tongue around my folds. “mm i’m gonna cum.” i say as a warning. “do it baby i want you to cum all over my fingers.” she whispers as i do just that, releasing all over her fingers.

she pulls away from me and moves to lay back down beside me. “you did so good ma.” she says as she looks at me out of breath. “paige.. that was fucking amazing.” i say as she smiles at me. “‘m glad baby i told you you deserve so much better.” she says as she places a kiss to my forehead. i smile at her as she wraps her arms around me.

“thank you paige.” i whisper into her ear as i rest my head into the nuzzle of her neck. “just want you to be happy.” she replies and rubs her hands up and down my back.

“could only ever be happy with you.” i say as i start to fall asleep. she places another kiss to my forehead and minutes later we’re both sleeping.

notes: hope you guys enjoyed!! it took me like 3 days to finish this but i’m happy to finally be posting it! lmk if you have any more suggestions for paige fics bc i love writing them 💌💌

dividers - @cafekitsune <3

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers headcannons #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #wlw

[buckttommy]

and if i said i was thinking about bucktommy body worship what then.

i just. we know tommy worships the hell out of buck's body. gets him naked and then takes his sloooow, sweet time mapping out every inch of him. but god. god. buck gets that man naked in his sheets and commits his life for the next hour to learning every molecule that makes tommy kinard who he is. he starts with his face (his favorite part of him, actually). and kisses his forehead, his nose, his eyelids, his cheeks, his mouth, that cleft in his chin he goes so crazy for and then kisses a little lower. kisses the bolt of his jaw on both sides and kisses his way across his neck like a necklace. kisses lower still—clavicle, shoulders, arms, pectorals, nipples. now, i have a headcanon that tommy has sensitive nipples, because why not, so this is the point where his cock goes from kinda interested to pretty damn eager.

and he gets his hand in buck's hair to try to tug him up to his mouth (and buck goes, happily!) but then he goes right back to kissing and licking his way down tommy's body. abdomen, dips his tongue in his navel cos he likes the noise his boyfriend makes when he does and goes lower. hips, left thigh, right thigh. tommy is breathing heavily, chest heaving, his dick hard and leaking onto his stomach. despite what people might think when they look at him, tommy is not above begging. and so he begs for buck to do something ("evan, evan, come on, baby, please") and buck gets his mouth on him. kisses the head of his cock, kisses his way down the shaft to his balls, just feeling him, tasting him. and it's so much but it's not enough and tommy feels like he's going crazy. because then buck keeps going. moves his mouth from his cock altogether and goes back to worshipping his body —his old-man knees tommy always complains about, down to his shins, his ankles, his feet.

and like. tommy has never been this turned on in his life, which is saying a lot. so buck climbs back up his body and kisses him again. tells him to turn over (which he does) and then goes right back to it. and the pressure against his cock feels so good, feels amazing actually, after having been turned on and teased for what's gotta be almost an hour at this point. so tommy's giving these little thrusts into the mattress as buck kisses his way down his spine, bites at his hips, sucks hickeys into the swell of his ass cheeks. and tommy's like, near tears because it feels good, right, but it's also just... overwhelming. he's never been studied like this before. no one's ever cared to be this tender with him. he's had some good boyfriends, but.. no one's evan buckley, tbh, and at some point buck realizes that tommy is overwhelmed because he stops and raises his head and climbs up his body again and lays beside him and is like "hey" and tommy's like "hi" and there are tears staining the pillow but he's not sobbing, they're just falling. and buck is like "i love you" and tommy is like "yeah" because he loves him too and is really just too overwhelmed to give more than one-word answers or nods and buck smiles a little because he knows it.

and then he gets him to roll over onto his back because he wants to see his face when he... i was going to say when he fucks him, but this is just straight up making love at this point. they are making love and it's beautiful and intense the way neither of them can run from each other's eyes, the way neither of them want to, and tommy comes so hard it honestly shocks him a little because they've had good sex before —like. really good sex —but this was something entirely different. this was being cherished on what feels like a molecular level and that's kind of wild to him. anyway. buck comes almost immediately after him and flops down beside him and kisses him softly while their cocks soften, and no other words are spoken because no other words are needed and. yeah. yeah. bucktommy body worship

#if you need me i'll be thinking about this the rest of my life oh my GOD #i can't breathe actually. #anyways #bucktommy #tv: 911 #jack.txt

[deathbecomesthem]

Kiss The Cook 5 | 1.5K

Linecook!Eddie Munson x Server!Reader

18+ ONLY, MDNI with any of my work.

Summary: Eddie and Server get deep into their heads when we decide he might be able to sell us weed.

We get a couple hundred words of an Eddie POV here.

---

Keith, your ex, had a weed man. The years that you were with Keith, you could hand him some cash, and 24 hours later you’d have a few pre-rolled joints and some loose bud for your pipe. For all you knew, Keith was actually the weed man, because you never got to meet the guy on the other side of the transaction. It was easy. It was nice. It was one of the reasons you kept Keith around longer than a person with good sense should have. 

You know Eddie smokes weed, it’s hard to mistake that smell hiding under the soap, deodorant, and laundry detergent. You also suspect that he at least dabbles in selling. It’s not that you’ve seen any money or drugs changing hands at the diner. You think Benny would probably drag Eddie out of the place by his hair if he ever caught wind of that, and Eddie respects Benny too much to take advantage of his place like that. It’s the people he knows. It’s the way he leans in to listen to a friend when he stops by. The way he says, “Come by at 8 and I’ll have your stuff for you,” before slapping their shoulders and grinning.

You have a lot of regrets about your time with Keith, but the biggest regret is not asking him to explain how to acquire marijuana. Yes, Eddie has the drugs you want. Yes, he will probably sell to you. Yes, you have cash. No, you have no idea how to use that information to actually get the weed in your hand. You consider doing what the guys that stop by do, you can almost imagine yourself leaning in close so that the hair that hangs around his ears would tickle your nose. You’d say -

-what, exactly? Hey, can I buy some pot from you? No, that won’t work. You’re standing inside the small stock room at the back of the restaurant, staring at the folded up bar towels fresh from the laundry service while you ponder how to buy drugs from the line cook you definitely don’t have feelings for. You definitely didn’t go out with him a few nights ago for the first time ever, and it definitely wasn’t abso-fucking-lutely impossible to read how he feels about you. You should be in the dining room right now bussing the dirty tables left after the lunch rush, it’s only an hour to close. Instead, you stand and look at the terry cloth rags, frozen with a feeling of anxiety that isn’t warranted by your current situation. You realize you’re worried that Eddie would think you’re uncool if you ask him the wrong way - an idea that makes you cringe at your own stupidity.

“Idiot,” you mutter to yourself under your breath before reaching out and finally grabbing two towels and the bottle of spray cleaner on the shelf next to them.

“Who’s an idiot?” Eddie’s question makes you jump. Your brain processes that he’s standing behind you, and you wonder if you said anything else you were thinking out loud instead within the safe confines of your skull. He’s standing too close when you turn to face him, you lean back a little to give yourself the room to answer him.

“Just me, I’m an idiot.” You answer as you sidle past his imposing frame. He follows you back into the kitchen empty handed, apparently forgetting whatever it was that drove him into the stock room in the first place.

“Are you ok? What happened? Did that guy do something again?” Eddie’s sounding upset. Concerned. Last week one of your regulars put his hand on your ass, and it shook you up pretty good. You didn’t tell Eddie about it until days later, after you’d already warned the guy that if he came back, you’d break his hand. You’d been worried that Eddie, or Benny, would do something profoundly stupid if they saw him in the diner again.

“No, that guy won’t be back. It’s nothing like that,” you turn back around and find him standing too close again. You step back, “I’m just being an idiot. It happens sometimes. Let’s just get the fuck out of here, ok?”

Eddie’s eyes probe your face, looking for any hint of something more serious than what you’ve told him. It makes you feel warm. It makes you want to pull the neck of your shirt up over your nose to hide yourself from his gaze. He doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort, just nods his head, puts up a hand, and heads back to the kitchen.

The next 90 minutes is spent with you both performing your well rehearsed dance, though you find yourself a little out of step. Your mind is occupied, playing and replaying scenarios in your head. The idea that you need to buy weed from Eddie isn’t a flight of fancy anymore, it’s a looming cloud of uncertainty. It’s when you’re refilling the ketchup bottles that you realize what has to be done, and a weight is lifted. Because it’s not even about the weed anymore, it’s about you and Eddie. It’s about getting out of your head and talking to him without worrying about how he’ll think of you. It’s about letting yourself see where this thing might go, even if it means you end traveling as far as a closer friendship.

“Eddie,” you call behind your shoulder as you finish wiping down the counter between the bar and the line, “do you sell weed?”

“Me? Sell weed?” You can hear him scoffing along with the sound of him stacking the plates from the last load of dishes. “Yeah, of course I do.”

“Let’s talk after work.”

—

Talk. That’s what it is. A casual conversation where neither you nor Eddie know your roles. Those simple transactions are easy for him. Friendly. But when it comes to you, he’s tongue tied. He has a hard time listening to what you’re saying. You don’t know it, but right now he’s distracted by the way he can see the indents on your bottom lip. He’s seen your lip pulled into your mouth, absentmindedly biting down, on moments of concentration. It’s all he can see, it’s all he can think about. So, this simple transaction where he gets your order, just like when he’s working the line in the kitchen through the door behind your back, it’s a mindless task. But those marks on your lip.

“...so I thought, ‘what the hell’, ya know? Eddie’s not gonna be a dick to me. Judge me, maybe, but no more than he does when I order a reuben with provolone instead of swiss.”

Eddie tuned in at the wrong moment, because the context for what you’re asking of him is lost in your rambling. He has no fucking clue what you’re talking about. He nods every so often when you look at him, obviously hoping for some kind of affirmation. Sure, whatever you want. Have I told you how much I like the way your smile is crooked? The left side shoots up higher than the right, and I think about kissing you there every time I see it. Eddie nods again, noticing that sneaky crawl of your lip.

“-Ok, so why don’t you just come over? You know where my place is, right? Just come over right now and we’ll figure this shit out.” Eddie asks. He doesn’t know it, but his entire face is open to you. Head dipped down so that he’s looking up at you. Head cocked at the position of a kiss. His mouth is closed, full lips lightly pressed together.

Eddie thinks the world has stopped turning. The moment after the words leave his lips pauses. Everything is slowed down to a single second. He can see the exact millisecond when the words register in your brain and you begin to consider them. He’s a scholar when it comes to the ways you face moves. He can tell when you’ve not slept well in the morning, he can predict your menstrual cycle down to within 24 hours of the first cramp. He’s watching the crease between your eyes. He’s watching the bridge of your nose. He sees it all, and holds his breath. His feet can feel the hard asphalt as he walks to his car, to run from the “no” that might be coming. He’s ready, your lips part, and your chest expands. You’re going to say -

“Sure,” your words are accompanied by a lifting of the corner of the side of your mouth, “I’ll follow you home.”

---

Taglist: @taccobelle @starksbabie @sheneedsrocknroll92

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #linecook!eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson series #eddie munson au #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagines

[prettyg1irlstears]

Can you make a blurb were the reader ends up becoming pregnant and the father leaves but bff! Rafe steps up and helps her through pregnancy/raising the child.

omg :(( lmk if you want a part 2 :)

rafe’s soul almost leaves his body when he opens the door and sees you with tears all over your face. “what happened?”

“i—i’m.. h—he.. i..” you try to say but your panic and tears don’t let you. rafe immediately has a hand on your back and leads you to his couch, closing the door with his foot.

“hey.. hey, calm down, yeah? just breathe..” he guides you as you sit down on the couch, sniffling.

a few minutes pass and you eventually calm down. that was always one of rafe’s superpower; calming you down when noone else could. “now take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on, yeah?”

“i’m pregnant..” you whisper and those words are like daggers to rafe’s stomach. his heart tugs as he brushes his hand through his own hair.

“that fucker knocked you up? oh my god, y/n..” he starts to panic a little, but takes a deep breath. “fuck, y/n, did you not use protection or what?”

“we did! we did,” you defend yourself. you just want to cry again, to curl up into a bowl and die. “but it.. it broke.”

rafe sighs, knowing that unfortunately, shit like this happens. he read once that condoms are only 87% effective when he bought them. seems like you’re in the 13%. “alright, alright, uh.. did you tell him?”

you just nod quietly, trying not to break into tears again. “h-he said.. he said ‘god knows who did that to you’”

“oh that motherfu—” rafe stops, knowing that it wouldn’t help anything if he got angry. “alright, look, i.. i’m here, yeah? and i won’t leave like him. yeah? i won’t.”

you immediately hug him, head burying into his chest. “rafe i’m so scared..” you whisper, hands gripping his shirt tight as if you would fall if you let go.

“i know.. i know, y/n..” he whispers into your hair. “we’ll figure it out, yeah? just know i’ll support you no matter what your choice is, alright? i’m here..”

you sniffle into his chest, and he can feel your body getting heavy as you lean into him more. “alright, let’s get you to bed, yeah? we’ll talk about it in the morning. come on.”

he takes you in his arms and leads you into his room. you insisted on him sleeping next to you that night, even though he offered to take the couch. you just needed to feel protected and safe, something your boyfriend couldn’t do.

when you fall aslep in rafe’s arms, he just kisses your hair and looks at you. his heart tugs at the thought that your boyfriend who got you into this situation left you. what a fucking pussy. he was already thinking about finding him and beating the shit out of him. not that he’ll ever tell you.

divider creds here

#blurbs𐙚 #rafe cameron #drew starkey #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine #prettyg1rlstears #bsf!rafe

[brenwritesss]

I'm Yours

Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: Paige and reader have been in a situationship for the past few months but reader is nervous to take it to the next step. A night out at the club forces reader to tell her how she really feels.

“Damnit, Paige,” you said, sighing as you shifted seating positions, trying to play your video game. You and Paige had known each other since freshman year at UConn, both being enrolled in the same English course. You both had hit it off instantly since you were working on a group project together. You had always thought she was gorgeous, complimenting her whenever you could. 

And you weren’t oblivious; you knew Paige would flirt with you too even though you just shrugged it off, believing that’s how she is. Paige and you became really close throughout the years, and being best friends had become harder for you when you had to watch her flirt with other girls the same way she did with you. Then things were different. And you noticed that your eye contact became longer, her touches lingered longer on your skin, and her flirting with other girls stopped. Everyone on her team knew you both liked each other, so with some help from Nika, Paige finally made a move on your 21st birthday, resulting in you two hooking up in her bedroom. 

Since then, things have been going well between the two of you. Paige had confessed feelings for you and you did the same. It had been a couple months since then and you weren’t dating, but Paige had made it clear that’s what she wanted.

“What?” Paige chuckled, her hand gripping tighter around your thigh.

You placed your game controller down next to you, turning to look at her. “I can’t focus when your hand is on my leg.”

“Not my problem.”

“Paige.”

“Fine,” she said, taking her hand away but her eyes were still on you. You picked up the controller and continued playing, still feeling her stare. You knew what was going to happen. She was gonna ask you about what this was between you and then you had to try your best to find a new answer. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to date her, of course you did. But being friends with Paige for so long, you had seen how she was with other girls, how she was with her past situationships. Not to mention the fact that just months before hooking up with her, you broke up with your ex girlfriend who had cheated on you. You didn’t want to go through pain like that again, even though Paige wouldn’t cheat on you, it was something you were scared of.

“Hey,” Paige whispered and gently took the controller out of your hands. You didn’t do anything other than look at your hands. She used one of her own to move head so that you were now looking at her. “Y/n, what the fuck are we doing?”

You took her in, her blue eyes making you feel like a goddess. Her blonde hair perfectly draped in soft curls past her shoulders. She was wearing a black shirt and gray sweatpants and even in such comfortable clothing, she was one of the prettiest girls you’d ever met. You smiled softly, “you’re watching me play fortnite.”

Paige wasn’t amused. “Very funny. I’m being serious.”

You shrugged. “Look, I know what you want. I told you I need time to get there and I’m sorry it’s taking me a while, but you know how I feel about you.”

“Do I?” Paige’s response caught you off guard, making you raise your eyebrows. “You tell me how much you like me and how much you want me yet you don’t want to be my girlfriend.”

“No, that’s not it at all.”

Paige stood up from the couch. Anger clearly written on her face. “You only tell me how much you want me when you want me to fuck you. I mean, we already do things that people who are actually dating do, so I don’t know what the hell the big deal is.”

“So what, you think I’m using you for sex?” you ask her, shaking your head. Of course you didn’t use her like that. You didn’t realize that’s how she felt at all.

Paige responded, “well, can you blame me for thinking that?”

You stood up and walked towards her, taking her hands in yours. “I never want you to feel that way, Paige. I’m sorry I made it seem like that.”

“I know,” she said and took her hands out of your grasp, “but I can’t keep doing this. You either want me or you don’t. I’ve told you a million times I want to make you mine and I never get a clear answer.”

“Paige.”

Paige grabbed her phone from the couch and walked towards the door. “Text me when you figure out whatever the hell it is that you want.”

You rushed to her to get her to stay but she had already shut the door by the time you got there. You didn’t just lose her right? Did you just fuck everything up? You tried your best to control your breathing in order to stop yourself from crying. You should have gone after her but you didn’t know if it would make things worse. 

Instead, you walked into your bedroom, waiting until your roommate returned home. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It had been a few days since Paige walked out and you haven’t spoken to or seen her since. You had told your roommate about what happened and she told you to tell Paige how you really felt. You never really liked talking about your feelings since you were young and it scared you. However, your roommate assured you that if you wanted Paige to understand you, you had to be an adult and act like one. Thank god for her.

And she could tell that you needed a night where you could let loose and take your mind off of Paige. So she took you along with some other friends to a club, hoping it would help. “Okay Y/n, take a shot,” she ordered, holding shot glass in front of your face. You looked up at her and shoved her hand away.

“I don’t feel like drinking.”

She sat down next to you, her arm draping around your bare shoulders. “You’ve been in a slump for the past few days. Please take a shot. We’re here to have fun, remember?”

“I remember.” You took the shot glass, looking around the club. “Fine.”

The liquid burned the back of your throat while all of your friends cheered you on. You rubbed your hands on your small black dress and then grabbed your best friend’s hand. “Let’s go dance.”

Your friend followed you and for what seemed like hours, but had only been fifteen minutes, the two of you danced together and laughed. She was always your go-to dancing partner but right now, your heart ached, wishing it was someone else. A blonde basketball player.

If you had just told her how you really felt, this could have all been avoided and you two could have been here together, dancing. You wanted her to look you in the eyes and hold you like no one else ever had before. God, you missed her. 

Suddenly, you backed into someone by accident. Muttering ‘sorries’, you both turned to look at each other. “Y/n?”

“Oh shit, Madison?” You were facing your ex-girlfriend. The one who had cheated on you months before you started seeing Paige.

“You look good,” she said, smiling at you while the music blared in the background.

“Thanks.” You moved a strand of your hair away from your face. “It’s good to see you. Sorry for bumping into you.”

You turned to move away from her and to find your friend but she had stopped you. “Hey, you wanna catch up? I’ll order you a drink.”

You looked at her confused. “Thanks, but I’m here with friends so I should really get back to them.”

She laughed, “c’mon, it’s just one drink. If I remember correctly, you can never turn down a dirty shirley.”

One drink couldn’t hurt. Right?

“Sure.”

She led you to the bar, ordering you a drink and pulling out one of the stools for you to sit on. You thanked her and she stayed looking at you, making you feel weird, as if you shouldn’t be with her.

“So, how have you been?”

“Pretty good, actually. I just moved into a new apartment with my best friend so life is pretty chill right now,” you explained and she nodded, taking a sip of her drink.

“That’s awesome. Yeah, my girlfriend and I talked about moving in together. Won’t be for a long while, though.”

“Girlfriend?” You asked her, grabbing hold of your dirty shirley. You were unaware that she was dating someone new.

She looked down at the floor, clearing her throat. “Yeah, uhm Emily and I started dating three months ago.” 

You took a deep breath. Emily was the girl Madison had cheated on you with. “Wow, I’m uh happy for you.” You forced a smile.

“Thank you,” she said. She put her drink down and moved closer towards you. “Hey, I want to apologize for what I did to you. I know it was shitty and I hurt you. You didn’t deserve that at all.”

This was the first time she had ever apologized. Even when you find out, she never took accountability which was another reason why you were so pissed and hurt. So this meant a lot to you. “Thanks for apologizing. I know I wasn’t the greatest girlfriend but damn, that was really fucked.”

Madison let out a laugh, “no fucking shit.”

“Why’d you do it?”

Madison sighed, “because we weren’t working and I was scared of saying something. And I didn’t want to lose you so I thought that if I did what I did, I could still have you. I know I should have told you how I felt but I didn’t want to own up to my own feelings.”

You nodded, trying to process what she was saying. “It really fucked me up, you know.”

“I know and I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing if I need to. And I hope you can forgive me. If I could go back, you know I’d never do it.”

“I know.”

“So, friends?” she asked, nudging you with her fist. 

“Friends.” You fist bumped her, resulting in the two of you laughing. You finally got the closure you needed with Madison and it made you feel really good. As if a weight was lifted off of your shoulders.

“Hey Y/n,” she whispered, causing you to look at her. “Why is Paige Bueckers staring me down like she wants to kill me?”

“What?” You whipped your head towards your right and stood across the club was Paige, a drink in her hand and Aubrey standing next to her. Aubrey was saying something to Paige when you both made eye contact. You realized then what it had looked like. That you were there at the club with your ex-girlfriend. The same ex-girlfriend that Paige grew to hate after she had spent days comforting you when she cheated on you.

Paige set down her drink and walked away. You wasted no time in following after her, trying to get her to stop walking. “Paige, wait.” You were both now outside the building when she continued walking. “Paige, I promise it was not what it looked like.”

Paige stopped, turning around. Your breath hitched. You hadn’t been this close to her in days. You took in the sight of her, wanting to run into her arms. “So you want me to believe you weren’t here with her?”

You walked slowly towards her. “I wasn’t. I was here with my friends and we bumped into each other. What you saw at the bar was just her apologizing for what she did. Nothing else.”

“And what you forgave her? Do you remember what she fucking did to you? I had to watch you cry over her for days and I held you to try to go to sleep because you couldn’t sleep on your own because of her. And everything’s fine now?” Her voice raised.

You took in all of her words. “I can’t hate her anymore, Paige. Anyway, that’s not the point,” you said and she looked at you confused. “I should have gone after you when you left my place but I was scared. I do want to be your girlfriend, you have no idea. I’m scared that I won’t be a good one. That’s why I keep pushing you away.”

Paige’s expression softened. “You could have told me.”

“I should have, I know. But I’m doing it now.” You were now close to her and she watched your every move. “I do want to be with you. And when I’m not around you, I miss you like crazy. These past few months haven’t meant nothing to me. They’ve been everything to me. Please give me another chance.”

Paige stayed silent and you worried yourself for what you thought her response would be. “You’re all I can think about, Y/n. I want you to be my girlfriend but I don’t want to force you into it if that’s not what you want.”

“No,” you said, “I really want that. I’m yours in every way you want.”

“Fuck,” she muttered before crashing her lips onto yours, her hands wrapped around your waist. “I’m yours too.”

#paige bueckers #wcbb #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #nika muhl #nika mühl #paige buckets #wnba #paige bueckers x reader #uconn #paige bueckers x oc

[thegildedbee]

Familiar/Fall: May 3 & May 4 Prompts from @calaisreno

I've been knocked off my feet at comments some of y'all have shared ❤️🌞🌺(so I've added some tags if you want to keep following along -- let me know, though, if you'd prefer not to have your stream cluttered :-) Program note: So the comments have surprised me into doing something I hadn't thought to do with @calaisreno's daily-merrie-month-of-May-party-invites: incubate a fic. So, full disclosure, seat of the pants improvising is the order of the day! There's no storyline tucked away in my pocket, not even a hazy 🌫️ one -- I'll be making this up as I go along 🤔, responding to the first thing that pops into my head with the prompts (so the timeline will be bouncing around and I will likely be working myself into puzzles I can't get out of 😰) But, hey, if you're game, so am I, you crazy kids! 😜 .............................................................................................

"John, right on time,” Lestrade says, waving him in after hearing the knock at his office door.

John steps across the threshold and pauses, tilting his head to gesture at the door. 

“Right,” Lestrade replies, with a quick nod at the unvoiced question. “Turn the lock.” He shuts down the computer window that's open on his screen, and walks over to John and grasps his good shoulder.

“This is really happening, then?” he asks, scanning John’s face intently.

“It really is,” John confirms, pushing his shoulders back slightly and reflexively straightening his already straightened posture. “I’ll be leaving for parts unknown in two days' time, so I’ve been doing not much else -- even sleeping -- except cramming the prep. As we suspected, Mycroft tries to arrange for local operatives as back-up for Sherlock -- that is, when he knows where he is, or where he might be headed, which is often not the case -- but I’ll be a roving asset, one that he won’t ever meet face-to-face.”

“A shadow,” Lestrade offers.

“Yeah, something like that. As far as Sherlock will know, I’m still in London. Mycroft has stripped the metadata from stills he's pulled from CCTV footage that he can use to send to Sherlock if he asks for an update on my status.”

Lestrade takes that in, and then nods his head. “No time to waste. Let’s get what you came for, and send you back out to do whatever needs doing before you leave.”

Slipping on a pair of nitrile gloves, Lestrade walks over to a bank of filing cabinets at the back of the room, moving swiftly to pull out and fully extend the second drawer from the bottom of the second unit on the right. He barely glances at the contents, reaching toward the back for a horizontally stacked set of folders, which he lifts up and sets aside. He then retrieves a small black steel case that’s been revealed and sets it on a nearby table, and beckons for John to join him, pulling another set of gloves from his pocket and holding them out for him to use. 

Lestrade pulls a blank file folder from the bottom of the stack he’d removed and opens it, revealing a small key taped inside, which he detaches and hands to John.

“Thanks, mate,” John says, a slight catch in his voice, “for keeping it safe . . . and for returning it.” He raises his fist to his mouth and coughs into it briefly, which allows him to pause and regain his composure. “I know this wasn’t a by-the-book decision,” he acknowledges.

Lestrade snorts. “That’s one way of putting it,” he says, giving a shrug. John touches his elbow, and says insistently, “It was a risk for you, a real one. Don’t think I don’t know that. Once I walk through the door we’ll forget it ever happened. Although I won’t ever forget you standing by me.” 

John uses the key to open the steel box, and stops to gaze at the Sig P226 before he picks it up. He palms the grip, the familiar feel of its shape and of its weight in his hand a comforting one. He briefly disassembles it, then reassembles it, giving it another long look. Hello, comrade. We took out the first henchman Moriarty set at Sherlock, and, when the time comes, we’ll finish the game and take out the last one as well.

John furrows his forehead and looks at Lestrade, his expression fading from determination to being at a loss, saying in a lowered voice, “And thanks for taking it away from me when you did. You’re a damn smart copper, Greg, and a damn fine friend. I owe you.”

“Ah, hell, John, no,” Lestrade protests, throwing up his hands. “That you were in such a dark place is partly down to my own participation in the whole bloody shitshow at 221B,” he says, a pained look on his face.

John places the Sig at the small of his back, and looks down at his shoes, pausing for a moment before turning to Lestrade, and saying harshly, “We were pawns, Greg. Pawns of all of them: Moriarty, Mycroft, MI6. All of us were trapped in a knotted-up web they were weaving as they pulled the strings. It was a struggle to even begin to figure how to get out in front of any of it.” He squeezes his eyes shut, and sighs. "It was a colossal clusterfuck.”

The two men look at each other, somber, each recalling, in retrospect, what they can now understand counted and what didn’t, what they should have seen but had failed to recognize, and how the seemingly solid facts they thought were in their grasp had liquefied, running through their fingers, leaving only emptiness behind.

Leaning his hip against the table, John crosses his arms across his chest, and says evenly, “And Sherlock, too. I try to imagine what it was like in his brain in the days before Bart’s, running scenarios and switching-out variables, over and over, unable to fight his way out of a tangle of nets and hooks, trying to find the surface. 

“We didn’t know . . . but when he fell . . . from Bart’s roof,” John says, starting, then stopping, his voice trailing off, lost in whatever he’s picturing in his mind’s eye. “His fall . . . it’s as if he slashed through the tangled-up parts of the web when he fell. And that made an opening to begin taking all of it apart.”

Lestrade makes a soft noise of agreement, and then rocks back on his heels, his hands in his pockets. “I know it’s hard for you to know how long you may be gone . . . but I hope we see the both of you back here soon.” He reaches out to shake John’s hand, and then shifts, pulling him into a hug instead. “You take care out there, mate. We’ll keep our eyes and ears open here.”

“Well, that’s what got us this far,” John says, with a knowing look at Lestrade. “I wouldn’t be doing this on our terms without all of us having brought it about. Mission accomplished, in getting out into the field; let’s hope the first leg of what's to follow goes just as well.” ........................................................ @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @peanitbear @original-welovethebeekeeper @topsyturvy-turtely @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @jobooksncoffee @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @a-victorian-girl @keirgreeneyes @starrla89 @naefelldaurk @solarmama-plantsareneat @bluebellofbakerstreet @dragonnan @safedistancefrombeingsmart @jolieblack @msladysmith @ninasnakie

#mayprompts2024 #calaisreno #sherlock bits and bobs #may prompts 2024 #johnlock

[am-i-interrupting]

Imagine Vox with an anarchist or communist reader. Because I imagine he falls first, and the reader just hates his guts because he is quite literally the embodiment of capitalism. I just think it'd be really fucking funny. Lol.

If you like what I’m doing consider tipping me for priority requests & access to characters I don’t usually write for such as Charlie, Valentino, Carmilla, and more.

Vox has a tendency. That tendency was pointed out by Valentino as the moth laughed in his face.

He has a tendency to fixate in people who want nothing to do with him at best and want to kill him at worst.

You were probably friends with Cherri Bomb and being friends with Cherri means being friends with Angel.

You met Vox face to face when you were picking Angel up from set as he couldn’t even stand but needed to leave.

Vox tried to introduce himself but you walked right past him, flipping him the finger.

Your hard expression went soft when you helped Angel up to his feet and let him lean all of his weight on you but it immediately fell into a glare when you saw Vox.

You left. Vox watched you drag Angel to your home but that is where his ability to spy on you ended. You had no Voxtech in your house which only spurred his curiosity about you.

Not even a week later his warehouse for his cameras (specifically cameras used for directing) went up in flames. He saw you coming out of the smoke.

That’s when he decided to sit down and have a talk with you.

It ended with you spitting literal fire his way along with curses and him being even more intrigued.

The time since Alastor had disappeared had been boring.

Adding a new rival in his life was exactly what he needed.

Thus began your little feud.

It wasn’t ever anything truly filled with hate on his side.

You’d blow up one of his buildings. He’d steal you away for a chat afterwards. You’d curse him out. He’d put on a big man act. That was that.

The first time you truly hurt him he was shocked but it was his fault.

He was doing the big man act, threatening to make your life hell but you were already there and nothing he could take would be worth keeping anyway. That is until he uttered Angel’s name.

You moved so quick he didn’t have time to process. His computers behind him went up in flames, equipment went everywhere, and you were standing in front of him with a knife at his throat.

“I’ve only sparred you so far because I don’t have the shit to start a war with three overlords right now but touch Angel and I may be going down but you can bet your ass that I will take you down with me. Do we understand each other?”

Stupidly, so stupidly, that was the moment Vox realized he was falling in love.

You stayed quiet for a while but he knew where you were. He watched you.

He watched you and as he saw your acts of kindness to a select few and your hostility towards just about everyone else, he slowly began to fall in love.

It was when you were at a club with Cherri and Angel, out on the dance floor and then pulling a demon into a sex room as he watched when he couldn’t keep it in anymore.

It was stupid.

So stupid.

Doing something similar is what ruined his relationship with Alastor and got him stuck in this cycle with Valentino but he was a man of habit even if he pretended otherwise.

He materialized in the room behind you and tutted.

“Thought you would get lucky tonight?” Vox asked the demon. “Don’t you know luck rarely sided with a gambler?”

Maybe that line was a bit personal and he threw the demon out of the room with more force than he normally would have but hey, it’s Vox. The demon’s lucky they weren’t killed.

“The fuck are you doing?!” “Red light if you want me to stop.” “What?!”

He shoved you against the wall.

“Red light if you want me to stop.”

The next time one of Vox’s buildings went up in smoke, the fire was green.

If you like what I’m doing consider commissioning me for canon/canon stories AND personalized canon/reader stories.

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader

[half-oz-eddie]

parental death mention

Billy received a devastating phone call from an executor, asking if they could meet at an office in town regarding his mother. 

Billy didn’t need to know much else, except the fact that it was about his mother and it was urgent. 

When he got to the office, he was given an urn, an apology, a vague explanation, and a check.

His mother died, and there was no chance of him ever seeing her again.

Billy stood in front of his car, emotionless and confused, staring down at the urn as memories of being in her arms flashed through his mind. 

And the only way he can hold her close is by clutching her urn to his chest. But the warmth was gone and he could never hope to feel it again.

He stared down at it, longingly, as if he was staring into her eyes. The sand casted urn is blonde just like her hair, iridescent and sparkling in a way he remembered the shore of the beach on their last happy day together. 

He walked, ever so slowly back to Cherry Lane, his heart heavy from the terrible news and the uncertainty of what would happen once he arrived home with the urn.

Would Neil take it away? Would he smash it right in front of him? He dreaded what the near future held.

“So…” He awkwardly began. “Nice to uh…see you again. Not what I ever imagined but…I guess death is inevitable, and we can’t predict when it will come and get us.” Billy sighed. “I hate that you’re gone. We’re not even on the same planet anymore. At least when you were alive, the fact that we lived on the same earth gave me hope. Now…now that’s just gone. What’m I supposed to do?”

He could hear a car approaching behind and glared over when it slowed down beside him.

“You okay?” 

Harrington? Why would he fucking ask that? He doesn’t care.

“I never see you on foot. Did your car break down somewhere—“

“No. I’m good. I don’t need anything.”

“What’re you carrying?” Steve asked, slowly driving beside him.

“Why’re you in my business, Harrington? We’re not even friends.”

“I’m asking because…I didn’t wanna assume but—i-it looks similar to my nana’s urn.”

Billy stopped walking, his head hanging down. “It’s my mom.” He replied despondently.

“Your mom? Jesus, I’m so sorry, man. D’you wanna talk or—“

“I told you, I’m fine.” Billy chuckled it off. “I haven’t seen her since I was 9. I don’t even care that much that she’s gone.”

Steve didn’t buy that for a second. He noticed the way Billy hung his head down and clutched the urn so close to his body like a scared child holding a teddy bear.

“Billy, your house is 20 minutes from here by foot, and mine is on the way. Why don’t you just let me drive you—“

“I’m not in a rush to go home, Harrington. Just leave me alone.” He continued walking, speeding up slightly.

“Fine.” Steve sped off.

Billy wasn’t sure why, but he felt a tinge of guilt for pushing Steve away, until he realized Steve was parking up ahead and getting out of his car. 

He froze when Steve began to run toward him. 

“If you’re gonna walk, I’ll just walk with you.”

“Why?”

“Because your mom died, man. And the fact that you didn’t try to punch me earlier says a lot.”

“I just didn’t wanna drop my mom’s urn, or I would’ve punched you.”

Steve smirked, nodding in understanding. “Fair enough. I guess I’m being annoying.”

“A little.” Billy mumbled.

“Only a little?”

“Do you want me to say that you’re getting on my fucking nerves instead?”

“Nah. A little annoying is fine.”

They continued to walk together in silence, when Billy stopped. 

“I don’t wanna go home.” 

“How come? Don’t you wanna safely store your mom’s—“

“It’s not safe there. Even in death, mom’s not safe under Neil’s roof. He’ll probably break it in front of me then make me sweep up her ashes.” His lip began to tremble at the thought.

“Hey, man, we’re not gonna let that happen, okay? My car’s right here.” He pointed. “We can go to my house. My parents never come upstairs and there’s a nice place we can set her urn. Nobody’ll mess with it and you can come see her whenever you want.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” Billy questioned.

“I already told you. Your mom died. I’m not gonna kick a man while he’s down. That’s your thing.”

Billy chuckled, causing Steve to smile. 

“So whaddya say? Wanna come back to casa Harrington and give your mom a safe place?”

Billy nodded. “Under one condition.”

“Hm?”

“Never call your house ‘casa Harrington’ again.”

Steve laughed. “Alright, alright. Deal.”

— 

Steve drove Billy to his house and showed him to a marble console table at the end of the hallway.

There wasn’t anything on it, except for an old copy of Gone With The Wind.

“This was her favorite book.” Billy mentioned, setting the urn down beside the book.

He stood back and reached into his pocket for a small seashell to place next to her urn. 

“Hm…” Steve hummed pensively.

“What?”

“No, it’s just…I dunno, her urn’s like…lopsided. I don’t want it to fall over.

Billy stood back, noticing the way her urn didn’t rest flat on the surface like it was supposed to.

“Maybe there’s something under it.” Steve suggested.

Billy lifted the urn. There was nothing on the table, so he felt the bottom of the urn, noticing a strange bump beneath the felt. 

He carefully peeled away at the felt, startled when a square fell to the floor by his feet.

He set his mother’s urn down and focused his attention on the square. 

“Is that a…floppy disk?” Steve asked as Billy picked the black square up off the floor.

“Yeah. D’you have a computer?”

“I do but uh—are you sure we should like…actually open that?”

Billy narrowed his eyes. “Why the hell not? It could be a special message from my mom.”

“Because! What if it, I dunno, self destructs or something.”

“My mom wasn’t a fucking spy, shit-for-brains. Show me where your computer is.” Billy demanded.

“Fine.”

Steve led Billy to his computer and Billy inserted the floppy disk into the drive. 

The floppy only contained two files. A photo, and an audio file.

Billy opened the photo first, frowning deeply. 

“Cute kid. That you?”

“Yeah, it’s…me and my mom at the beach.”

“Aw, you look so happy. Look at that big bright smile. And your mom, she was…she was super pretty, man. You look just like her.”

“You callin’ me pretty?” He glanced over at Steve.

Steve gulped, his eyes shifting away. “Well I mean you called me pretty before! So what’s it matter?”

Billy answered with a shrug, returning his attention to the computer. 

“You got headphones?”

“Yeah, check the drawer right there.”

Billy pulled the drawer handle and peered inside. He quickly grabbed the headphones, disregarding the condoms in the drawer beside it.

He plugged the headphones in and listened to the audio file.

“Hello, Billy. If you’re listening to this, it means I’ve passed on, which is…so unfortunate, but I learned I have cancer, and the more I struggle, the more I become aware of how little time I have left. It pains me everyday, Billy. I wish we had more time together. I’m sure you grew up to become a fine young man.”

There was a pause in the audio. Billy could hear soft sniffles.

“And I want you to continue to grow. But I’ve learned some disturbing news, about your father…have you ever wondered why we had so many nice things, even on your father’s salary? I wasn’t working, and yet I was always able to keep the finest foods on the table, and buy you the most expensive clothing. You were probably too young to think anything of it. Before you were born, your father was an active duty soldier. Now, he’s a resident spy. He has been engaging in espionage for several years and feeding classified data to Russians. You have moved very close to a secret Russian military base. I’m not sure where in Hawkins the military base is located, but this is all the information I’ve gathered over the years. I need you to promise me. Promise me. You will get away from your father before he gets you killed. I love you so much, sweetie. Take care and be safe. And…I am so sorry. I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.”

When the audio message ended, Billy removed the headphones and stared at the screen, wide-eyed.

“Billy? Everything okay?”

He slowly turned to Steve, still in disbelief. “Hey, Harrington. Can I trust you?”

“Y—what?”

“Can I trust you?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. You can trust me.”

“My mom said my dad’s a spy. He’s been spying for the Russian military and that’s why we moved here. She thinks he’s gonna get me killed.”

“Holy shit…” Steve quietly whispered. “We need to talk to Hop.”

“What? No!” Billy shouted. “You said I could trust you!”

“Listen!” Steve exclaimed. “Hop’s been taking care of this kid, her name’s El, short for Eleven. She used to live in the Hawkins National Lab. She—she’s got powers and she was used as like a-a radio to spy on the Russian military.”

“Nah.” Billy laughed. “No that’s bullshit—“

“It’s not. I swear. You trust me, right? Then come with me.”

Billy shrugged. “I dunno about this.”

“Look This town’s got a lot of secrets. Really…weird secrets. I think it’s time you find out everything we know.”

“We? We who?”

Steve shrugged. “Sinclair, Henderson, Wheeler…Max.”

“Max?! That little shit knows things?!”

“Yes! And I tried to tell you that night we fought but you didn’t wanna hear me out.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Billy argued.

“I know! I know! Now we…we’ve gotta figure this shit out.” Steve grabbed a walkie talkie. “We’ve got a code red. Everybody meet at the quarry ASAP.”

“Copy that!” Dustin responded.

Steve returned his attention to Billy. “Let’s go. It’s time for you to learn the truth.”

#no idea where i was going with this #but i'm clearing out my drafts #so have this #billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #death mention tw #ivy.doc

[mae-gi-writes]

Finders Keepers | Gally [TMR] - Part 5

In which Gally gets soft for one of the boys in the Glade, only…is it a boy? alternatively; In which Mai disguises herself into a boy to fit in the Glade, only to be suspected by the keen eyes of the Builder's Keeper.

taglist: @edynmeyer1 @ss28 @kurowvie @vaugarkel

A/N: omg omg things are starting to roll and I'm so down for all of it. What do you think so far of Gally and Mai?

Also available on Wattpad.

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"The shuck you lookin' at?"

"I'm not looking at anything," says Mai as she plops another spoonful of mashed potatoes in Gally's plate, all while keeping a watchful eye on Frypan. The latter is currently grilling sausages and whistling to himself. She pushes the already-filled plate towards Gally and hisses, "just take it."

"You like him," Gally says it like a statement, not even a question. The idea has Mai's ears burn red, "no I don't. Now stop talking to me so I can go back to work."

A few days have passed since the incident and apart from a few weird looks from Jeff and Clint, Mai has escaped their tirade of questions for this month. For now, she's safe and back out of the radar.

Safe from everyone, except for Gally, who seems to have other ideas.

Like right now currently, when he's adamant that Mai has a crush on Minho. It doesn't help that Minho is cute and does make her blush from time to time. But hey, who can blame her? The Runner is a hugger and enjoys physical touch. He does it with everyone, so it's not like she can just ask him to back off without reason. That'll make him even more suspicious.

Gally doesn't think so, "what d'you like about him anyway? He's an asshole and he's full of himself."

"You are the asshole, Gally," Mai flicks her fork at him with a scowl, "now get lost."

She's not one to daydream of such things but she swears that something has changed between them within the past week. Gally somehow feels less aggressive. Oh, don't get her wrong, he still bullies her to death when no one's looking, but Mai likes to think that his actions speak louder than words.

And it feels as though he doesn't really mind having her around him.

But being friends with Gally also means to be bullied by others because of it. The first time it happened, she'd been busy unloading some meat from her cart when one of the Gladers pushed her over when she wasn't looking. She fell to the ground, eyes narrowed into slits as the Gladers around her laughed, but decidedly ignored them in favour of keeping the peace.

That doesn't stop them from trying to get something out of her.

It happens on an evening where all Keepers had been called to a meeting. Mai had been busy tasked with collecting some firewood for the Kitchens as Frypan needed more for the fires, and had been so engrossed in the task that she is surprised to find that night had fallen before she'd known it.

It's dark out now and with no light to guide her, she grips the sack of branches close to her chest as she treads carefully, squinting to follow the light of the Homestead.

"Oh look what we have here."

She freezes, turns over her shoulder slowly until she comes face to face with one of the Gladers that's been annoying her ever since she can remember; Henry.

He's one of the Builders, just as buff as Gally but short and squat, making him look rounder than he appears. His face makes Mai want to run for it and as he grins, she swears she feels her feet tremble. The desire to run prickles the back of her neck.

"Give it a rest Henry," Mai says flatly. It's been a while and she's not in the mood for this games.

"You know, we're in a Glade full of boys." He advances towards her and from the trees come out more Gladers, ones that she's unfamiliar with. Her stomach clenches with apprehension and she takes a shaky step back, "so we have needs, and sometimes, we need someone to fullfill those needs."

"That's pathetic," she snaps. Fear is pounding at her heart, causing a permanent ringing to thrum through her ears.

"Is it?" His grin widens, "let's find out."

Mai doesn't wait. She turns to break into a run—

But arms grab at her before she can, throwing her to the ground as a cry leaves her lips. Someone swivels her around roughly before she's forced to kneel at the knees.

"Stop it!" She yells out, tears starting to gather in her eyes at the thought that maybe there's no way out of this. Shit. And it's dark, nobody wanders to the forest in the dark.

The other gladers laugh like she's burst out a joke, "he's cute. I like him." One of them says.

"Let's see if he's got more spike than this," and to her horror, Henry starts to unzip his pants right before her eyes.

Mai's head jerks away, "stop it! Help!" She tries to shout as loud as her lungs would go, to no avail. The gladers swarm around her like a pack of Hyenas and she can't help but look at Henry's girth. It's red and throbbing and makes her want to throw up.

No. She begs silently, tears streaming down her face as she tries to push and shove and bite and kick-- anything, anything--

A hand clamps down on her skull, stopping her from moving altogether.

"Let's see what you're made of Greenie," Henry cackles as he advances forward, holding his girth in his hand. He grabs hold of her hair and pulls, roughly, until she's face to face with it. Her eyes squeeze shut as she hears him laugh out like a maniac. It sends chills down her spine, even more so when he squeezed her head--

"Everything all right here?"

The hand freezes. As does everyone.

Mai's throat bobs. A sob breaks out of it.

Through tear-rimmed eyes, she can barely make out two figures at the far end of the forest.

But she feels like she knows this voice. It's one that she hears everyday.

"Gally," Henry is quick to let go, zipping up his pants in the process though still keeping his hold on her hair, "what are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you that," a new voice. Newt's, speaks up as the slim figure advances forward. There's a dangerous tone to it, the kind that's like a warning bell and the other Gladers seem to sense it too, moving back slowly and away from Henry, letting go of her arms in the process.

"Just having a little fun here with the Greenie," he tries to sound confident, but it's clear he fears his Keeper. But his mistake is asking, "what do you say? Wanna—"

His words barely make it out of his mouth before a fist swings out in his direction.

Henry goes down with a cry. A series of footsteps thump along the ground, and there stands Gally, breathless and looking absolutely terrifying. Furious.

"You disgusting shank," he grabs Henry's collar, jerks him up before delivering another blow. And another, and another—

"Gally!" Newt shouts. The said Builder stops in mid-action, looking down at Henry's bloodied face with his jaw still clenched. Newt continues, "that's enough, man. Let him go."

Gally's still glaring, hold tightening even further.

"Gally," Newt repeats more firmly and this time the Builder lets him go, Henry falling to the ground in a heap, "I'll bring them back to Homestead. Let Alby deal with them."

Newt then jerks his head towards the lights, "come on then. Right now."

The gladers have no other choice but to obey the second-in-command with their eyes cast down and away from Gally's furious glare. Not that he notices. He's looking down at Henry, shoving him to the ground with one last threatening curse as the latter yelps and runs as far away as he possibly can.

It is then that Mai's knees give out and she crumples up like a broken doll, chest tight and breaths coming out in small gasps.

Gally turns to her and in his voice she hears a tinge of softness, "hey Greenie."

He closes the distance between them before leaning down so that they're face to face, "are you alright?"

The girl opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it once more, to realize that nothing can come out. Her limbs are frozen in place, her heart still racing like a horse against her chest. She can feel the tear stains on her cheeks, carving paths down her skin and maybe it's just the shock of it all that causes a sob to echo out of her throat.

She starts crying, and Gally's hand lands on her shoulder.

"Hey hey, it's fine. They're gone," his gentleness surprises her, for he's never been like this. He's not usually, not in their every day life. But sitting here with her as she cries her heart out makes her chest warm despite the earlier events, like a beacon of security, a barrier of protection against the world. That's how Gally feels to her.

Before she knows it, she's thrown herself at him, not caring that he still believes she's a guy. Grabbing a hold of his shirt with both hands, the girl doesn't hesitate to bury her face in his chest as she feels the Builder freeze.

It's only for a moment though, a tiny fraction of a second, before his arms go around her — they're hesitant, unsure — and settle on her back.

He gives her a few awkward pats. She can feel the tension along his neck.

"Right greenie. No need to cry," he says gruffly against her hair, but not pulling away when she nuzzles even closer still. His warmth and scent are addictive, they feel like home in a foreign place. Mai realizes she kind of likes it, "these shanks aren't gonna touch you again, not after Alby's punishment."

But Mai is in her own world, clinging to Gally's comfort like it's the only thing holding her in place, the only stability she has as the emotions tremble through her, courses through her chest and knots in her stomach. It's like a dam finally breaking open and so Gally realizes he has no other choice but to be here for a while, and so decides to pat her on the back, trying not to take note of how slim the Greenie is under his fingertips, how tiny and fragile, almost—

No. No. No. You are not going there.

Mai finally calms down after what seems to be like an eternity, her sobs dying out into sniffles. The Builder's hand has moved up to her head since, smoothing down over her short hair almost absentmindedly. He drops it like he's burnt himself upon realization, pulling a grimace as he does so.

She whispers out his name so softly he barely hears it. He looks down at her with a soft frown, one that's swimming with genuine concern, only to hear the girl say, "thank you for saving me."

He's about to reply when Mai interrupts him by pressing a kiss.

Right onto his cheek.

----

"The shuck you lookin' at?"

"I'm not looking at anything," says Mai as she plops another spoonful of mashed potatoes in Gally's plate, all while keeping a watchful eye on Frypan. The latter is currently grilling sausages and whistling to himself. She pushes the already-filled plate towards Gally and hisses, "just take it."

"You like him," Gally says it like a statement, not even a question. The idea has Mai's ears burn red, "no I don't. Now stop talking to me so I can go back to work."

A few days have passed since the incident and apart from a few weird looks from Jeff and Clint, Mai has escaped their tirade of questions for this month. For now, she's safe and back out of the radar.

Safe from everyone, except for Gally, who seems to have other ideas.

Like right now currently, when he's adamant that Mai has a crush on Minho. It doesn't help that Minho is cute and does make her blush from time to time. But hey, who can blame her? The Runner is a hugger and enjoys physical touch. He does it with everyone, so it's not like she can just ask him to back off without reason. That'll make him even more suspicious.

Gally doesn't think so, "what d'you like about him anyway? He's an asshole and he's full of himself."

"You are the asshole, Gally," Mai flicks her fork at him with a scowl, "now get lost."

She's not one to daydream of such things but she swears that something has changed between them within the past week. Gally somehow feels less aggressive. Oh, don't get her wrong, he still bullies her to death when no one's looking, but Mai likes to think that his actions speak louder than words.

And it feels as though he doesn't really mind having her around him.

But being friends with Gally also means to be bullied by others because of it. The first time it happened, she'd been busy unloading some meat from her cart when one of the Gladers pushed her over when she wasn't looking. She fell to the ground, eyes narrowed into slits as the Gladers around her laughed, but decidedly ignored them in favour of keeping the peace.

That doesn't stop them from trying to get something out of her.

It happens on an evening where all Keepers had been called to a meeting. Mai had been busy tasked with collecting some firewood for the Kitchens as Frypan needed more for the fires, and had been so engrossed in the task that she is surprised to find that night had fallen before she'd known it.

It's dark out now and with no light to guide her, she grips the sack of branches close to her chest as she treads carefully, squinting to follow the light of the Homestead.

"Oh look what we have here."

She freezes, turns over her shoulder slowly until she comes face to face with one of the Gladers that's been annoying her ever since she can remember; Henry.

He's one of the Builders, just as buff as Gally but short and squat, making him look rounder than he appears. His face makes Mai want to run for it and as he grins, she swears she feels her feet tremble. The desire to run prickles the back of her neck.

"Give it a rest Henry," Mai says flatly. It's been a while and she's not in the mood for this games.

"You know, we're in a Glade full of boys." He advances towards her and from the trees come out more Gladers, ones that she's unfamiliar with. Her stomach clenches with apprehension and she takes a shaky step back, "so we have needs, and sometimes, we need someone to fullfill those needs."

"That's pathetic," she snaps. Fear is pounding at her heart, causing a permanent ringing to thrum through her ears.

"Is it?" His grin widens, "let's find out."

Mai doesn't wait. She turns to break into a run—

But arms grab at her before she can, throwing her to the ground as a cry leaves her lips. Someone swivels her around roughly before she's forced to kneel at the knees.

"Stop it!" She yells out, tears starting to gather in her eyes at the thought that maybe there's no way out of this. Shit. And it's dark, nobody wanders to the forest in the dark.

The other gladers laugh like she's burst out a joke, "he's cute. I like him." One of them says.

"Let's see if he's got more spike than this," and to her horror, Henry starts to unzip his pants right before her eyes.

Mai's head jerks away, "stop it! Help!" She tries to shout as loud as her lungs would go, to no avail. The gladers swarm around her like a pack of Hyenas and she can't help but look at Henry's girth. It's red and throbbing and makes her want to throw up.

No. She begs silently, tears streaming down her face as she tries to push and shove and bite and kick-- anything, anything--

A hand clamps down on her skull, stopping her from moving altogether.

"Let's see what you're made of Greenie," Henry cackles as he advances forward, holding his girth in his hand. He grabs hold of her hair and pulls, roughly, until she's face to face with it. Her eyes squeeze shut as she hears him laugh out like a maniac. It sends chills down her spine, even more so when he squeezed her head--

"Everything all right here?"

The hand freezes. As does everyone.

Mai's throat bobs. A sob breaks out of it.

Through tear-rimmed eyes, she can barely make out two figures at the far end of the forest.

But she feels like she knows this voice. It's one that she hears everyday.

"Gally," Henry is quick to let go, zipping up his pants in the process though still keeping his hold on her hair, "what are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you that," a new voice. Newt's, speaks up as the slim figure advances forward. There's a dangerous tone to it, the kind that's like a warning bell and the other Gladers seem to sense it too, moving back slowly and away from Henry, letting go of her arms in the process.

"Just having a little fun here with the Greenie," he tries to sound confident, but it's clear he fears his Keeper. But his mistake is asking, "what do you say? Wanna—"

His words barely make it out of his mouth before a fist swings out in his direction.

Henry goes down with a cry. A series of footsteps thump along the ground, and there stands Gally, breathless and looking absolutely terrifying. Furious.

"You disgusting shank," he grabs Henry's collar, jerks him up before delivering another blow. And another, and another—

"Gally!" Newt shouts. The said Builder stops in mid-action, looking down at Henry's bloodied face with his jaw still clenched. Newt continues, "that's enough, man. Let him go."

Gally's still glaring, hold tightening even further.

"Gally," Newt repeats more firmly and this time the Builder lets him go, Henry falling to the ground in a heap, "I'll bring them back to Homestead. Let Alby deal with them."

Newt then jerks his head towards the lights, "come on then. Right now."

The gladers have no other choice but to obey the second-in-command with their eyes cast down and away from Gally's furious glare. Not that he notices. He's looking down at Henry, shoving him to the ground with one last threatening curse as the latter yelps and runs as far away as he possibly can.

It is then that Mai's knees give out and she crumples up like a broken doll, chest tight and breaths coming out in small gasps.

Gally turns to her and in his voice she hears a tinge of softness, "hey Greenie."

He closes the distance between them before leaning down so that they're face to face, "are you alright?"

The girl opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it once more, to realize that nothing can come out. Her limbs are frozen in place, her heart still racing like a horse against her chest. She can feel the tear stains on her cheeks, carving paths down her skin and maybe it's just the shock of it all that causes a sob to echo out of her throat.

She starts crying, and Gally's hand lands on her shoulder.

"Hey hey, it's fine. They're gone," his gentleness surprises her, for he's never been like this. He's not usually, not in their every day life. But sitting here with her as she cries her heart out makes her chest warm despite the earlier events, like a beacon of security, a barrier of protection against the world. That's how Gally feels to her.

Before she knows it, she's thrown herself at him, not caring that he still believes she's a guy. Grabbing a hold of his shirt with both hands, the girl doesn't hesitate to bury her face in his chest as she feels the Builder freeze.

It's only for a moment though, a tiny fraction of a second, before his arms go around her — they're hesitant, unsure — and settle on her back.

He gives her a few awkward pats. She can feel the tension along his neck.

"Right greenie. No need to cry," he says gruffly against her hair, but not pulling away when she nuzzles even closer still. His warmth and scent are addictive, they feel like home in a foreign place. Mai realizes she kind of likes it, "these shanks aren't gonna touch you again, not after Alby's punishment."

But Mai is in her own world, clinging to Gally's comfort like it's the only thing holding her in place, the only stability she has as the emotions tremble through her, courses through her chest and knots in her stomach. It's like a dam finally breaking open and so Gally realizes he has no other choice but to be here for a while, and so decides to pat her on the back, trying not to take note of how slim the Greenie is under his fingertips, how tiny and fragile, almost—

No. No. No. You are not going there.

Mai finally calms down after what seems to be like an eternity, her sobs dying out into sniffles. The Builder's hand has moved up to her head since, smoothing down over her short hair almost absentmindedly. He drops it like he's burnt himself upon realization, pulling a grimace as he does so.

She whispers out his name so softly he barely hears it. He looks down at her with a soft frown, one that's swimming with genuine concern, only to hear the girl say, "thank you for saving me."

He's about to reply when Mai interrupts him by pressing a kiss.

Right onto his cheek.

---

Mai realizes a bit too late what she's doing.

She jerks away at the same time that Gally's mouth drops open. The girl scrambles back in surprise, eyes wide as she holds up her hands in a defensive stance.

"I—I'm so sorry! I don't know what came over me I—" her squeak dies out as she watches the said young man rub at his cheek, where her lips had been a few seconds prior. He's not looking at her, glaring down at the ground and a flush creeping up the back of his neck.

"Gally I—"

"Forget it."

He's already walking away so fast that Mai has to scramble to catch up to him. Her heart is galloping like a wild horse against her chest, but not for the same reason this time. She feels the permanent blush taking over her face as she tries to stutter through a bunch of excuses, "I'm so sorry Gally, I—It won't happen again it's just— you know, I was scared in the moment and I—"

"I said forget it Greenie," he snaps as he keeps walking.

Mai's shoulders slump. Great, she thinks to herself, way to get him disgusted with me.

The rest of the walk back to Homestead is quiet and Mai decides it's better not to interrupt the peace until they reach the Council room. The gladers responsible are already inside, Henry included. Mai can't help but wince and hide behind Gally's broad back when she feels his dirty eyes on her frame.

Alby is in the middle of giving them their punishment, "—three days in the Slammer, no food, and when you get back from there, you're all gonna be Slicers until you apologize to Mai. Sincerely." He adds coldly, "consider this a merciful punishment. I could've have you banished if I wanted."

The Gladers murmur out their thanks. Not Henry, whose beady eyes are still locked on Mai's frame.

"Mai's lying to us," he suddenly calls out. The room falls silent as all eyes drag to Henry.

Mai freezes on the spot. Oh no. Has she not been discreet enough? Is this what she thinks it is?

Will she be going into the Slammer too?

"What do you mean?" Asks Alby.

Newt is also frowning at the said glader, eyebrows kissing at the center as his gaze trails over to Mai.

"This—" Henry jabs a shaky finger into Mai's direction, "This is a girl! She's been lying to us this whole time!"

"What in the bloody world are you talking about?" Newt asks but it's too late. Everyone has already spun around to look at Mai and each passing second that goes by causes Mai's reality to shatter because the truth is coming out, and the truth— no matter how hard she tries to hide — is real.

Her eyes move from the disbelief in Newt's, to the confusion in Alby's, before finally landing on Gally's blue gaze. His are a stormy aquamarine, something like realization causing the color in his eyes to shift and widen.

She can't deal with it. Not with them all looking at her like she's a sick secret.

So she does what she knows best.

She runs.

———

The Council room erupts into chaos as soon as Mai sprints away like her life depends on it.

Gally's first, already striding to the door with purpose only to be stopped by a pair of arms.

"Wait," Alby holds onto him with his jaw clenched and tight, "Gally, stop."

"I—" but Gally's thoughts are scattered and nonsensical, the memories of the Greenie, all the shower nights and the suspicious behavior, that one time Mai claimed he had a stomach ache because he was hungover... everything is starting to make sense and he has no idea how to deal with it.

"Gally," Alby's voice brings him back and the Builder allows himself to be pushed into a vacant bench. His fists tighten at his sides as he glares into the ground, one hand unconsciously going up to rub at his face in growing exasperation.

Shit. He's already feeling a headache coming in.

Henry, on the other hand, seems to be delighted at the unfolding of events, "see?! i told you she was a girl! And now she's shuckin' scared for her life because she lied to all of us—"

"Shut up Henry," Newt interrupts, his voice shaking with so much restrained anger that it takes everyone by surprise, "you're still an asshole for what you did to her. So slim it or I'm throwing you headfirst into the maze."

That, coming from Newt, instantly causes the said boy to close his mouth. Alby advances towards him slowly, a certain kind of darkness in his eyes that wasn't there before. He feels like a predator ready to pounce on his prey and all too soon Henry starts squirming.

"What you said about Mai," Alby starts off slow, though the venom in his voice is unmistakable, "that's a very serious accusation, shank. Do you even know what you're saying?"

"I saw her!I swear I did and--"

"So you spied on her?" Gally's rage increased tenfold. He wants nothing more than to wring his petty neck. He feels Newt's hand on his shoulder, a reminder to stay composed, and tries to relax.

It doesn't work.

"Well--I--I mean I had to, to prove my point--" Henry's eyes dart back and forth between the Glade Leader and the Builder that looks like he's going to kill him and place his head on a pike, "listen, the point is, she's not who she says she is. She's a shuckin' liar, a traitor! She's the one that should be thrown into the Maze because she broke the rules!"

"We'll be the judge of that," Alby cuts him off sternly. He turns to Newt, "get these slintheads into the Slammer. And him--" he points at Henry, "he doesn't get out of there until we know what we're gonna do with him."

"What?!" Henry tries to flail away from the other Gladers circling around him to grab at his arms, "I've protected the Glade from this chick. We don't even know what she can do! If she's the only girl maybe she's hiding something--"

But Gally's had enough. His hand jerks out, grabbing a fistful of Henry's shirt before wrenching him close so that they're face to face with each other. And when he speaks, his voice is merely above a growl.

"Listen here, you slinthead," Henry can't help but let out a whimper when Gally tugs him even closer, teeth baring dangerously and eyes so narrow and cold they look merciless, "maybe she did have her reasons for lying to us. And even if she did, that doesn't give you the right to spy on her, or to take advantage of her like that," Gally snarls, "do you understand me?"

"Y--Yes," Henry stutters before a few other Gladers pull him away from the Builder's trembling, raging gaze that speaks volumes.

It is only when Alby's hand drops onto his shoulder that Gally realizes he's gone back into his thoughts without realizing that the Council room is now void of people.

"I think you should go and find Mai," Alby says gently, totally unlike how he'd been a few minutes earlier, "we can't seem to find him -- her."

Truth to be told, Gally wouldn't blame Mai for trying to get away from all this shit show when she's had enough to deal with in one evening. But it's still night and Gally's starting to worry about whether the guy -- girl -- will freeze to death. The Glade is known for being relentlessly cold at night time and if he remembered correctly, Mai had been wearing nothing but a loose t-shirt.

He searches everywhere. The showers, under the kitchen tables, amidst the hammocks. He even goes out of his way to light a torch as he ploughs through the forest with Newt and a sleepy Minho who'd been woken up for the occasion, to no avail. It seems that Mai has just disappeared into thin air and despite the fact that Gally tries to brush it off, he can't quite help the way his stomach knots itself into two at the thought of Mai being all alone in the dark.

That is, until he decides to prowl through the trees.

He finds her then, cooped up amidst a few branches a few feet above ground, high enough that no one would've normally noticed her presence. He catches sight of her tensing as he approaches, the black outline of her figure moving back slowly as if fearing the worst. So he calls out, just in case:

"Hey Greenie," he pauses, waiting. The figure stays immobile, "it's just me."

Nothing. Silence that tears through the open space with the only interruption being the whistle of trees and the groaning of metal from the maze in the distance. It feels like forever and Gally has half a mind to climb up there himself when she finally speaks.

"I'm sorry."

He squints up at her, "don't be stupid. Just get down."

"I've lied. Henry's right," she blurts out, "I am a girl, I just didn't know how to tell you all without you freaking out about it."

"So what?" Gally responds, "Now we know. Big deal. Now get down so we can go back to Homestead to get some sleep."

He inclines his lamp towards hers so that he catches a glimpse of her face, and sure enough, the fear etched into her features is one that is reminiscent of a doe caught in broad daylight, causing something in the pits of Gally's stomach to soften.

She's so fragile. How in the world had he not noticed it then?

No. He had noticed.

He just hadn't wanted it to be true.

"Come on Greenie," Gally murmurs out, extending a hand in the process, "are you gonna keep making me wait?"

"I never asked you to wait for me, or to look for me, for that matter," She shoots back, "you can go back to sleep there and I'll stay here."

"Greenie."

"Gally."

He lets out a puff of air, "don't make me come and get you myself."

A ghost of a goosebump shivers up her spine at his words before Mai finally lets out a sigh of her own, "alright fine. On one condition."

"What?"

"I--" she bites onto her lower lip, chews it for a few seconds before looking back at him shyly. When she speaks next, her voice has dropped to a soft murmur, "can I stay with you? I--I don't feel safe. Not tonight."

Gally's heart almost explodes. Here she is, looking like a pretty thing stranded up in those trees with those big brown eyes looking down with glistening tears, and she's asking if she can stay with him for the night. He wonders whether people die from heart attacks as a result of personal interactions because he swears he can feel his heart almost jumping out of his chest. His skin feels warm to the touch and he wouldn't be surprised if someone were to point out that he's blushing.

Nevertheless, he keeps his voice steady and tender when he answers, "yeah alright."

#gally #tmr gally #the maze runner fanfiction #the maze runner #tmr thomas #tmr newt #tmr #tmr minho #the death cure #the scorch trials #gally x reader #gally tmr #gally the maze runner #gally x you #gally x y/n #angst #romcom #tmr x you #the maze runner x reader #tmr x reader #tmr x y/n

[rainybubbles]

Draw me, love me- Soap x reader

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

"Will you ever draw me, Johnny?" 

His eyes fixed on me. With his pencil suspended, he stopped drawing.

"I don't think so, it's merely a pastime," he responded, his tone almost aloof.

"But you've drawn Lizzie, haven't you?"

"That's different."

My lips tightened, my gaze dropping to the ground. A knot of bitterness formed in my throat. If there was one lesson I had gleaned from Johnny, it was that he would never sketch me.

(Never would he love me.)

—-------------------------

-It's quite ironic that our friendship began amidst charcoal and erasers, in a small village lost in Scotland, the only art class for miles around.

-We were the only two students of Madame McGuire, a housewife desperately seeking occupation. Looking back, she was a failed artist. But my parents wanted to cultivate a passion in me, and when my rugby endeavors left me with more broken bones than joy, they finally realized that sports weren't my ally.

-So, at the tender age of 8, I entered that house feeling anxious, and there he was, covered in charcoal up to his nose.

-Seeing him laugh kicked off our sketches.

A stroke of pencil led by questions, followed by a few strokes of erasers as we got to know each other, and slowly our friendship sketch took shape in that decrepit house. Sheet after sheet, our sketches brought us together, his energy was indomitable.

"Hey, will you ever be an artist?" he asked.

It was the first time I was asked the question without disdain. No implication, no 'but think of something else.'

"I don't know," I replied.

That was a lie.

I knew.

I wanted to be, but I didn't dare to dream about it.

"I think you should try; you've got cute pigtails like artists," he said.

"Do all artists have pigtails?" I asked.

"They have quirky hair, my mom says so."

I paused, releasing my marker.

"In that case, my dad can never be one," I admitted sadly.

"Why?" John asked, curious.

"He's bald."

He handed me his favorite marker and resumed his coloring.

"Oh, that's sad for him," he sighed.

"At least he can look like Mr. Clean."

"Is he cool?" he asked.

"...not really," I replied.

"Mine isn't cool either," he said.

"Oh yeah?" I asked.

"When I was born, he left. And now he tries to knock on the door, but my mom won't let him."

"What do you do then?" I asked.

"I threw a bucket of glitter at him," he said.

"Did it work?" I asked.

"Yeah, but now I'm out of glitter for next time," he replied.

"Try charcoal, it stains. Last time, I was covered, and my mom screamed."

"I'll try that," he said.

They were ridiculous sketches, full of stick figures, houses with square windows, and purple-skinned people. But it was our art, our relationship.

_______________________

Slowly, during high school, I found myself gravitating towards the art club, which was slightly larger than Madame McGuire's classes, with a modest increase from one classmate to three. Admittedly, a four-person club crammed into the janitor's closet didn't boast much, but it held a special place in my heart.

Deep down, I harbored a hope that John would join us.

Yet, he opted for the rugby club, and gradually, we drifted apart. While my sketches remained monochrome, his days overflowed with vibrant social interactions.

I felt like a dull canvas, yearning for a splash of color. Meanwhile, he effortlessly embodied a lively watercolor.

Attempts to reconnect faltered. Our conversations in the hallway, the offering of sketchbooks, the inquiry about his artistic pursuits—all met with fleeting gestures, mere nods. In hindsight, I should have recognized my insignificance compared to his bustling world.

Thus, I embarked on a solitary journey from sketches to hues.

It was a daunting, lonely, and unattractive endeavor.

Progress eluded me.

My phone remained silent, notifications reduced to mindless spam, and evenings lingered in the quiet company of my parents.

Weekends became my sanctuary for artistic expression, while weekdays served as a means to evade familial interactions. The cycle persisted.

I found myself trapped in a cycle of sketching, erasing, and doodling, endlessly switching between pencils in a desperate attempt to breathe life into my ideas. Meanwhile, he effortlessly thrived, seamlessly integrated into his vibrant world.

I resented him.

(I resented myself.)

__________________________________

In our second year, Johnny left the rugby club.

No one quite knew why the golden boy, the one so highly touted to future recruiters, would do such a thing, but he did.

That was Johnny now.

No longer the tentative, hesitant charcoal sketch, but a permanent ink drawing.

So, one evening, when I caught sight of his silhouette at the art club, I realized he was back for good.

I didn't know how to take the news.

Embarrassed, I tucked my sketchbook under my arm.

"John," I greeted as I settled in.

"I wanted to apologize, y/n I- I didn't behave well."

"No, no. You've evolved, and that's normal, we can't always stay with the same people."

That's what I kept telling myself.

Adults say stuff like that.

My mom says it when my dad comes home too late, ignoring the scent of perfume on his jacket and the divorce papers in the drawer.

"But still, I missed you. I loved making you laugh and our moments together, and I let all that get to my head."

"...okay," I finally said.

Johnny smiled and handed me a blank page.

"For a fresh start."

"It's your history evaluation, but I appreciate the metaphor."

He apologized and offered another sheet.

That evening, I could finally sketch in peace, with him standing behind me, ink in hand.

Sure, I remained a hesitant pencil, but at least Johnny was there to catch every one of my missed strokes.

Finally back, I felt relieved.

_____________________________

In our final year, something shifted.

Johnny abruptly traded his black ink for bold strokes of red oil paint.

Nothing but red.

His once vibrant gaze darkened, leaving me puzzled by the change.

His aspirations for college faded into whispers, his focus elsewhere, perhaps lost in that obsessive red.

"You're painting a lot in red these days."

"It's my preference."

"Why not... try something else?"

"Are you really the one suggesting that to me?"

I hesitated, unsure of what more to add.

Sure, I remained within the comfortable confines of our village, with pencils, sketches, good grades, the compliant, quiet person, destined for college, but—

I knew.

My life wasn't a venture but a dreary routine.

Yet, why did he feel the need to emphasize it? To dismiss my art like that, to belittle it?

Tears threatened to spill, and I bit down on my lip.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that. I—things have changed."

"You said that last time too."

"But it's true, I— I'm enlisting, y/n."

Only later did I discover the passing of his military uncle. That's what had altered everything. Johnny sought to shield others, to mold his painting into a formidable barrier.

"I understand."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"Would you prefer I voice my thoughts? About turning young lives into cannon fodder for people seated in diplomatic chairs? It's not wise, John."

"Y/n, it's not—"

"We don't see eye to eye on this, John. And we never will. So, best of luck, I suppose."

"Thank you."

It marked the first time I expressed my opinion without trembling, without yielding, without erasing it.

For once, I had wielded black ink too.

_________________________

Madame McGuire threw a massive party, a couple of years after we graduated. John kept texting me for New Year's, Christmas, and my birthday. I replied, and that was about it. Everything turned cold after he left. Despite the confidence I gained, I struggled to channel it into my drawings, which were buried at the bottom of my drawers beneath my college coursework. I had given up on art.

"Hey, y/n."

Or so I thought. But seeing him standing there, smiling at me, my only thought was to capture him on canvas so I could observe him every day.

"John."

I couldn't finish my sentence before he enveloped me in a hug. His arms had definitely tripled in size, and his hair was styled in a ridiculous egghead cut, a far cry from the mullet he once dreamed of.

"I'm trying to imitate your dad, it seems," he said, referring to his haircut.

"I bet you cried when they shaved it off," I teased.

"Maybe," he grinned.

It was funny; our exchanges seemed fluid again, our pigments blending once more in the waters of friendship.

"Are you... doing okay?"

Awkward.

He had a smile on his face, he hugged me, and yet, I knew the answer.

"I- yeah," he replied uncomfortably.

Maybe not so fluid after all.

"Are you still doing art? I mean, I heard someone from our village got into an art college on a scholarship, and it has to be you."

My smile faded.

No.

In reality, in high school, you were the art prodigy.

One stroke and everyone praised you, one hand movement and everyone was in awe.

But as you grow older, you're not alone anymore. You're not interesting anymore.

You're just an artist among hundreds of others.

I observed him, wanting to lie, to throw pigments in his eyes, to force-feed him acrylics as lies, but—

"No, y/n isn't frivolous, they chose a history degree," my father interjected.

Frivolous.

What burned with desire, with passion for a decade, the thousands of pages in my drawers, of pencils, of hours spent studying, of sleepless nights smiling.

My father summed it up in one word in the harsh reality of the working world.

A sheepish smile appeared on John's face.

"But you loved it," he said.

"Not so much anymore," I lied.

Because how do you admit to cowardly abandoning your only reason for living?

My heart clenched, my eyes avoided his gaze.

John was like me; he knew what art was, what it meant to be an artist.

I felt his hands on my shoulder.

My heart trembled, scared of the passion John could reignite.

"I refuse to believe that," he said.

"John."

"I kept going, you know, I— I still draw."

"Really?"

"In my journal, at least, I draw. If I don't stop, don't you either, y/n, please, promise me."

His promise was there, my feet at the edge of this canvas of friendship.

And without too much thought, I jumped right in.

"Okay."

________________________________

He sent me his sketches whenever he could. Forced to stick with pencil, his art lost its vibrancy. So, I compensated by using colors, paint. Slowly, confidence crept in, only to be shattered by doubt. But every day, I sent him a photo. And whenever he could, he complimented my art. I think that's what made me fall.

My art... it was me.

It was the essence of who I was — the part of me that didn't need words, that I could shape and mold into something beautiful. It wasn't about my body or my face. My art was my soul. So, his compliments, slowly, I took them for more. Our late-night conversations, from opposite ends of the world, I cherished them a bit too much. His laughter, the way he said my name, his hugs, everything was... him. He appreciated my art. So, I thought he appreciated me.

(It's false, I knew he didn't)

"You know, right now I'm in a desert."

"You told me that six months ago, John," I chuckled over the phone.

"In a different one."

"You should have been an archaeologist at this rate."

"I thought about it, you know, but no, I don't want to be chased by a mummy."

"I don't think that's likely, John."

"You haven't seen enough movies, y/n."

"Yes, actually."

A silence stretched.

"I'm getting promoted."

"Good for you," I smiled.

But the silence persisted.

"But I want to specialize first."

"...what do you mean?"

"I... I've always been good at math."

"Yes, but you don't kill people with equations, John."

"Yes."

"No, I don't— oh. Oh."

"I want to try bombs."

"So you're telling me you want to become Einstein at 4 a.m. in a desert over the phone?"

"My mom would have a fit, and I wanted your opinion."

"No, you don't want that, John, and you know it."

He didn't say a word before finally speaking.

"...it's true, I just needed to talk about it."

I was angry. Why tell me? I hated his job, his sacrifice.

"Damn it, human cannon fodder exploding, you—"

I stopped myself. John had made his choice, no matter my arguments. I was his friend.

"Are you happy?"

"Yes. Really."

"Then... go ahead," I murmured, already regretting it.

"Thank you, y/n."

Suddenly, I wanted to shove my sketches down his throat. To convince him. Being a simple soldier meant he remained accessible, but a promotion... A promotion left me alone, surrounded by his sketches of battles and soldiers.

__________________________________

"Sergeant Soap, looking ridiculous," I smiled.

In his uniform, he had just returned from the ceremony. His family couldn't make it, much to his mother's dismay, who had been calling every five minutes to apologize and had asked me for a hundred photos of her son in uniform.

"Soap is cool."

"Soap? Nah."

He grinned, beer in hand in my apartment.

"You must be charming a lot of people in uniform like that," I joked.

"I admit to my little success," he joked back. "But... there's one, at the moment."

"Thomas?"

"How did you know?" he exclaimed, sitting up.

I laughed.

"You send me sketches of him non-stop, it's your trademark, McTavish. You sketch the people you like."

"...in more ways than one," he added with a smirk.

"Ewww!"

He continued his story about Thomas, our laughter fading in my apartment.

Maybe at that moment, I should have remembered that John had never drawn me.

______________________________

In reality, experiencing unrequited love is quite peaceful.

Nothing pulls you in, life just goes on.

Everything feels dull.

And suddenly, you catch sight of your crush and everything changes.

Then everything goes back to normal.

After Thomas, I caught sight of the sketches of Valentine, Ymir, Julio, Shirley.

Their features all blurred together in my mind, their smiles.

Every evening, I observed myself, searching for a resemblance, hoping to attract him, to be captured by his pencil.

But nothing.

So I continued to sketch him without being sketched in return.

And when I finally asked him the question.

"Will you ever draw me, Johnny?"

"I don't think so, it's just to distract myself," he replied in an almost detached tone.

"But you drew Lizzie, didn't you?"

"That's different."

I understood that he would never love me.

_______________________

- You don't talk to John anymore?

I was at my mother's for the weekend.

In truth, I had stopped sending my sketches (my feelings).

John, on the other hand, continued with his (his friendship).

- Not much anymore. The distance makes it hard, you know?

No, it had never been a challenge for us.

- I see. I... you know, I thought he would help you.

- Help me with what?

- Art.

I paused in the kitchen, setting the bowl on the table before turning to her.

- Mom, it's not—

- I know that—I never said anything. I never opposed your father, but seeing you pursue a history doctorate while every evening, I watched your fingertips, gray with charcoal, I can't help but think what a waste it is.

- Dad has nothing to do with this. I needed a legitimate degree, it's not—

- T/p.

Her voice turned cold.

I met her gaze.

- Stop hiding, please. she murmured, tears in her eyes as she hugged me.

I couldn't move.

- Speak up, address the world. I'm sorry for asking you to remain silent for so long. I should have... I should have spoken up, pushed you further. Go ahead.

It was as if a wave suddenly crashed over me.

I collapsed, tears streaming, into her embrace.

- I'm sorry. I whispered.

I didn't know why I was apologizing.

- It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay. she reassured, tears streaming down her face

Tears flowed, my breathing grew ragged, my nose stuffed, my vision blurred. I felt numb. Dissolving into her arms, all I could do was sob.

- I thought I could handle it. I murmured.

Pretend.

Pretend to be happy in a career I don't want.

Pretend to be happy when he doesn't love me.

Pretend to be happy when I'm not there mentally.

_____________________

Three years had flown by.

Sketching was no longer just a step; I dove in without hesitation. It had been tough—financially, socially. I had no connections in the field, retreating back to my parents' home. Rejection after rejection, unpaid internships barely covering my food expenses. Student loans weighed heavily on my shoulders. The other students seemed younger, more talented. But I held onto my diploma, earned through hard work, even if it meant slaving away at a fast-food joint. I kept applying, day in and day out, until one day, I landed a job as an assistant for a small comic book company.

Back in the village for Christmas, I had done the grocery shopping my mother asked for.

"John," I greeted him, having lost touch with him. In fact, I had blocked him. I needed to move forward. So, I sent him a message, asking him not to contact me anymore because I didn't want that friendship anymore. It was pathetic, I know. I was a jerk. But I needed it, strangely.

"You... you look radiant," he remarked.

"Thank you," I replied.

"I... your message, that—"

"I'm sorry. I needed space at that time. I shouldn't have... done that like that," I apologized.

"I see," he said.

"Still... Sergeant?" I asked, noting his mullet.

"Yeah, I... I'm still drawing," he replied.

"I see, that's cool. I... I'm full-time into it now," I admitted.

His eyes widened. "Damn, you made it!"

"I... it's an assistant job for an adult comic, calm down," I clarified.

"Still, you make a living out of it," he pointed out.

"You could say that, yeah," I said with a smile.

"Can I hug you?" he asked.

I couldn't answer before he did. Instantly, I knew I was back to having a crush on him. This man who always loved my stick figures, smiling and loving. His scent was like paint fumes, comforting yet toxic.

"I missed you," he said.

"You too," I admitted, stepping back.

The silence returned. I don't know why I ended up admitting that. I guess I was trying to fill the void. To panic about the silence. So, this confession slipped out stealthily from my lips, hoping to break the silence.

"I loved you, you know," I confessed.

"I knew," he replied.

Damn joke. I bit my lip when I saw him rummaging in his bag. A sketchbook, barely presentable, lay there, the year of our high school was written on it.

"This... I never showed you because we weren't talking during that year, but yeah, you... you were my muse," he explained.

I eagerly opened the sketchbook. And there they were. Sketch after sketch, painting after painting of me. Smiling, in the hallways, in class, angry, sometimes from memory. There was... only me. And John drew people he loved.

"Damn irony, huh. We don't love each other at the same time. It's... sad," I murmured.

"Oh well, you know... art is timeless, right?" he tried to lighten the mood.

I furrowed my brows.

"Tell that to the art restorers who bust their ass on Leonardo da Vinci's paintings," I retorted.

"Y/n, I'm not talking about that," he clarified.

My eyes met his.

"I... I don't know if this is a good idea," I admitted.

"I think it is," he said.

"John, I—"

"I can love hard enough for both of us, give me a chance. Let me draw you again," he pleaded.

"What if... it fails?" I voiced my fear.

"Then it fails, but I'm a pro at bombs, and you're one, so no risk," he said with a wink.

A silence settled.

"...that was horrible flirting," I finally said, breaking the silence.

"It worked, didn't it?" he replied with a smile.

"Okay," I murmured, feeling a glimmer of hope.

And for once, that evening, our two faces appeared at the same time in our sketchbooks.

If you want more : my masterlist

#soap x reader #john mctavish x reader #johnny mctavish x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader

[munsonsmixtapes]

Wanna Bet?

tattoo artist!eddie x fem!tattoo artist!reader

word count: 2.7k

cw: MDNI 18+ smut (p in v), Eddie receives a handjob, oral (m receiving), hurt no comfort

Part Four

Your kiss with Eddie had been plaguing your mind since it happened. You couldn’t stop thinking about how soft his lips were and his hand placement. You regretted not taking him up on his invitation to go back to his van, now wishing that you finally knew what he felt like inside you.

You needed him, but there was no way you were going to give up the chance to tattoo the most embarrassing thing on him. It would be on his thigh so when girls pulled down his pants, they would laugh and then leave him alone with nothing but his hand to take care of the job.

Your need to sleep with Eddie was starting to outweigh your need to win and you were starting to feel pathetic. You had only kissed him once and you were already starting to feel hypnotized. Like you'd do anything he asked because the words had come out of his mouth. One look into those pretty brown eyes and you were always a goner.

You entered the shop and made a beeline for Eddie’s office, Steve hot on your heels. He had loaned you a DVD and still hadn’t gotten it back so he had been badgering you about it every time he saw you. If you were being honest, you had no idea where it was and hadn’t even been looking for it because you had been a little distracted.

“Hey, y/n,” he called after you and you turned around just as you were about to knock on Eddie’s office door. Steve made his way towards you and you tried to not seem annoyed. Couldn’t he see that you were busy?

“Hey, Stevie!” You greeted, maybe a little too enthusiastically. You were trying to not seem obvious about what you were doing, but why else would you have gone down the hallway?

“Have you gotten a chance to look for that movie? I’d really like it back.” He crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to look intimidating, but you just laughed at him. He couldn’t intimidate you if he tried.

“Sorry, no. I’ve been busy with job applications and such, but I promise I’ll get it back to you. I swear.” You were willing to say anything to get him to go away even if that meant lying straight to his face.

“Good, good,” he nodded, then stepped closer to you. “What are you doing back here?” He looked around the very empty hallway and you supposed it was a good question. You never came to the shop and when you did, you didn’t go down that hallway. “The only thing that’s back here is-“ he cut himself off when he turned to Eddie’s office door.

“Oh no, not you too, y/n.” He shook his head in disappointment. He really thought you had been different and now that he knew that you were like every other girl, he was starting to think differently of you.

“What are you talking about?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Like always, you had no idea what he was talking about, noticing that the man would just say whatever came to mind whenever he was talking to you.

“You’ve been dickmatized,” he rested his hands on your shoulders, looking at you intently. It was as if he was giving you a very serious diagnosis as he was saying the words. “But don't worry, I can help.” He seemed worried, like the idea of you sleeping with Eddie was the worst thing that could have ever happened.

“Dickmatized?” Now you really didn’t know what he was talking about. You had never heard that word in your life.

“Yeah, dickmatized. Hypnotized by his dick.” He was very right. You had been dickmatized and you hadn’t even seen Eddie’s dick. But you were about to and Steve definitely didn’t need to know that.

“Steve, Eddie and I haven’t fucked, not that it would be your business if we had. I’m just here to pay him back for drinks the other night.” You pulled a twenty out of your pocket as your proof and he seemed to believe it.

“Oh.” He let go of your shoulders and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god. Thought I’d lost another one.” He reached up and clapped you on the back. “Good for you, y/n. You didn’t give into him and I’m proud of you. Well, I should get back to work, but I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, Steve, see you around.” You waved, trying your best to stay calm. The man had been driving your crazy and you just wanted to leave you the fuck alone for once.

He turned on his heel and headed to the door that was at the end of the hall. Once it was closed, you feverishly knocked on Eddie’s door, hoping that Steve wasn’t going to come back. The door was ripped open and Eddie’s eyes widened as his locked on yours. Before he could say anything, you pushed him inside and slammed the door behind you.

Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to his and he was quick to return your kiss, the whole thing rushed and messy. Your arms wrapped around his waist while his went to your shoulders, pulling you flush to his body, leaving no space between the two of you.

He licked into your mouth and your lips wrapped around his tongue, giving it a suck, eliciting a whimper to fall from his lips. You gave it one more rough suck then placed your lips back on his, letting your hands move around to his front. They slid down his shirt until you got to the top of jeans. You took no time to stick your hand down it, on a search for his dick. Once you found it, you wrapped your hands around it and gave it a few slow pumps.

“Oh,” he moaned and you moved a little faster, only making him moan even more. The sounds he was making were so hot, causing your underwear to dampen as you heard them.

“Yeah? You like that?” You asked, moving the fastest you could and his forehead fell to your shoulder as even more moans fell from his mouth.

“So good.” You gave a few more pumps then removed your hand from his pants. Your lips were back on his in a flash and you backed him up until his back hit the desk, his hands resting on it so he wouldn’t fall.

“I can take care of that for you,” you looked down at the tent in his pants and his eyes followed yours. He nodded his head enthusiastically and you dropped to your knees, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling both them and his underwear down, letting them hit his ankles. You stared at his cock that was right in front of you and couldn’t help but notice how big it was. Cum was pouring from the tip and you looked up at him, a flirty look on your face.

“It’s so nice of you to do all of this for me, baby. Practically creamed your pants, huh?” Your hand wrapped around the base and you took him into your mouth giving his dick a suck while your tongue swirled around the head. Eddie’s hands gripped onto the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white as he threw his head back at the pleasure he was experiencing.

“Shit,” he moaned, his breath becoming heavy. He closed his eyes, trying hard to prevent his knees from buckling.

You continued to suck, taking all of his mouth, ignoring the fact that your eyes were watering, desperate to give him the best head of his life. Your tongue swiped along to tip another time as you sucked the hardest you could, eliciting the prettiest sounds from Eddie.

After a few more moans, you removed Eddie’s cock from your mouth and swallowed before standing back up, Eddie pulling his shirt off as you did so. You then moved around to his desk and rifled through the drawers for a condom and found that they littered the bottom left drawer. You grabbed one, not even bothering to close the drawer before you headed back to Eddie. You handed the condom to him and he fiddled with the packet, but eventually got it open. He then went to roll it on, but you stopped him before you could.

“Can I do it?” You asked and without a word, Eddie handed the thing to you. You rolled it onto his cock then quickly removed your clothes before Eddie’s mouth was on yours again, his tongue making its way into your mouth as he pushed you against the wall before slamming his dick into you.

“Shit, Eddie.” No one had ever been that rough with you before and you’d have been lying if you said you didn’t like it. The way his fingers were practically forming bruises with how hard they were digging into your waist.

“I know, sweet thing.” His hands gripped your hips as he pounded into you, causing you to let out the prettiest, loudest moans and Eddie was so grateful that he had finally made the room soundproof so his “meetings” didn’t disrupt the rest of the shop anymore.

“Just so you know, this isn’t part of the bet.” Eddie honestly hadn’t even been thinking about that. The only thing on his mind was how much he was enjoying himself. He had honestly forgotten about the bet until you had brought it up.

“Of course it’s not. Just couldn’t resist me, could you?” He pounded into you once more, this time harder and faster.

“Oh-” you moaned. “And you couldn’t resist me either. Which makes a lot of sense, since I’m smokin’, right?” Your hands wound into his hair at the back of his head as you buried your face into his neck and he thrusted and thrusted into you, moans that had fallen from your lips being the only thing that could be heard throughout the room.

“So smokin’, like you have no idea.” His hands moved to your ass and gripped the spot right under it. You took that as an invitation to wrap your legs around his waist which gave his dick more access to your cunt. He continued to pump in and out of you, pumping the hardest he ever could and you moaned louder than you ever have before, vowing to never tell Eddie that it had been the best sex of your life.

Once he had pulled out, you both cleaned yourself up and got dressed, trying your best to make yourselves look like you hadn’t just had sex in Eddie’s office, even though it was going to be pretty obvious to everyone that you had since that was one of the only reasons that people had gone in there.

You pulled out your compact mirror out of your back pocket and fixed your hair, making sure it didn’t look like a fucking mess before you left. Eddie watched you as he leaned against his desk, already trying to figure out ways to get you to fuck him again. Outside of the bet, of course. He wanted to keep it going for as long as he could, because he knew that you’d want nothing to do with you as soon as it was over.

He hated to admit it, but he liked spending time with you. He liked your quick quips and how you didn’t fall at his feet like other women did. And he didn’t even see you as a challenge anymore. You were no longer someone who he just wanted to sleep with and never call again. In fact, he wanted you to be the only person he called.

His heart raced in his chest as he had that realization and decided that he needed to call the whole thing off. No fucking way was he falling for you. He couldn’t. That would ruin his whole thing. His whore tendencies had already been put to a halt when he started the whole bet with you and he wasn’t going to let you take the only pleasure he had in life away from him.

“Well, I’m going to head out,” you said, pulling him out of his thoughts. Thank god. He couldn’t look at you anymore without wanting to pull you into his arms for a romantic kiss. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Okay,” he replied a little too quickly as you buttoned up your shirt and he couldn’t help but want to help you. He was starting to feel disgusted with himself. He was turning into the kind of guys he made fun of. Only pussies fell in love and Eddie was most definitely not a pussy.

He stood from the desk and rested a hand on your back, ushering you to the door, so desperate for you to leave. He couldn’t look at or be around you anymore. He was getting a weird feeling in his stomach and it was making him sick.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he opened the door in a rush. He was acting weirder than usual. Maybe he was just like Steve had accused him of being when you had overheard their conversation. You didn’t know why you cared since you had been using him as well, but you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he was so quick to just kick you out.

“I’ve got a client coming in and you don’t want to be here when they get here, do you?” Eddie was definitely patting himself on the back for coming up with that lie on the spot.

“I guess not,” you shrugged as he practically pushed you out of the office. You turned to say something, but you could see the door swinging in your direction.

“Great,” he replied, slamming the door in your face, not even letting your get a word in. What the fuck was wrong with him.

“Dick!” You called after him then stomped down the hall. You pulled the door open and didn’t even bother closing it as you headed to your car. You muttered a bunch of rude things under your breath as you unlocked the door. Once you were inside, you slammed the door and cranked the car before speeding out of the parking lot.

You couldn’t believe that you had been stupid enough to think that he actually liked you. He was so sweet to you at the bar and then after he fucked you, he turned right back into the asshole you knew him to be. You were decently calling off the bet now. There was no way you were going to see him after. Not after he practically ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped on it.

You felt like a goddamn idiot for actually trusting him. For thinking that he was anything other than the loser that showered women with his sweet words only to sleep with them and never call even though he swore up and down that he was.

As soon as you were out of the room, Eddie pressed himself against the door and slid down it, falling to the floor. He rubbed his hands roughly along his face, now feeling like an absolute dick for kicking you out like that. You were definitely never going to want to talk to him again and maybe that was a good thing. He couldn’t be your boyfriend. He didn’t do that, even though he kind of wanted to for you.

He found himself wanting to take you out on a date where you laughed at his jokes and shared your meals with each other. He found himself wanting to dress up in a suit and take you to a nice restaurant where he could wine and dine you. Where he could rest his hand on top of yours and tell you just how pretty he thought you were.

But he’d never do that. He was going to deny that shit until the day he died. He’d bury it so deep until he couldn’t even remember that he could even possess those kinds of feelings. The whole thing was so embarrassing and he’d be damned if anyone found out. As far as Eddie was concerned, he was going to take his crush on you to the grave.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #tattoo artist!eddie x tatoo artist!reader #tattoo artist!eddie x reader

[jenniferjareauwife]

On Repeat

pairing: jennifer jareau x cowgirl fem reader

category: hurt/comfort

warnings: rape

word count: 1063

summary: it's around the anniversary of when you were raped but you haven't told jj so she keeps trying to initiate sex but you're not in the mood

JJ's hand rode a bit higher up my thigh, caressing it teasingly as she bit her lip. I was watching tv but her eyes were only on me. "Look at me baby." She demanded in a low voice.

"I'm not in the mood Jayje." I mumbled, putting her hand on my knee instead of my upper thigh. She sighed and squeezed my knee. I could tell she wanted to say something but was holding back. "What is it?"

"Did I do something?" Her voice was small. I furrowed my brows.

"What do you mean?"

"I've tried to initiate sex probably a thousand times the last few weeks and you've turned me down every time. It's ok if you don't want to have sex but you've never turned me down this many times before. So...did I do something to make you mad? Or uncomfortable?"

"No you didn't do anything." I huffed and got up to get some water. I didn't realize she had noticed I was turning sex down so much and I didn't realize she was thinking it was because of her.

"Then what is it baby?" She got off my couch and walked over to me, hugging me from behind. "We see each other two days a week...and I love having sex with you. I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't want to do. It's ok if you don't want to have sex that's completely fine...I just want to know what's wrong."

"Nothings wrong JJ, ok?" I gripped my glass tightly.

"Ok...ok I'll stop pushing. But if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here." I nodded and went to my room for some alone time, crying into my pillow so quietly she couldn't hear.

When I went to DC the next weekend to see her she tried to initiate sex again. I didn't have the heart to tell her no, especially after I realized that she thought it was her fault. So I gave in and the next thing I knew I was naked on her bed. She kissed down my neck lovingly while I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to suppress memories I had tried so hard to forget. "You're so fucking beautiful baby." She moaned against my neck. "I can't wait to make you feel good. Get up. I wanna hit it from the back." My heart dropped but I did it anyways. I rolled over onto my stomach and she lifted my hips so my ass was in the air. This was the exact position I was in when it happened. I tried to tell myself it was JJ. It wasn't him, it was my beautiful, loving girlfriend who would never do anything to hurt me.

No matter what I told myself my brain kept spiraling. My mouth was dry and the memories were playing on repeat. I felt her like herself up and I froze, my whole body just stopped working. Suddenly I was the 19 year old girl again who got raped in the back of a bar. "Hey...hey baby." I felt JJ's hand on the small of my back. I didn't feel the tip of the strap anymore. Did she realize something was wrong? "Hey hey hey baby talk to me." I tried to speak but my voice caught in my throat. "It's ok. Can you get onto your back for me?" I did as she said very slowly. It was taking so much brainpower just to move my limbs. "Good girl."

"JJ." I was able to say her name.

"Yeah baby? What is it?" She reached out to touch my face and I gave her a small nod, telling her she could.

"I can't...I can't do it I'm sorry. I thought I could but I can't." I sniffled, my bottom lip quivering.

"That's ok my love. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do." She caressed my cheek gently, leaning forward to kiss my forehead. "And I know you might not want to talk about it right now but I need to know what happened. What made you react this way?" My lip trembled at the thought of telling her. Would she even look at me the same way? She looked at me with soft, loving eyes and it took me everything in me not to break down.

"I-I when I was 19..." I trailed off, avoiding eye contact. I wasn't going to be able to do it if I was looking at her.

"Would it be better if you couldn't see me?" JJ asked softly. I nodded so she got behind me. "Is it ok if I spoon you?" I nodded so she draped her arm over my waist, pulling me as close to her as possible.

"When I was 19...I was in a bar." I sniffled. "I had a fake ID and I wanted to go out with some friends, you know? Normal dumb teen stuff." JJ pressed kisses on my back from behind, calming me down. "A-and I met this guy. I think he liked me or something cause he kept trying to talk to me. I-I told him I wasn't interested but he kept talking to me." I let out a choked sob.

"Oh baby." She cooed, rubbing my stomach. She knew where this was going.

"I don't really remember what happened after that...I just know...that the next thing I remembered-" I got cut off by a shaky breath. "I was in the back of the bar- and he was behind me." I sniffled. "Thrusting into me."

"My love I'm so sorry that happened to you. Did it trigger you when I got you into that position?" I nodded.

"It's around the anniversary."

"So all those memories are coming back up, huh?" She kissed my shoulder and stroked my hair.

"Mhm. And I know I should've told you sooner-"

"Hey. None of that." She kissed my ear and my jaw. "You tell me things on your own time." I relaxed and pressed my back further into her. She held me tighter before kissing the back of my head. "You're safe with me baby."

"Thank you...for making me feel safe."

"I'm glad you feel safe with me. I'm happy to be your safe space whenever you need me to be. I love you so much. Don't you ever forget that."

"I love you too."

#x reader #criminal minds #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #wlw post #lgbtq #jennifer jareau x you

[ticklishbeans4]

I saw your requests open and wanted to ask is you could write a fic for Lee!Vox and Ler!Alastor? I don’t really have any idea for a plot, so I’ll leave that up to you if you feel like writing this!

So! I got these two asks and decided to combine them! And the drabble turned into... more than a drabble XD so I hope you like it!

“Stohohohohop!” Alastor squealed as he wiggled and kicked under Vox’s claws, his hooves clicking together happily.

“You don’t want me to stop ya goof~” Vox replied teasingly, his sparking claws turning the oh so feared Radio Demon, into a mess of giggles and deer barks.

Honestly it was adorable how easily the man came undone under his touch. A slide of a claw across his belly had him nearly doubling over, blowing gently into his ear made him squeal, and forget ever trying to give him a hoof massage! Vox tried once and got a broken screen out of it, though it was a great lesson in properly restraining the man when he tried to tickle him in the future. Like right now!

He was sat upon Alastors arms, pinning them above his head. He could kick and wiggle all he liked now, but he wasn’t going anywhere! His claws were making a mess of him, one was scribbling and tasering into his underarm, the other was poking and prodding at his ribs in a random staccato that produced a beautiful symphony of cackles. The best part about it all though? He knew Alastor was loving every second of this. It’s why he wasn’t really trying to escape. They both knew if the deer really wanted, he could simply teleport out or use his shadow tendrils to pull Vox off him, plus, he could read his friend well enough to know when he’d had enough, and he wasn’t a total dick, he understood boundaries. And when it came to Alastor, especially with touch, there were a LOT of boundaries.

Still, he happily carried on, digging into Alastors fluffy belly with both hands, making him shriek and buck wildly under him. God this was fun! He was having such a good time right now! “Tickle tickle tickle~ Awww does someone love his tickles? Oh yes you do! Yes you do!” he teased, knowing how much baby talking flustered the deer. “Who’s a ticklish little fawn? You are! Oh yes you are!”

“SHUT UHUHUP!” he cackled in reply, his filter cutting in and out as he laughed, like it always did. It was like he couldn’t decide if he liked it or not, but Vox knew he did, otherwise he wouldn’t have ever allowed this to happen.

Unfortunately for Vox, Alastor was a sneaky bitch. And before he knew it, Vox was dangling by his underarms in the air, Alastors tendrils having snuck up behind him. “Hey! No fair! Let me down!”

Alastor let himself breath for a moment, the residual giggles fading like static in the air. “Goodness! What a rush! I can’t simply let you go now! You have to experience the same joy and laughter I did! It’s only fair my dear friend!”

Shit. Well, he supposed it was only a matter of time before the tables turned on him. “W-Wahahahit! Hold on!” he giggled, already a mess of nerves before Alastor even touched him. “W-We can t-talk about thihihis right? We’re both c-civilized gentlemen! Right?”

“We can be civilized when we go outside, when it’s just us two, I think it’s ok to be a little rowdy!” he smirked back in reply, his claws wiggling as they slowly drew closer to Vox’s sides.

Vox couldn’t stop the nervous anticipatory giggles that poured from his lips. It was always the build up that got to him the most, knowing that any moment he could strike, and Alastor was never one to do what was expected, so those claws could be going anywhere! It made his whole body feel like phantom fingers were wiggling into his ticklish spots just imagining what his friend was planning.

It was then that he was thrown a curveball, a tendril swiped the back panel of his head. The result was immediate, fuzzy static covered his screen before he squealed and jerked his head away. That was very much a new spot! He didn’t know that place was even ticklish!

“What a fun little discovery! I can’t wait to see what other surprises you hold my friend~” Alastor purred, a tendril swiping back and forth over the new tickle spot, making him squeal and cackle wildly, his voice cutting in and out, like he was losing signal. And honestly? He loved it! He had a hard time admitting it, but he loved this shit almost as much as Al did!

“AHAHAHAHAHA! SHIHIHIHIT!” he cackled, kicking and twisting about, till Alastor caught his ankle and swiftly popped off his shoe. “WAHAHAHAIT NO! DOHOHON’T!”

Alastor just chuckled, examining the appendage, it wasn’t a hoof or a human-like foot… it was a computer mouse. “How very odd! What happens when I…” he experimentally rolled the ball at the underside of the mouse, earning a loud laughing shriek from Vox, “My my! Such a sensitive little spot! You certainly have a lot of those!”

Vox could tell, this was gonna be a long, and very fun, day.

#hazbin hotel tickle fic #hazbin hotel tickle #switch!Alastor #switch!Vox