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roguerogerss · 8 months

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Wanted To Have You

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

W/C: 3.7k (i think i didn’t check tbf)

Warnings: mention of smut (no actual smut though), swearing, arguing

(welcome back babes, missed you. tommy has been on my mind all the time recently so i decided i’d bang something out and post it. it’s basically just word vomit tbh but hope u enjoy. LOVE a lil bit of angst when it comes to peaky blinders and hope u do too!! luv u the most b back soon)

***

Birds chirped, the sounds of the market opening began, golden sunlight poured in through the window. The morning had come too early, but Tommy was always a sight to see in the morning.

Laid on his back, one arm curled loosely around her waist, the other on his chest, right above a bullet scar that Y/N had helped Polly to stitch up in early January. His lips were parted slightly, chest rising and falling, dark lashes settled on ruddy cheeks.

She smiled and traced the tattoo on his chest ever so lightly with the tip of her painted fingernails, her way of quietly waking him up. It always worked, and today was no exception. He sighed as he stirred, a small smile making it's way onto his face.

"G'mornin', love." How she loved the way that his voice sounded in the morning. Heavy with the day before's cigarettes, low and gravelly, Brum accented. "Sleep okay?"

"Slept great." She was so tired from the night before's antics that she couldn't have stayed awake another second after they'd collapsed onto the mattress and he'd pulled her close underneath the sheets. "Did you?"

Tommy hummed, "Mm, slept alright. Wasn't great, thinkin' a lot."

"Thinkin' about what?" Her fingers absentmindedly wandered from his tattoo to the back of his neck, tugging at the short hairs that gathered there.

"Business stuff, darlin'. Nothin' for you to worry your pretty little head about." He gave a soft, bleary-eyed smile and pressed a hand to her cheek, thumb stroking back and forth.

"Tommy, you always say it's just 'business stuff'. Why won't you just tell me what's going on for once?" She wasn't angry, really, but the pout on her face might've said otherwise. Business stuff was the closest that she ever got to knowing anything about Tommy's personal life.

But rumours fly, and she'd heard a lot from the people of the town that made her think that her Thomas wasn't as innocent as she thought he might be.

"I've told you. It's not important, nothing you'd want to hear." His voice strained as he stretched, biceps flexing as he raised his arms above his head. "Would bore ya, honest."

"You don't bore me, Tom." She looked up at him through her lashes and he gave a short-lived chuckle and ran his fingers soothingly through her hair.

"I have to get up." He ignored her statement and gave her a quick kiss on the top of the head, before rolling over and sitting up. He was still only wearing his underwear, and so she marvelled at the way that the muscles in his back flexed as he moved to grab his previously ironed button-down shirt from the side table.

She almost forgot that she was angry as he got up and pulled his slacks on, shirt still unbuttoned and the light hitting his toned torso just right. "I'll see you later, sweetheart." Tommy leaned down to place a kiss on his girl's lips, barely taking a second to enjoy the feeling but really only doing it so that he could continue to taste her on his lips for the next hour or so.

"Family meeting?" It was obvious that Y/N was unimpressed, but Tommy either didn't notice or was pretending that he hadn't, because he didn't comment and simply nodded. "And I can't come?”

"Told ya." Tommy tucked his shirt into his slacks and knotted his tie, eyeing Y/N all the while. "Would bore you."

He wanted to tell her about what he did. He really, really did. But he also wanted to keep her, and he knew that he couldn't do both. There was no way that she'd want to stay with him if she knew about all of the terrible things that he'd done, and so he'd made everyone who worked with him agree that she was never to know.

He supposed that she'd get suspicious at some point, but he hadn't expected that point to come so soon. It had been a year, and he figured that the towns people spoke and that she heard, but he was dreading having to actually let her know by himself.

"And I've told you," Y/N had gotten up, pulling her silk robe around her small body and padding lightly across the floor to where Tommy stood. She fixed out his jacket and smoothed down his shirt affectionately. "You don't bore me."

"We can talk later." Tommy smiled softly, hand smoothing Y/N's hair against her head as he pressed his lips to her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. She made him linger for a second, hands grabbing at the back of his neck and holding him in place as their lips moved together.

Tommy chuckled and pressed his forehead against hers. "I have to go.

"Fine." She pecked his lips once again and then let him go. "Go about your business, Mr Shelby."

"As I will, Miss Y/L/N." He smiled and then he was gone, unlocking the bedroom door and slipping out of the room.

Y/N was furious. That was really the only word that she could think of to describe the sheer anger that bubbled inside of her. Thomas Shelby is a Peaky Blinder.

And she knew that the statement from the woman at the market wasn't a lie. What other reason would he have to hide everything from her? To never tell her about his life or where he'd been or why he would often come to bed at ungodly hours?

She stormed into their shared home and, upon seeing him sat at the kitchen table, cigarette in hand, decided that she couldn't deal with him. And so she threw him a look and then took off up the stairs to their bedroom.

Tommy followed, of course he did, yelling her name and asking what was going on. But she ignored him, simply sitting down on the bed and waiting for him to join her.

"What's wrong, love? Did someone do something? I swear, I'll-"

"You'll what, Tommy?" She stood then, still keeping her distance but crossing the room only slightly. "Cut them? Kill them?"

"What the hell is this about?" Tommy sighed. He seemed bored already, unprepared to listen to her ramble because, oh, Thomas Shelby knew that his girlfriend could ramble for hours.

"Let me see your hat." She knew what the Peaky Blinders were, she knew fair well what the name meant, and she needed to confirm what the townsfolk had told her. "Where is it? Show me it!" She started searching for the hat, opening drawers and cabinets, she knew that she had to find it, because she had to know.

"Y/N, calm down, for God's sake." Tommy clasped a hand around her forearm, but she yanked it away and simply stared up at him, tears threatening to fall from her already glassy eyes.

"Are you one of them?" Her voice was almost a whisper, so quiet and timid that maybe Thomas wouldn't have heard her if they weren't almost chest to chest. "Are you a Peaky Blinder, Tommy?"

And now she was really crying, tears smudging the makeup on her cheeks and clouding her vision as Tommy's piercing blue eyes stared down at her. He was thinking, thinking about whether it was best to tell the truth or to leave, and thinking about what the consequences of each would be.

What would she do if he told her? Would she yell? Hate him? Would she leave? And what if he left? Would she let him back in?

But she looked so vulnerable, was crying so hard because she already knew the answer. And Tommy wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her head and wipe the tears from her eyes. But it was his fault that she was crying, he'd caused the tears and the hurt. And he had to tell her.

"Yes." Her heart felt like it might've stopped. Because Tommy was the only person that she trusted, and now she felt like she knew nothing about him.

The room fell silent, she stared at him and waited for words to come, and she waited, and waited. Thomas wouldn't break eye contact with her. In truth, because he was scared that, if he did, he'd never look into her eyes again, she'd leave and she wouldn't come back, she'd go back to Ireland, back where people told her things because that was the right thing to do, because they weren't afraid of what the Peaky Blinders might do to them.

She decided, after a few beats of standing still, staring at him, heavy breaths coming from both of them, that she couldn't look at him anymore. She'd been waiting for him to say something, anything, that would mean that this had all been some sort of sick joke. He'd start laughing, tell her he was kidding, that the woman at the market had told her that just to see how she would react. She'd be angry, yes, but it'd only be short lived, and it wouldn't change anything.

But he didn't, and he wouldn't, because she already knew there was no hint of a lie in what she'd been told. She took a last, deep breath, and then departed to the other side of the room, where she turned her back to Thomas and took a few more deep breaths.

"Listen, love, I...I wanted to tell you-"

"Don't, Thomas."

"I really did. I wanted to. But I knew you'd react like this-"

"And so you thought that keeping it from me was right? You thought that holding the threat of the Peaky Blinders over the entire town's head to keep them quiet, was the right thing to do? You thought I'd be happy when I eventually found out?" Thomas found himself falling silent, speechless. He was never speechless.

"I was hoping to tell you myself."

"Well, you missed the opportunity to do that two years ago, Thomas." She'd picked up her handbag now, and Thomas noticed that tears had pricked his eyes and were threatening to fall. "To think I worked for you, as your secretary. I signed off your fucking books, I made phone calls for you, you involved me in this without even telling me, you didn't even ask me if that was what I wanted, Thomas."

"I know, and I'm sorry-"

"Pack your things."

"Love-"

"Pack your things, Thomas. And don't you ever call me anything other than my name."

And with that, she'd gone. To where, Thomas wasn't sure, but he found himself watching her, almost in slow motion, as she stormed through their bedroom door. He could hear her heels clicking as she hurried down the stairs, the brief pause as she pulled her coat - the one he'd bought her for their anniversary - around her body, and then the click open and slam shut of the front door.

He lowered himself onto the bed, placed his head in his hands, and sat for a few minutes in silence. The window was open, and so the sounds of the bustling street below floated upstairs, and he tried not to listen. The thought that she was out there, inconsolably upset, with every intention of leaving him, because of a mistake he'd made off his own back seemed entirely too much to handle.

So he closed the window, lay back on the bed, and lit the end of a cigarette. He needed to figure out a way to make things right by her, after all, Thomas Shelby didn't care about opinions, but what she thought of him was the most important thing in the world.

She'd gone to the Shelby's family home, mostly to try to seek comfort from either Ada or Polly, but also to berate the brothers for not thinking to tell her their secret.

She burst through the front door, to find Polly and Ada at the dining table, each smoking a cigarette. They jumped up when they saw her, womanly instinct coming into full effect, knowing that something must've been wrong from the way she'd stormed in, and the look on her face when she had.

"What's he done, my love?" Polly was always best at being able to tell when Thomas had messed up, and she was always on the right track when it came to guessing what he'd done wrong. His aunt knew him better than anyone, as much as he'd hate to admit it.

"Did you know?" She was breathing heavily, trying not to let the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes slide down her cheeks.

"Know what, love?" Ada had come to Y/N's side now, guiding her to sit down at the kitchen table, and had shooed the men away, into the drawing room, after Arthur had come mooching for a bottle of rum.

"Did you know what he was doing?" Her eyes were full of tears now, making it hard for her to see properly. She placed her elbows on the table and used the sides of her palms to wipe the tears as they fell. Polly pulled her chair over so that she was sat close to Y/N.

"Calm down, sweetheart." Polly placed a tentative hand on her arm, "What has he done?" His aunt could feel her heart drop in her chest, from the way that Y/N was speaking, she was almost certain that her nephew had cheated on his girlfriend.

"Did you know he was a Peaky Blinder? Is that what they're doing through there?" Y/N was really crying now, looking that horrible, vulnerable way that Tommy hated. Arthur had opened the door a crack, and he, John, and Finn were peeking out at the women sat in the kitchen.

Ada sighed and ran a hand over her face, and Polly seemed to erupt into anger, "We bloody told him, didn't we Ada? We told him you'd find out, but he listened to these bloody idiots," She jabbed a finger at the doors to the drawing room, which made Arthur crack up like a child, provoking Polly to pick up a teaspoon from the table and throw it at his face. "The women in this house are apparently the only ones with any sense in them."

"Why wouldn't he tell me, Polls?"

Polly took a long pause before answering. Thomas's reasonings had never been clear, behind any of his madness, and, even while having known him his entire life, she often wondered what the method behind the goings-on in his life was. "Listen, love, you know he loves you, yes?"

Y/N nodded slowly, a puzzled expression crossing her face. "Then you know how he protects the people he loves. Yes, he does all of this bad work, but he doesn't want you to know because he's scared something will happen to you if you know too much. And he doesn't want you to see him as this monster, Thomas Shelby, the leader of the Peaky Blinders. Sometimes, he just wants to be Tommy. Do you know what I'm saying?"

Polly, as always when she assumed anything about Tommy, was right. He'd liked Y/N from the moment he'd hired her to work as his secretary, but he knew she wasn't the type to turn a blind eye to his work. He supposed it was selfish, not telling her, but he wanted her to know him for who he was, not what he did.

She let out a sigh, partly letting go of all of the anger she'd built up towards Tommy, and partly because she was relieved to hear what his aunt had to say about it. "I know what you're saying, Pol."

A long pause followed, with only the bustle of the drawing room keeping the place from being in dead silence. Polly's hand was still resting on Y/N's arm, and Ada's on her back, and she found herself able to forgive. The Shelby women certainly had their ways.

"What do you want to do, love?" Polly broke the silence that had settled on the room.

"I don't know." Y/N couldn’t even think of anything else that she could say, she truly didn’t know what she wanted. Polly’s face contorted slightly, and Ada rubbed her hand up and down over Y/N’s back.

"Well, are you going to tell him it's over?" Ada asked, voice quiet, so as not to alert the men in the other room that anything too serious was being spoken about. She thought for a moment, feeling a pang of sadness come over her at the fact that she had to even think about whether or not she wanted to end things with Tommy.

"No. No, I'm not going to do that."

Polly breathed out, a breath that she didn’t even know she’d been holding, and wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her in and squeezing her in a way reminiscent of a mother holding her daughter.

"Okay. Okay, good. He does love you, so much, you know that?” It was a rhetorical question, and Polly didn’t leave enough time for Y/N to even answer. “Do you want to go home? Or will Ada boil the kettle and we can have a brew?"

"A brew would be nice."

The air was almost cold when she left the Shelby house to start the walk home. Summer was coming to an end now, but the sky was still bright past nine. She'd begun noticing things that she hadn't before, after finding out Thomas's secret. People would greet her profusely as she walked down the street, some even going out of their ways to let her past. They'd hold their children back from walking in front of her, the men working at the furnace would shield her from any soot that might come her way.

It felt strange, like Thomas was king of Small Heath and she was his Queen, and god forbid anyone see what might happen if they disrespect the Queen. She made an effort of smiling and thanking these people, showing that she didn't actually need them to be doing these things for her, but they did them regardless.

When she reached the front door of the house she shared with Thomas, she stood for a moment, simply staring at the front door. The mark was still there from the nail Thomas had banged into it months ago now, so that she could hang a holly wreath there to celebrate Christmas. He'd called it unnecessary, but they'd only just moved in together and she'd been so excited for their first Christmas in their new home, she'd come home from work one day to find the largest wreath Thomas could find at the market, hanging on their front door.

She smiled to herself, suddenly feeling emotional with all of the memories of their time together coming flooding back. She opened the door.

She was pleased to find that, when she got home, Thomas's hat and coat were still hanging on the coat stand at the front door. His pocket watch on the mantelpiece, shoes still placed neatly at the door. He hadn't gone anywhere yet.

"Thomas?" She called, and was met with the sound of soft footsteps in the bedroom.

"Upstairs." His voice was quiet, small, something that hurt her to hear. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him truly upset, even after two whole years.

She placed her handbag on the floor and draped her coat over the coat stand, then crossed the hallway and climbed the stairs to their bedroom, where Tommy was sat on the bed, head in his hands, suitcase at his feet. She felt a piece of her heart chip away upon seeing him.

"I'll be gone soon enough, I just-I didn't want to believe that-"

"Do you want to leave, Tom?" She took a few steps towards him, and Tommy lifted his head to look at her for the first time. His eyes were red, and she knew that Tommy Shelby strictly did not cry, except when it came to her.

A pause followed, Tommy simply staring up at her, opening and closing his mouth every now and again, thinking of the right thing to say. Was there a right thing to say?

"You know I'm not really religious. But I've been praying all day that you'd come home and we'd be fine again." A small, sad looking smile had settled on his face.

"Maybe you should start going to church, then." She placed her house keys down on the bedside table, she was here to stay. Tommy felt a weight lifted from his shoulders as she gave him a small smile and held her arms out to him, letting him back in, “Come here."

He didn’t hesitate, pulling her into his lap and wrapping himself tightly around her. Please don’t leave again, he was saying, eyes closed and cheek pressed to her stomach. Her arms settled around his neck, one hand drawing comforting patterns on his shoulder and the other smoothing his hair.

"I wasn't doing it to upset you." He needed an explanation for her, he owed her that, especially after she’d come back when he wouldn’t have blamed her for walking out of the door and never having a thought of him again.

"I know you weren't." He hated how forgiving she was. He hated that he’d done wrong, and, instead of just leaving like she deserved to, she’d come back and was comforting him, making him feel good about the lies he’d fed her. But he knew her all too well, he knew deep down she’d have forgiven him, because she wasn’t one to deal with things in any way other than graciously.

"No, sweetheart, I know I've been selfish. I know I’m not fair to you. But I'm only selfish because it's you." His hands roamed her back, underneath her dress, feeling every dip and scar, memorising them again, “I just wanted to have you, loved you since the minute I met you, I swear. Couldn't have you thinking of me as this cold, relentless monster. I just remember thinking you were too pure to know, thought I’d only ruin that if I got too close and you knew the truth.”

“I know you better than you know yourself, Tommy. You’ve got a heart in there, you know.” She gave him a small smile while he looked up at her, bright eyes piercing through dark eyelashes, “I don’t understand why you did all of this for me, you could’ve chosen another woman, one who you could’ve even helped you with your work all this time, but you chose someone who you felt like you had to hide everything from.”

“Told you already, I just wanted to have you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then one to your nose, and then your lips. “You, not anyone else, not a woman who’d do my work for me, not someone easy, I wanted to have you. And you know I’m selfish with things that I want.”

You were really smiling now. Tommy always knew the right things to say, always knew how to make you happy. You wrapped your arms around him again, and, while Tommy didn’t like to admit it, he felt safe with you, something that he didn’t feel in many places.

“Thomas Shelby, you’ll always have me.”

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders x reader

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forestshadow-wolf · 3 months

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"AH DON'T KNOW! Captain." Soap snapped, adding the honorific a moment later like an afterthought. "Jus'- ah'm ignorin' it an' hopein' it goes away." He huffs.

"'Hope' you're gonna 'hope' it goes away. You know it doesn't work that way, right?" Price scrutinized.

"Yeah, well what other choice do I have?"

"You could tell him."

@thejacketscloset @queermentaldisaster have fun :)

Soap scoffed at the mere suggestion. "What? So he can have a laugh? He doesnae do this, Price. And even if he did, it wouldnae be fer me." He crossed his arms petulantly.

They'd been fighting about it for the last fourty-five minutes now. Price apparently doesn't care about the fraternization, only focused on playing matchmaker. Not that he's not glad price isn't kicking him out, but I'd be a hell of a lot simpler.

"He h- He would. For you. Only you."

It's not exactly a secret. The thing that is definitely not a crush that he has for Ghost. But it's not exactly spoken either. And he's about 86.77% sure that Ghost is either unaware of it, or is politely ignoring it for him.

"Oh, yer really wankin' oot yer arse, noo, Cap. He wouldnae." His accent coming out thick with agitation.

"Well, regardless you have to do something, Soap. We both know it. You won't survive 'til next month if something doesn't change."

"Like what?" Soap stressed, Price tried to cut him off, but soap pressed on. "Capt- Captain. C'mon, really, what am I s'ppos'd t' do? Ah cannae exactly ask him tae fuck me, an tell me t' kill mah-self, and even if ah could it wouldnae do nothin' but make it worse."

"If you'd just listen to what I'm saying.." price griped, it sounded like he grumblesmd something else under his breath as well, but soap was too worked up to bother asking.

"Yeah and have me gutted like a fish. And ah'd let him. Price, I'd let him." He was almost pleading, for what? He didn't know. "Then ye'd be down a damn good soldier. And ah'm pretty sure you're no' allowed to keep Ghost around either after tha', legally dead or not."

"He won't gut you." Price chastised him. "Look if you won't tell him, or do something about it, then I won't risk your life on the field either." The man sighed.

"Wha- You're sidelinein' me?!" He sputtered, "ye cannae do that."

"I can, and I will if something doesn't change some time in the next week. And I will be watching." The tone in the captain's voice left no room for argument. "Dismissed."

Soap did NOT sulk down the hallway, back to his room to change into gym clothes, and out to the running track. John Mactavish does not sulk.

He was probably about three and a half laps away from running himself ragged when he felt Gaz jog up beside him.

"Roach says you're getting benched next week."

"Roach needs to learn when to bugger off." Soap huffed. They lapse into patterned breathing for a moment, but Gaz just can't let him wallow, can he?

"Is it because of the Gh-"

"Yes its because of the Ghost thing, okay?" He cuts the brit off, "and its not for sure, just... yeah okay, maybe it's for sure."

"...Price is right though, you could just tell him."

"Jesu- does bugboy tell you everything, or what?" Soap groans, they'd slowed to more of a slow jog now. "You know what- don't answer that. And you know as well as I do that ah cannae."

"I don't, actually." Gaz ignores his little comments. "You haven't seen the way he looks at you. And Roach says he talks about you." He plows on before Soap can get a word in, "the same way you talk to me about him."

"Gaz, he doesnae look at me in any sort of way." He deadpans. He's properly runned out now, they wonder off the track to stretch before hitting the showers.

"Dude- I'm telling you he does!" Gaz knocks their shoulders together with a playful grin.

"An' ah'm tellin' you he doesnae." Soap reciprocates.

"C'mon, man, the whole base sees it. It's like you've hung the moon and stars themselves, to him."

"Yeah, right." Soap laughs, disbelieving. "I'm more of an annoyance, than anything else to him."

"Yeah well, look, when it turns out I'm right I want a full batch of apology cookies, and I get to tell you I told you so."

"Sure, whatever." Soap agrees easily, confident in his own assessment. They part ways at the showers, both having their routines and dities to fulfill.

"Gary says Price is probably benching you at the end of the week, wanna explain that?" Ghost is nonchalantly leaning against the wall across from his door, seemingly waiting for him.

"That little vent dwelling twerp, just cannae keep his mouth shut can he-" soap sighs, unlocking his door, using the action to hide the thick lump he swallowed. "I'm nae getting benched." Probably..... he just needs to figure his shit out.

He pushes off the wall to follow soap into his room. "Is this about you taking all those solo missions? And how you've been doing your best to avoid me for months now?"

Yes- "No. Price is just being a numpty." He says, tossing his keys on the desk. He sits on his bed to unlace his boots.

"And your sure?" Ghost raises an eyebrow at him, he can tell from the way the mask shifts ever so Slightly. He's sitting in his desk chair now, facing him. "'cus uh.. I think Gary would say otherwise."

"Gary is a snitch, an' he doesnae ken how ta keep his mouth shut." He says pulling one boot off, and starting on the other

"He says there's something that the others are trying to convince you to tell me."

Soap grimaces as he pulls off his other boot, setting them neatly at the end of his bed.

"You can tell me, you know that.. right?"

"You dinnae want me to, L.T."

"Yeah? Try me." He deadpanned.

"You willnae like it." He warned, "and it'll change everything."

"I'm all ears."

"Uh.. k then... yeah ah lied, it is about. Yeh it's about tha'. It's nae-" he clears his throat, "it's not anything that you did, ah just... sometimes ah see you out of the corner of my eye.. and suddenly it's all I can pay attention to. An' I forget what ah'm supposed to be doin'. And ah forget every- everything except... an'- an' I've been takin' all the solos because it's the only time I can think, because every other time it's all just... I cannae seem to get myself to think about what ah need to." Once the words start, he can't seem to get them to stop, they just keep spilling out of his mouth. And Ghost doesn't stop him, just silently listening to him. And he really wishes he'd stop him, but he doesn't, and so he just keeps spewin' utter shite until his mouth runs out of steam.

Ghost doesn't say anything for a long while. Just looking at him, and he can't tell what he's thinking with the mask covering his face.

"You're wrong."

"What?"

"You're. Wrong." He says it slowly, like soap's some kind of idiot, and maybe he is. "This doesn't change anything.. and I do like it. I like it a lot."

Soap's brain short-circuits.

"I- huh?" Is his oh-so intelligent response.

"I'm telling you I feel the same."

"Oh." He says as his brain reboots. "... Roach is a snitch."

"Oh yeah, definitely."

"Ah shite."

"What?" Ghost sit forword in the chair.

"They'll never let this go now. Ah doubt shite- I owe Gaz a batch of cookies too."

Ghost only laughs at that.

#john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #gary roach sanderson #roach is a chronic nuisance. and a vent dweller #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghostsoap #background gazroach #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #el rambles #soap and gaz friendship my beloved #roach and ghost friendship my beloved

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lanadelnegan · 7 months

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My Past, My Future - Part 3

Negan x Reader x Daryl

part two here

part four here

Warnings: 18+, angst, kissing

Note: I thought this would be the final part, but clearly I lied. Part 4 WILL have smut, I promise.

The only light in front of you is the one coming from your dimmed flashlight as you trek further away from Alexandria.

Your destination isn't far, but you're still hyper aware of your surroundings since the walk is risky at night. You finally reach the wood line, pushing through the limbs and brush before reaching the open path that you and Daryl have walked together many times.

The sound of running water from the stream up ahead tells you you're getting close and you finally spot Daryl sitting next to a small fire, blankly staring out over the water. You click off your flashlight as you approach him, planting yourself next to him in the dirt as he ignores you.

"Daryl.."

"Don't." He grunts. "Got nothin' to say to you."

"Okay. Then I'll talk and you listen." You begin. "You should have told me how you felt. I - I didn't know."

He chuckles sarcastically under his breath. "Doesn't' matter."

"It matters to me.. If I would have known how you felt before I started getting to know Negan, things might have been different."

His head drops defeatedly and you feel guilty for giving him hope for the past, knowing it can't change the present.

"Look.. it doesn't matter because what's done is done. And I love him, Daryl. But... I love you too. You're my best friend and as cliché as it sounds, I mean that."

He looks at you for the first time since you sat down, showing you the hurt behind his dark blue eyes. Yours drop to his lips for a moment, seeing him in a different way than before, knowing how he feels about you.

"Carol told me what you did." You say in almost a whisper. "..about volunteering to go with Negan... You didn't have to do that..."

He ignores you until you have no choice but to bring your hand to his cheek and make him look at you. Your eyes linger on his face, seeing him in a new light and tracing the scar on his cheek. You lean forward, slowly pressing your lips to his scar and closing your eyes as a tear falls from your face.

When you pull back, his eyes are heavy and on your lips. "Daryl.." You warn, but he quickly leans forward joining your lips together and kissing you passionately. You let your hand disappear into his messy locks of hair, pulling him closer to you as a soft moan escapes your throat.

"Daryl.. we.. we can't" You say in between breaths, trying to convince yourself more than him.

"Tell me to stop then." He says, pulling away from you for a moment, giving you a chance to reject him, but you pull him close again and kiss him even harder than before.

Your body turns towards his as you open your mouth slightly, allowing him to push his tongue through. His rough hand reaches up to lightly grip your throat as he groans at the taste of your mouth.

You battle internally with yourself as your heart is tugged in two different directions, but the sound of leaves suddenly crinkling close by distracts you, causing both of you to stop and look around. You expect to see a walker, but no one is there.

Negan's POV:

Negan's heart sinks in his chest at the sight of you kissing Daryl, knowing he just lost you for good. He knows the old Negan would have stayed and fought for you. Maybe would have even 'eliminated the threat'. But despite everyone's beliefs, he has changed. And all he wants is for you to be happy, even if that means you being with someone else.

Leaves crinkle under his feet as he disappears from behind the tree, unable to watch the rest of whatever unfolds between you and Daryl.

Once you know it's safe, you turn your attention back to Daryl, who's already looking at you. You clear your throat as you look down between the two of you. "We.. we shouldn't have done that." You whisper, regretfully.

Daryl nods disappointedly as you rest your head on his shoulder. Moments pass as the two of you sit in silence staring over the water's surface.

"I want my best friend back." You finally say.

"Never left."

"But you did.. you came out here."

"Just needed some time, y/n."

Your fingers lace between his as you snuggle in closer to his shoulder.

"I need you to know something.." You begin. "There is no person on this earth I'd rather be sitting next to right now. When I'm with you, I feel like the best version of myself. Before I met you.. when the world first went to shit.. I wanted to die. Didn't see the point in living anymore. But you gave me hope.. gave my life meaning again. I wouldn't trade what we have for anything in this world. Every good memory I have... has you in it."

He wraps his arm around your lower back, bringing you closer to him and leaning his head on yours as you continue. "But, the love I have for Negan.. it's different. And I know that's not what you wanna hear. And I know you think he's awful, and maybe he was. But, he has changed... And he's my future."

Moments pass before Daryl finally speaks. "...... If he ever hurts you, I'll put a bullet in his skull." He threatens, pressing his lips gently to the top of your head.

"That's fair." You smile, feeling like a weight was just lifted off your shoulders.

You both make it back to the Alexandria safely, stopping in front of the gates until the guards let you in. The streets are quiet and dark as you walk hand in hand back to Daryl's house.

"You can stay if ya want." He suggests as you make it to the bottom of his porch steps.

"You know I can't."

He grunts. "I know."

You give him a kiss on the cheek before telling him goodnight and heading home to Negan.

Home to Negan. You repeat in your head, loving the sound of that.

You sprint up your porch steps, desperate to see him and make things right. You hate the way you left things earlier. Anything could have happened to you tonight, and you mentally scold yourself for leaving Negan on such harsh terms.

"Negan?!" You call out through the dark house.

The thought of him upstairs asleep in your bed makes your heart swoon as you rush up the stairs and open your bedroom door, only to find your bed empty.

"Fuck." You whisper frustrated, realizing he's probably still upset from earlier and decided to stay in his cell tonight.

You cross the street and practically levitate down the basement stairs, but your stomach drops at the sight of the empty cell before you. You leave the basement in a hurry, running straight to the guards at the front gates since everyone else is home asleep.

"You guys see Negan?!" You call out to them.

"He left." The guard answers back.

"Wh- what do you mean he left? When?" You ask, feeling your heart race faster.

They look to each other hesitantly before the other nods his head, looking down to you.

"Right after you did."

He followed after you.. Did he see what happened with you and Daryl? Why isn't he back yet? Your stomach tightens painfully as the negative thoughts fill your head.

"Open the gates." You demand.

"It's not safe out there. You're lucky you made it back alive the first time. Why don't y-"

"Open the damn gates. Now." You say again and they reluctantly listen, opening the gates for you as you begin the journey.. for the second time tonight.

Part four here

tagging a few of my babies: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell

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ambrossart · 2 years

Text

DANCING WITH MYSELF

— PART ONE

summary: eddie crashes senior prom hoping to steal a dance with his dream girl, chrissy cunningham. instead, he spends the night stuck in the women’s restroom with you—her snarky, insecure best friend. ❖ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader ❖ word count: 2,489 ❖ genre: fluff with some angst ❖ series status: complete ❖ warnings: no season 4 spoilers, some coarse language, body image issues, allusions to eating disorders, typical teenage insecurities, angst, jealousy, anxiety, secret crushes, childhood memories, happy ending, lots of 80s music one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten

You were more than a little caught off guard when Chance Gallagher asked you to the senior prom.

Chance was popular, Chance was on the basketball team, and you were just Chrissy Cunningham's snarky best friend. The "bitchy" one—yeah, that was your identifier (so that you wouldn't be confused with her other, much perkier friends). You were confident that ninety percent of the student body had no idea what your actual name was. To them, you were simply Chrissy Cunningham's Bitchy Best Friend. Depressing as that was, it was an enormous step up from constantly being referred to as her "chubby" best friend. All that dieting must have finally paid off.

Needless to say, you were a little skeptical when Chance Gallagher, dressed in his green letterman jacket, showed up at your locker six weeks before the big night.

He swung by and said, "Hey, you..."

In hindsight, that should have been your first clue that this was going to end in disaster. Hey, you? Come on, the boy clearly didn't know your name. But at the time, you weren't thinking about that. No, you were too busy admiring his long dark hair, those deep-set brown eyes, and that shy, crooked smile that slowly crept up the side of his face...

"Hi," you said back, and you thought your voice sounded oddly high-pitched for some reason, like Minnie Mouse. You had to clear your throat and try again. "Hey, uhh, what's up?"

"Nothin' much." Chance paused and ran his hand through his hair. Shamelessly, you watched him do it, and you caught yourself wondering if his hair was as soft as it looked. It probably was.

"I was just thinking," he went on, "you know, about prom coming up..."

You retreated into sarcasm. "Oh, is prom coming up?"

"Uh... yes?" Chance cocked his head, looking so confused.

You winced. "Sorry, just ignore me. So, what about prom?"

"Well, I was wondering if anyone asked you yet."

You squinted at him for a second, thinking, Seriously? "Uhh, no, no one's asked me yet."

"Good," said Chance, nodding and smiling, and you stood there, thinking, Wow, those are some white teeth.

Then, while you were distracted by those white teeth, he snuck in a quick: "So you wanna go, then?"

You blinked slowly. Once. Twice. "I'm sorry... what?"

"I'm asking if—"

"You're asking me to prom?"

"Well, I'm trying to, but you're making it kinda difficult."

"Well, I'm a difficult person," you said under your breath. Then: "Wait a minute, is this like a Taming of the Shrew scenario? Is there a Bianca somewhere in this?"

Chance's brow furrowed. "Taming of the what?"

"The shrew."

"What's a shrew?"

"Well, it's actually a small, mouse-like animal, but it's also the word for an ill-tempered woman, which is the definition I'm referring to—not the mouse, obviously; although I could see the mouse making sense too, you know, within a different context... Anyway, The Taming of the Shrew is a Shakespearean comedy. We read it in English last week. We took turns playing the parts... well, not me, I mostly just read the stage directions. See, I've got a thing about public speaking and, you know, speaking in general..."

"Really? 'Cause you seem pretty good at it." Chance was smiling at you.

And now you were smiling back... and laughing, too. It was a colorful laugh that burst out of your chest like confetti out of a New Year's Eve popper.

"That was a good joke," you said. "I liked that."

Silence. Heavy and awkward.

Chance broke it. "So... is that a yes to prom? Or do I need to leave, come back, and start this process all over again?"

You laughed again, but this one made your chest hurt a little.

Your gut reaction was to say, Yes, absolutely! but you never listened to your gut. You listened to the small voice in your head, the one currently showing you all the possible worst-case scenarios on a teeny tiny projector: frame after frame after frame. This is a bad idea. This is a terrible idea. You should just say no right now and save yourself the embarrassment.

But then you heard Chrissy's voice in your head, that sweet Disney princess voice. You know you're the only one getting in your way, right? Stop sabotaging yourself. You would be so much happier if you would stop shutting everyone out. Just open up a little, let people in, and I promise they'll think you're amazing, just like I do... and then I'm gonna have to tell them all to back off because you're my best friend. I found you first.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay, look, at the risk of making this all blow up in my face, can just I ask why? Why do you wanna go to prom with me, Chance? I mean, sure, we sit at the same lunch table, and yeah, you're friends with Jason and I'm friends with Chrissy, but we've never spoken a word to each other... so why?"

Chance shrugged. "Because I want to? Because I think we'd have a good time? Do I need another reason?"

You bit down on your lip. That wasn't the answer you were hoping for, but then again, maybe that was just your anxiety talking. You shook all those ugly thoughts away and said, "Okay."

Chance took a step back, seeming delightfully surprised. "Okay?"

"Okay... yes, I'll go to prom with you." And you felt a little like Sissy Spacek in the movie Carrie.

Was this your Tommy Ross?

Oh, hopefully he doesn't die...

Chance pumped his fist. "Well, all right!" And for a second, you thought he was going to give you a high five or a slap on the back. Instead, he backed away slowly, heading toward his own locker. "This will be great. Yeah, I'm really looking forward to this."

"Me too," you said.

And that was the problem. You started looking forward to it. You started getting excited about it. Daydreaming about it. Flipping through magazines and dog-earing your favorite pages, because suddenly you had favorite pages. And that's why you were absolutely gutted when Chance called you up six hours before prom and said he couldn't make it.

With just five words, all your prom plans went up in flames.

"Food poisoning? Are you kidding me right now?" You were sitting on your bed with the phone pressed against your ear. It almost slipped out of your grasp when you first heard the news. "Can't you, like, take some Pepto-Bismol or something?"

"Seriously?"

"No, not seriously, Chance. I'm not a monster." You let out an angry huff and switched the phone to your opposite ear. "What am I supposed to do now? I bought tickets and a dress and some really, really painful heels." You had even practiced walking in those painful heels so that you wouldn't look stupid—or worse, trip and fall on your face in front of everyone. "There's gonna be pictures and dinner and a frickin' limo... Oh my god, I'm gonna be the only one there without a date!"

"I know... I'm so sorry."

"Well, great, can I bring your 'sorry' with me to prom? Can I pose next to it during pictures?" You swallowed hard, feeling the sharp sting of oncoming tears. You lowered the phone to your shoulder (while Chance continued to utter apology after apology) and squeezed your eyes shut before a single one could escape.

After a minute, you heard Chance say, "You still there?"

You brought the phone back to your ear. "Yeah," you said, and wiped your runny nose on your wrist. "Look, don't worry about me, okay? I'll, uhh, I'll figure something out."

"Yeah, okay... And, hey, I'm really, really sorry."

"Yeah, I know," you said, numbing yourself to it. "Anyway, I'm gonna go. Uhh, feel better, okay?"

You slammed the phone down before he could say goodbye. Then you saw the stack of magazines on your nightstand. And the pink shoebox on the floor. You buried your face in your hands and had yourself a good five-minute cry before picking the phone back up and frantically dialing Chrissy's number.

She answered in a chirpy voice: "Hello, hello... Cunningham residence."

"He's not coming!" you blurted out in a stuffy, near-to-tears voice.

"What? What do you mean, he's not coming?"

"Food poisoning! He got food poisoning!"

"He got food poisoning? Oh, no..."

"Yeah. That's just my luck, right? I just spent three hundred dollars for nothing."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, obviously I can't go now..."

"What? But you have to go!"

"Chris, I can't—"

"No, Y/N, you have to go! This is the senior prom. This is supposed to be our special night."

You rolled your eyes. "Pretty sure Jason thinks it's his special night."

"Well, he's wrong," Chrissy said, and stifled a laugh. "Come on, you didn't go to junior prom, and that was fine, but this is the senior prom, our last prom, and I wanna spend it with my best friend. I want us to go get our hair and makeup done, and put on these outrageous, obnoxious dresses, and go make asses of ourselves on that dance floor. That way, when I'm old and wrinkly, I can look back on this moment and think, Wow... I so peaked in high school."

You both laughed. Despite the tears, you laughed.

"Yeah," you said, "I want that, too... but I don't have a date, Chris."

"So what? You can come with me and Jason."

"Oh, the third wheel. Yeah, I bet your boyfriend would love that."

"He won't mind. And if he does, screw him. We'll leave his ass at home and go to prom together. Deal?"

You smiled and dabbed your eyes dry with your sleeve. "Deal."

Overjoyed, Chrissy squealed so loud you had to pull the phone away from your ear. "Now, hurry up and get your butt over here, pretty lady! Our appointment's in an hour."

"Fine, fine..."

You said your goodbyes and hung up. That's when the dread finally set in, twisting your stomach into one giant pretzel. "Food poisoning, huh? Boy, is he lucky." You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling for what felt like forever.

"I'm calling it now: this is gonna be the worst night of my life."

Three streets down, Gareth Lozinski’s garage was exploding with the thrashing chords of heavy metal.

Corroded Coffin was currently six songs deep into their ten-song set list (a tribute to all their favorite metal bands), which would eventually get whittled down to just five songs. Any more than that and the manager of The Hideout would pull the plug on them. That happened last Tuesday, after Eddie Munson tried to sneak in a second Iron Maiden song when he thought the manager had stepped outside for a smoke break. They were only six bars in when their mics and amps suddenly died. Eddie, lost in the music, played another eight bars before he realized what had happened.

“Boo,” he said into the dead mic; then he strummed an angry riff and walked off the stage.

The band took a short break after Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid” so that Gareth could help his mother carry in the groceries. Mrs. Lozinski made a comment about their playing, said they were “really coming along” because she didn’t know what else to say. Gareth’s little sister was more succinct with her feedback. She skipped past the open garage with a paper bag full of fruit and said, “No, you guys still suck.”

Five minutes later, Gareth returned with half a turkey sandwich, sat down behind his drum set, and played the majority of Motörhead’s “Ace of Spades” with the sandwich hanging out of his mouth. He wolfed the rest down during Eddie’s excessively long guitar solo.

Just when you thought he was done, the guy kept on going…

These rehearsals usually carried on well into the evening. Gareth’s family sat down to dinner at around six-thirty, and they didn’t appreciate the unique ambiance of Eddie Munson’s screaming guitar, so that’s when the band typically called it quits.

Today, however, was no typical day. Today was the senior prom.

Jeff was the first one to unstrap his guitar. “All right, guys, I’m outta here.”

Gareth, a junior who had yet to experience prom, said, “Dude, it’s only three. Prom doesn’t start for another four hours.”

“Yeah, but Tara’s parents wanna take pictures, and my parents wanna take pictures, and then we gotta go to dinner… It’s a whole event.”

Grant heard that and unstrapped as well. “Yeah, shit, I better get going, too.”

Meanwhile, Eddie Munson was staring off into space and silently strumming his guitar, trying to work out some of Motörhead’s trickier chord progressions in his head. He stopped momentarily when he felt Jeff’s hand on his shoulder.

Jeff said, “Hey, good luck tonight, man.”

The corner of Eddie’s mouth raised into a lazy smile. “Thanks, man. See ya.” Then he bent his head and went back to strumming, his left hand fingering the beginning chords of Dio’s “The Last in Line.”

Gareth put down his drumsticks and stood up. “You’re really going through with this, huh?”

“Mhm,” said Eddie, only half listening.

Gareth shook his head, utterly dumbfounded by his friend’s reckless determination. “You’re crazy, man. What makes you think Chrissy Cunningham’s gonna wanna dance with you?”

Eddie’s fingers slowed and eventually stopped, those final chords lingering for a moment… then drifting away.

“Because this is my year, man.” Eddie was confident, but not arrogantly so. He simply believed his words to be true. “I’m telling you, all the stars are aligning for me. As long as I don’t blow Ms. O’Donall’s English final, and I don’t plan on blowing her English final, I’m gonna be out those doors and onto better things. Now all that’s left to do is steal a dance with my dream girl.”

“Yeah… that sounds great and all, man, but this is Chrissy Cunningham we’re talking about. There’s no way she’s gonna dance with someone like you, especially not at prom.”

“Really? I think she will, and especially because it’s prom.”

Because Chrissy Cunningham wasn’t like the other popular girls. She wasn’t vain or pretentious. She didn’t strut around school like a princess amongst peasants. No, Chrissy Cunningham was something special, a very rare diamond in a pit of precious stones.

And tonight, for at least one song, she was going to be his.

Eddie unstrapped his guitar and carried it over to its case. “Gareth my good man… Gareth the Good, Gareth the Great… I think tonight might be the best night of my life.” He smiled on his way out. “Wish me luck, buddy.”

“Good luck,” Gareth said, and watched him go. “Boy, he’s gonna need it.”

______________

CURRENT // NEXT

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #chrissy cunningham #jason carver #chrissy x jason #chrissy x eddie #hellfire club #st4 #ambrossart #just me using fanfiction as therapy for all my high school trauma #dancing with myself #dwm #fanfiction

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softlyspector · 1 year

Note

20) Because I don’t trust anyone else to take care of you like I can. From the bed sharing prompts is SCREAMINGGG Marc Spector

I changed this one up just a bit! 20. I don't trust anyone else to take care of me like you + Marc Spector

warnings: blood, injuries, a tiny bit of smut

The knock comes sometime in the early morning.

You squint at your phone, the time taunting you, reminding you that you've only been asleep for a few hours.

Everything in you protests, your body begging you to ignore the knock and go back to sleep. Whatever crisis the fucking neighbor might be having can wait until morning. You jerk the duvet over your head, and settle back down into the warmth.

You've almost fallen back asleep, the dregs of your slumber pulling you under, when the knock comes again, more frantic and insistent this time. A rapping that demands to be acknowledged, that turns to a pounding the longer you lie there, confused.

You groan and blearily sit up, blindly groping for your robe, when your sleep addled brain catches up to reality.

You freeze, one arm through a sleeve of the robe, because the tapping is coming from the window, not the door. An insistent tap tap tap. The hollow, glassy echo of the window draws horror into your bones, roots down in your mind.

The windows are locked though, and you can't imagine that a thief or intruder that would knock or make so much noise.

You slip the robe on fully over your sleep shirt and stand, tying the sash closed as you approach the window, the floor icy against your bare toes.

You keep your phone in hand in case you need to call for help, your finger hovering over the only number you know to call if you were in trouble.

But when you push the curtains back, you're met with the blank white stare of Moon Knight.

"Open the window." Marc demands, muffled through the glass. But even so, you can still hear the strain in his voice, how gruff he sounds.

You flick the latch and lift the window, reaching out an arm for him to steady himself on as he climbs through. With your free hand you shut the window firmly behind him and throw the lock back in place. Still, the cold air that drifted in is enough to make you shiver, goosebumps climbing over your skin.

"I did give you keys for a reason, Marc," you say, releasing his arm to cross yours over your chest.

He sways where he stands, the mask still over his face, the cold white burn of his stare boring into you. His gaze flicks over you, one hand curling around your wrist to slide up your arm and then down your back when he tugs you close to him.

You realize, as he does it again, this time with the other hand, that he's checking you over for injuries. You suppose it's supposed to be subtle, but Marc is like an open book to you, no matter how he tried to hide himself.

"I didn't wanna scare you," he says, his voice holding an odd note, "By just letting myself in."

You curl into him, digging your fingers into his back, resting your chin on his shoulder, hoping the pressure of your fingers soothes him. "That's what it's for though. It's to let yourself in. You're always welcome here, Marc. No matter what."

He's warm against you, and heavy, as he leans into you, exhaustion lining his frame, dragging him down. The heat that radiates out of the ceremonial armor doesn't seem human, like his internal temperature is hot enough to burn. His hands are shaking a little, as his palms smooth up and down your spine.

"I'm okay," you say gently when he doesn't respond, fingers digging into your hips, over the curve of your thighs. "I'm safe."

He nods, the closeness and your words seem to reassure him. You pass a hand up his spine before fisting it in the cloak. The fabric is warm too, like a blanket straight from the dryer. "What happened?" You ask as carefully as you can.

Marc shakes his head. "Nothin'. Don't worry about it."

You pull back, Marc's arms resisting the movement, trying to keep you in place against him. "Can I see you?"

He hesitates, and then let's the suit slip away. You gasp when it does, bruises and cuts and blood littering him.

"Marc!" Your voice pitches upwards in fear. "Why didn't you say something - I thought this stupid suit was supposed to heal you!"

He sways, and you catch at his elbows when he slumps into the armchair by the window, guiding him down carefully. "Usually," his voice is exhausted. "It usually does. Khonshu is pissed about something though."

You don't ask what, just stoop to untie his boots and yank them off his feet. "Stay here, I'm getting the first aid kit."

"Okay," he agrees, but you've barely made it to your kitchen when you realize he's followed you on silent feet.

Something must have spooked him tonight, if he felt he couldn't let you out of his sight for even a moment.

You sigh and gesture him to the table. But he only moves when you do, crowding you just a bit. You bite down the panic it induces and focus on his injuries instead, the blood weeping from his wounds.

"Sit, baby," you coo, hand on his shoulder, attempting to push him gently down. "I'm right here. I'm not the one that's hurt."

He huffs out a breath but does as you say, dutifully letting you clean and bandage him, not making a noise of protest.

"Are you going to stay?" you ask, thumbing over the last bit of gaze you press around his wrist. "You should."

Marc doesn't stay with you. Never. And you've gotten used to that, to waking up alone, to Marc leaving you before your time together is really finished, kissing you goodbye at the door.

So you don't expect him to nod, to press a kiss to your temple as he stands.

Even though he's kind of sweaty and sticky with dried blood and a little bit gross, you let him lie down in your bed after he changes out of the jeans and t-shirt he wears. You'd been planning to wash your bedding that weekend anyways and doing it a few days earlier isn't a huge deal.

He actually stays there when you leave him, but only because you're talking as you go, so he can hear you and know that you're okay.

When you return, it's with a damp cloth and a juice box, a sleeve of oreos.

"Here," you say, holding out the cookies and juice. "You need some sugar, baby, you're still shaking."

He frowns at the juice when you hold it out to him. "Juice box?"

"They're convenient. For on the go," you roll your eyes and gesture at him to take it as you perch next to him on the edge of the bed. "C'mon, be a good sport," you joke, pointedly popping one of the cookies into your mouth.

He takes the juice, but doesn't drink, frowning at the green packaging with a smiling cartoon of an apple on it as you sweep the cloth over his face and hands. You set the cookies aside, glad he'd taken something you offered him.

Marc takes a sip, an odd expression crossing his face before he leans it against his thigh, and settles his hand on your knee instead, tracing the bump of bone.

You finish with the cloth and toss it in the direction of the laundry basket before climbing into bed with him.

He tucks you in close, much closer than he normally holds you, much tighter, and for the first time that night, you allow yourself to wonder about what happened to him, what freaked him out enough to come to you in the middle of the night.

What could have scared him enough to stay in your bed with you, a space he seems to usually consider sacred and himself unworthy of the sanctuary.

He drinks the rest of the juice from the little box, eyes squinting at the logo again before he reaches over to set it on your nightstand. His hands have stopped shaking, and you think the sugar's done him well.

You fold your arms around him and wonder if you should ask, inhaling the unfiltered scent of him, sweat and blood, a hint of the cologne he sometimes wears lingering around his throat and the curls plastered to the back of his neck. There's not a trace of lavender around him now, now that the ceremonial armor is gone.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

He shakes his head, curling his arms tighter around you until you feel like you can't breathe.

Marc swallows, doesn't look at you, and when he speaks his voice grates, scrapes out of him, like he's reluctant to say it but he will anyways. "I don't trust anyone else to-," he pauses for a long moment. "-to take care of me."

Something in your chest cracks open, throbs like an open wound.

"Like you do. I don't trust anyone else to take care of me like you do," he bites out a moment later. "I needed to make sure you were okay. And I knew-,"

He stops again, buries himself against you, and you feel the heat radiating out of his cheeks. "You knew I'd make sure you're okay, too," you guess, pressing your hands through his hair.

There's no answer but that's okay.

Because he's just told you something more than important.

He trusts you. He worries about you. And he's accepted that you worry about him too.

It's the last thing that shocks you the most. It's the thing that makes you press a long kiss to his temple, listening to his breathing even out and slow, arms loosening around you just a bit as he relaxes, not quite asleep.

He lets you kiss him, one hand under his jaw, tasting the apple juice still lingering on his tongue.

The kiss turns hungry quickly, Marc slotting himself over you, his thigh falling between both of yours.

He doesn't have to say anything, falling together with you, the easy way he knows your body, the way he knows you.

You arch into him, the feeling of him against you.

"You're okay," he says, when he slides into you, fingers between yours. "You're safe."

You nod when he closes his eyes and presses his forehead to yours, fingers tightening, his body brutal against yours as he thrusts into you, demanding something that you easily give up.

"I'm okay. You're okay."

He's not gentle with you after that, like he'd fuse you to him, if he tried hard enough.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #moon knight drabble

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a-writer-on-elm-street · 1 year

Note

Hi I really love your fics! I was wondering if I could I request some comfort from Bo based on this image please 💕

(This is @fluffy-little-demon main blog)

pairing: bo x gn!reader

summary: in which you're really struggling and bo comforts you, despite your insistence that you're fine.

a/n: thank you so much, I'm so glad you like my fics! <3 and thank you so much for the request. i hope you like it :)

As you sat on the couch, staring vacantly at the black screen of the TV, you felt like you were drowning, like you were being held underwater with no way to get to the surface. You hadn't had a day as bad as this in months, and now here you were again, barely able to keep going under the weight of everything.

You didn't even know how long you were going to be able to keep this facade up, Bo was bound to notice eventually. Although you hoped that he was just that ignorant that he wouldn't notice your suffering, as terrible as that sounded.

"You know that ain't on right?" A voice suddenly spoke, before you felt the couch dip beside you.

You turned to find Bo slouched beside you now, the remote already held loosley in his hand as he turned the TV on, a beer bottle propped up against his thigh.

When you didn't respond, he turned to look at you, a slight look of concern crossing his features. "You alright?"

"Yeah." You said weakly, turning away from him now as you cast your gaze back on the television. "I'm fine."

"You sure? Cuz you don't look fine."

"I'm fine, okay?" You snapped, your eyes burning with tears now as you tried to turn your face away from him. You really didn't want him to see you like this. It was pathetic. Pitiful.

But as Bo sat there staring at you, he didn't miss the way your shoulders started to shake, your quiet sniffles beginning to fill the silence between you.

"Look, are you sure you're okay? Cuz it don't seem that way." He tried again, not really knowing how else to deal with the situation right now.

"I'm fine." You insisted, but it was clear with the break of your voice that you weren't fine, and Bo knew that too.

He shifted closer to you on the couch then, carefully wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he pulled you into his chest.

"No sweetheart, you're not." He said softly, his hand coming up to stroke your hair as you cried into his chest.

"I'm sorry." You choked out, pressing your face further into him as if you were simply trying to disappear. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Hey, there ain't nothin' wrong with you. You're just havin' a bad day, that's all. And I'm here for you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, so in future, if you feel like this, you come and tell me. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Just...don't be tellin' no one about this, alright? Don't want anyone thinkin' I'm goin' soft."

You chuckled. "Alright."

[Main Masterlist] [Bo Masterlist]

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair hurt/comfort #bo sinclair blurb #bo sinclair oneshot #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair fanfic #bo sinclair fanfiction #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #house of wax fanfic #house of wax fanfiction #bo sinclair house of wax #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher fanfic #slasher fic

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saintsir4n · 5 months

Text

7. FALLING

thank you for the support

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF MENTAL HEALTH

"DON'T tell me you're fallin' in love, it's been what, a couple of weeks?"

"I am, he gets me you know," Carson gushed, speaking quietly to Keelie. "Sounds like bullshit I know, but word to God, I'm serious."

Fortunately, the nail salon wasn't busy so only five other people were being tended to.

Keelie huffed out a laugh, "The dick that good?"

"It's the best," Brian was probably the best she ever had. It was only two days since their date and they couldn't stop, he caught her whenever and wherever.

All the time she spent with him, she noticed a lot. He was quite jumpy, and anxious, especially when it came to his phone. Very cagy about his past and she knew to respect that even though it drove her to overthink.

"White boy got it like that?" Keelie was shocked, she'd never seen her friend act so enamoured about a guy.

In the past, Carson was very naive, and way too trusting, so she hoped that history wasn't repeating itself.

Carson giggled, "He really does. Girl, he talks me through it."

Keelie instantly choked on air, "He what?"

"You heard me."

"He's vocal?" Keelie lowered her tone, making sure the customers couldn't hear much to their disappointment. Carson nodded in response. "Damn."

"Voice husky and everythin', he puts it down, lifts me up, keeps me hooked even if he's just starin', he knows he's got some sort of power over me. Drive's me crazy, I swear.”

“He’s packin’ right? He has to be with that shit eatin’ grin.”

“Respect me, I wouldn’t settle for no little dick,” Carson’s response had them both snickering.

The friends abruptly looked up when the shop bell rang and Brian walked in, eyes immediately landing on Carson.

"Ladies," he nodded at a few of them as he walked by, greeted Keelie before leaning over the counter and pressing a few kisses to Carson's lips making the customers awww in the background. Keelie moved away to help them. "You good baby?" she nodded, noting the irritation in his eyes, but before she could say anything he asked, "You get your nails done?" she nodded again, showing them off to him. He pulled out a 50-dollar bill and put it next to her.

She looked shocked, "You don't have to."

"I want to," Brian insisted, still not smiling.

He's annoyed, she realised.

"You ready to go, your shift is done right?" Brian questioned.

"It's done," she replied, "I'll go get my stuff."

He nodded, watching her go into the back, then sighing when he heard Keelie's voice.

"I'm watchin' you," she warned, walking passed.

He snapped his head, looking in her direction as she picked up a new electric file, "I didn't do nothin'."

"Tell that to my third eye," Keelie took note of his annoyance, wondering why he was so worked up.

Brain didn't respond.

Carson came back, with her bag in hand and immediately saw how riled he was.

"Yo, Keke what did you say to him?" she asked, coming up to Brian who put his arm around her.

"Nothin', I only said hi. Didn't I Eminem?" Keelie taunted, sitting down in front of a regular.

"Yeah, Lil' Kim's right," Brian jabbed, making the whole store laugh.

Even Carson smiled, sticking her tongue out at Keelie who flipped him off.

Brian whispered something as they walked out and onto the street, "Come on, I gotta show you somethin' before we meet the team."

"What is it?" she wondered.

His ringtone disrupted his response. He pulled out his phone, keeping it close to his chest and ignored the ring.

She squinted at him, "Brian?"

His phone started to ring again, just as they reached his truck.

"Is that your mom or somethin'?" she pressed.

"What? No, it's just..." he trailed off, annoyed by the constant ringing and switched off his phone, but that only irritated Carson more.

She shrugged off his arm, "Do you have some secret life you're not tellin' me about Brian?" she was frustrated and he hated that he was making her feel that way. "Do you have a wife, kids, some white picket fence?"

He tried taking her hand but she didn't let him, "Baby, calm down, it's nothin'."

"Then why do you look tense?"

"Because you questionin' me alright? Nothing's wrong, I'm good, you good?" he didn't mean to snap at her. He'd never done it before.

Carson took a step back, looking him up and down. Why's he acting like this? her annoyed gaze settled on something she hadn't noticed before.

"Yo, what happened to your hand?"

It was red and slightly blotchy.

Brain flexed his fist and shook his head, "It's nothin'."

"Was it Vince, did you get in the ring with him again or somethin'?" she was met with silence, "Just answer the question."

"I just did," he breathed out. "Trust me, I'm tense 'cause everythin' is on top of me at the moment. I have bad days and good days like everyone else"

She had to ask, "And your phone?"

"It's Harry," he rushed out, "I left my shift early to come and see you, to spend to with you."

"Okay," she didn't have anything else to say.

He groaned, "Don't be like that, lemme show you want I got you."

Carson just nodded, watching him unlock the truck and pull open the passenger seat, retrieving the present he got for her.

She gasped when she saw the jewel-encrusted sunshine ornament. She remembered telling him about it on their date but she didn't think he was listening.

"Y-you... how?"

"I kept an eye out," he carefully placed it in her hands. "Just wanted to make you happy."

It cost nothing, but it meant everything.

She clutched it tightly, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt.

"Thank you, baby."

And it was like everything was forgotten.

So Brian smiled and embraced her tightly, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Let's get outta here."

The next day Carson squealed when she saw her car, more importantly, the engine that looked like it cost 15k. Jesse even claimed to have tweaked a few things, things she didn't notice before. She couldn't believe it. Her flashy rims, the turbine, and the compressor were fixed and the stereo was finally working again too.

"Like it?" Jesse asked with a proud smirk.

"Like it? you did this before street wars and whilst you were fixing the Supra?" she gawked, eyes blinking rapidly at the shiny parts.

He sheepishly shrugged, "Had to do it for you. The rims were the easiest to do. The engine took some time but it was nothin'. Speakers are all set. Check them out, you'll love it, drivin' down sunset blarin' them to the car Gods."

She laid a fat kiss on his cheek and hugged him.

"I love you, you know that? The biggest, bestest and brightest," she listed, beaming at the car.

"I love you too, now lemme get back to the Supra. Go paint your Charger, I know the designs will be sick."

Jesse left her to her own devices. Carson put down the hood, then reached into her pocket to add the last addition.

She slid into the front seat, slid off the plastic and placed the sunshine ornament on the dashboard, it stuck very easily.

"I hope you love it, Dad," she whispered, wishing he was here.

After a moment she jumped out, blew a kiss at the car and walked around the garage, finding the paint she was going to use for the designs, then pulled out her sketchbook and some overalls to protect her fit. She got lost in her own world when she started, everything was going to plan.

She felt so blessed.

So what could go wrong?

She heard some of the guys talking from the distance but she didn't pay much attention.

She barely flinched when she felt someone kneel behind her and wrap an arm around her shoulder pausing her painting.

"Hey blondie," she greeted him as he kissed her cheek.

"Looking good," Brian nodded to the design. Every time he saw her work, whether it was in her sketchbook or some other street racer's car, it made him wonder why she never did this professionally, just like Jesse. Art school or engineering.

She leaned into his hold, "Thank you."

They talked for a while, she asked if his hand was okay, but was told that it was nothing to worry about. He kept saying she would win any race she would enter and couldn't wait to see it happen, all while taking some pictures of them.

He had pictures of the pair of them all over his phone.

Pulling her from the ground, he cupped her face and pressed his lips to hers. The feeling coursing through their veins wasn't foreign anymore. They embraced it like a warm hug. It was light yet intense.

When she went to move away he squeezed her sides.

Carson's laughter caught Dom's attention and he stood by the entrance, but neither of them saw him yet.

"Check it," Brian tried taking the paintbrush from her but she ended up getting some of the excess paint on his shirt.

"That's what you get," she mused.

"Oh, that's what I get?" He wiped the rest of the paint on her overalls, earning a fierce glare.

Finally seeing a displeased Dom standing off to the side, Brian shifted back slightly.

"Need a cigarette," he murmured.

Carson's brows furrowed, "Didn't you say you quit?" damn he must be stressed.

"I have to make a parts run 'round Simi Valley for Harry," Brian dismissed her question, looking directly at Dom.

"Drive safe," The Torretto man said with indifference.

"Bye, Sonny," Brian breezed passed Dom, after kissing her goodbye.

Carson stood there awkwardly, Dom continued to stare at her, and she didn't understand why.

"I had a guy on the phone, said you hadn't finished his design yet," he expressed, breaking the silence.

"I'm on it."

"Are you, 'cause you seem distracted?" There was a lot of judgment in his tone.

She scoffed, "Get off my back. If I say I'll finish the design I'll finish the design," she put down the paintbrush and frowned, "Brian's not a distraction. I thought you liked him."

"Me likin' him got nothin' to do with anythin'. Just focus," he always said the same thing to both her and Mia. His sister for school and Carson for her occupation. He knew that his godsister was falling in love with the guy, they all did, it so was obvious. "You wanna win big at race wars right? Make sure you keep your head straight."

She huffed, "First Vince, then Brian, now you, must be somethin' in the water right? Why are you all in my grill? Just mind your business."

"You're my business. Always have been, always will!" he yelled, causing her to walk out of the garage in a huff, "And don't you forget that!"

Later that day, Carson stood proud, grinning at the finished product of her car, trying to forget all the stress and worries she felt. She was happy. I'm happy, she kept telling herself. The team congratulated her for creating such a beauty before leaving to go and see Dom and Brian drive off in the completed Supra.

She tried not to overthink. Everything was going to plan, right? But the feeling in her stomach was growing.

Carson wanted to ignore it but her dad always told her to listen to her gut.

The sun was fading and she knew it was time to get back to her shared apartment. Letty had dipped, Mia was studying, Vince and Leon were inside whilst Jesse with stuck in his head working on the computer.

In the corner of her eye, Carson caught the orange Supra pulling up the garage.

Brian and Dom were talking intently about something, she couldn't get a good read on either of them, with their shades being on but she was too tired to even try.

"Yo Summer, where's everyone?" Dom asked, noticing her furrowed brows. The garage was scarce and Jesse didn't look up at the sound of his voice.

Brian smiled as he walked over to her since she didn't look too happy and he instantly felt a sense of dread.

"Inside," was all she had to say, "I'm bouncin'," she went to move but Brian caught her keyless hand, "Yeah?" Dom left the pair alone and eventually, Jesse joined him, finally snapping out of his trance and wanting to badger him about the sweet ride. "I gotta go, Brian."

"Why don't I come with you?" He suggested, with a smirk playin' at his lips.

"Won't your Sylvanian family be blowin' up your cell?" He laughed but she was serious as hell. "I've got work in the mornin' you know?"

"I won't keep you up and my phone will stay on silent. I promise," he came closer, pulling off his shades and staring into her eyes. The sun's falling rays struck her iris' had it stirred something inside of him. "I just wanna hold you, Sonny," he whispered as she scrunched her nose, making him cup her chin and peck her lips a few times. "We'll get some beauty sleep together. Okay?"

His words were making her trip and fall over any gut feeling.

So she agreed, "Okay. But we're just gonna sleep," she warned him as he pulled open the driver seat, letting her get in before jogging over to the passenger side. He gently shut the door, eyes lighting up at the ornament on the dashboard. "Only sleepin'."

Brian nodded, watching her start the engine, "A good night's rest and my beautiful girl to hold onto, not a bad way to live," he said softly, earning the cheesiest smile from her, "That's all I want."

"And that's what you've got."

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

a/n:

https://pin.it/1s5Uvmk (how i imagine her car to look, obviously with huge bratz doll silhouettes across the sides) it's funny because her street name at this point is "barbie" but that won't stop her from doing what she wants. and what's cute is brian's street name is "bullit" so we've got bullit and barbie.

https://pin.it/1c7m5sX (how i imagine the sunshine ornament to be but without the moon). in the behind the scenes videos of this film, the director wanted no rearview mirrors in the car, because he wanted it to be as accurate to the street racing culture of the time, so carson doesn't have one. so just imagine the gift sticking to the dashboard.

some more angst in this chapter between brian and carson. the way he caught an attitude with our girl was disrespectful but of course, all it took was a gift to calm her down. it's sad i know but it's all part of the build-up. carson loves love and even though she knows something is up she'll tell herself to be delusional for a little longer and let him "hold her".

i've been getting a few messages about how often i update but it states multiple times that i publish every sunday (even check the first few chapters pls!)

also with the mature scenes that i write, pls prevent yourself from saying "robbed" or "call 911". what i write should be enough and it gets annoying when i see things like that. as stated in my bio, don't comment on any of my stories if you're a minor!

#wattpad #fanfic #black reader #fastandfurious #fast and the furious #brian o’conner x carson baker #carsonbaker #brian and sonny #sonnybaker #brianoconnerfanfic #brian o’conner x black!reader #brian o'conner #y2k #2001 #black racer #stereo love

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naturesfirstgreenisgold · 1 year

Text

Top Gun incorrect quote

Maverick : Well, aren’t you all a rag-tag group of adventurers with unclear goals and good hearts! Oh, let me guess: you’re out to save the world!

Iceman : Well, actually, that sounds like a pretty fair assessment.

Rooster : More or less, I guess...

Cyclone : That sounds awesome! Let’s do that!

Hangman : I’m new here, but I am open to the concept.

Hondo: I thought that’s what we were doing, guys, come on!

Maverick : Would you guys be there for me if I was going through something?

Iceman : Nope, absolutely not.

Rooster : I hope it sucks, whatever you're going through.

Cyclone : I hope it emotionally scars you for the rest of your life.

Hangman : I hope you reach out to me so I can ignore you.

Hondo: I can't wait to go to your funeral, knowing I could've changed that outcome.

Maverick : Everytime I hear someone talking about updog, I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help them complete their joke.

Iceman : Okay, but what is updog?

Slider: Updog is a long sausage in a bun, often served with ketchup, mustard, onions, and/or relish.

Goose: Not, that’s a hot dog. An updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released.

Hollywood : No, that's an update. You’re thinking of the fourth largest city in Sweden.

Wolfman: Surely, that’s Uppsala, where’s updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter.

Maverick : That’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs.

Goose: You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current.

Slider: No, that’s an updraft. An updog is the modern version of a henway.

Iceman : What’s a henway??

Maverick : Oh, about five pounds.

*The squad is over at Maverick 's house*

Iceman : Ohhhh, we each get our own oven?

Maverick : ... N-No...

Maverick , laughing: How many ovens do you think I have???

Iceman , motioning to their kitchen: Three, I thought!

Slider: I see a-

Maverick , motioning to one device: This is a microwave.

Iceman : Oh, well I-

Maverick : Hey wait wait, actually- hang on- *fiddles with the buttons on the microwave*

Maverick , amazed: Its got a bake setting!

Goose: Ohoho, you learn something new every day!

Hollywood : Do we- Do we roshambo for who gets to pick first?

Maverick : Now I've just discovered I have more ovens than I thought, we don't have to roshambo nothin!

Maverick : I am someone who owns four ovens...

Maverick , louder and way too happy: I am someone... who owns FOUR OVENS...

Maverick : I didn't know I was so rich with ovens...

Wolfman, pointing to another appliance: Also the toaster oven!

Maverick :

Iceman : Ohhh, toasty boy! Four- Five ovens!

Maverick :

Maverick , fucking ECSTATIC: I AM SOMEONE WHO OWNS FIVE OVENS

'Can I copy the homework?'

Maverick : I can help you with it!

Iceman : Yeah, sure.

Slider: Bold of you to assume I did the homework.

Goose: lol nope.

Hollywood : Wait, we had homework?!?!?!

Wolfman: *Read 5:55pm*

#top gun fandom #icemav #bradley rooster bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #top gun #top gun maverick #sereshaw #top gun incorrect quotes #pete maverick mitchell #leonard wolfman wolfe #ron slider kerner #rick hollywood neven #hollywolf

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dabisbratz · 5 months

Note

AGH okay hii there (・・; idk if u remember me, but i was the anon from a while back who asked how you got into impact play and was! really nervous cuz i didn't know if it was my thing, but i wanted to broaden my horizons yk? your reply helped me feel a bit better (thank u btw<3) , but since then i've sorta realized that it's DEF not my thing and i wanted to ask,, do you ever feel bad about not wantin' the rough stuff, if that ever happens? like, do you ever fear that it'd make ur partner/playmate like you any less?

i guess i'm askin' cuz i've been having that problem, and idk what to do about all the pressure to like pain and degradation n stuff :( nd i really look up to you as well!

i know this is a MUCH bigger question than last time, and professional or not, i wouldn't expect ya to give me advice for this kinda thing, so again, i'm hopin' i'm not crossing any boundaries,,, so so sorry if i am, and obvs ignore this msg if that's the case! or maybe i can try sending it off anon later, so u can answer it privately, if that'd make u more comfy? either way, i rlly hope ur havin' a wonderful week, and i'm glad to see that your writing is getting more attention :)

hi bubs !! absolutely do remember you, how could i forget ?! :D v’never been physically sexual with anyone before, but can tell you v’absolutely felt less-than when someone else’s ideas weren’t somethin i was into. t’the point id jus go with it even f’i wasn’t a fan. . which is !! a big nono!! that being said, f’youre with someone who makes ythink you have to fulfill every fantasy they have— darker or not— they’re not the one. n that makes them a terrible, terrible person !! it’s neverever your fault, n it doesn’t n shouldn’t effect how much they love/care about you! you like what you like, n that’s great !! don’t let someone pressure you into doin somethin you don’t wanna do.

n that leads m’to mnext point ! there’s nothin wrong with not bein into pain or degradation or anythin . . . jus intense. cause they’re exactly that, yknow? like . . m’actually not into intense impact play !! i like gettin slapped/spanked but mnot a fan of kickin or punchin or stuff like that.. n the funny thing is, m’only into it if the person doin it is super soft n sweet right after ! anythin you do (with a partner or not!) does not have tbe somethin intense n crazy n rough tbe a good time. what matters s’if you feel good— if they feel good too! n being rough most definitely is not the only way to feel good !!

anywho, yshould definitely talk it through with your partner!! communication is everythin. it’s important t’have boundaries set n placed— respected too. any type of. . play time ! should be guilt free, n it’s much better when everyone’s on the same page!! sorry f’it sounds like mramblin. . there’s so much i wanna say but it’s kinda hard tput into words. . tldr: i do! but we shouldn’t, so it’s important to talk about it t’diminish that feelin of guilt/inferiority !! no need to apologize, sweetpea!! mglad i could help, even if it’s jus a lil bit! <333 n thank you !!!

#𐂯 ! ⊹ 𝓉𝑜𝓎𝒷𝑜𝓍 — ᵎᵎ ₊˚

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strangefable · 1 year

Text

Fic number two for the Far Cry 5 Anniversary Exchange, hosted by @detectivelokis, written for @sinnerburrito. This time for Nick Rye.

Title: Pregame to Proposal Rating: Gen/light Teen Word Count: 822 2 of 3

Nick fiddled with the label of his beer bottle and shifted nervously on his stool. The Spread Eagle was full of the usual crowd, just like any other night in Fall's End.

But this wasn't just any night. Not for Nick. He glanced around. At least none of the Seeds were here; he was grateful for that.

"You seem nervous," Joey's voice was light, teasing. She smiled at him from the stool next to him. He suspected the smile was a bit smug, but he chose to ignore it.

"Yeah, man. Careful, or you'll fall off that thing." Danny leaned around his partner to grin at him.

Nick rolled his eyes at the both of them. "Look, you'd be nervous too, don't start on me now."

Mary May appeared behind the bar in front of them. She set down a tray and frowned slightly at the three of them. "What's the matter?"

Danny smiled at her. "Oh, nothing, just teasing Nicky boy, you know how it is."

Joey chimed in. "Yeah, got one hell of a shiny rock burning a hole in his pocket today." Nick decided she was definitely smug.

Mary May lifted an eyebrow and turned back to Nick. "That so? Already?" Her tone sounded skeptical.

Nick frowned at her. He straightened his back and folded his arms across his chest. "Hey! When you know, you know!"

She chuckled and set another beer down in front of him. "I didn't say it was a bad thing, Rye. Just didn't expect you to go so quietly."

He gawked at her as the others joined her in laughing. "Hey, now, you're not questioning my--"

Mary May held up a hand and shook her head, cutting him off quickly. "Not at all, Nick. We've just never seen you this smitten before."

Nick grumbled and ducked his head, hiding behind the brim of his cap. "Ain't like that. Kim's just…"

Joey dropped her hand on his shoulder. "It's good, Nick. We're just happy for you."

"Yeah, assuming she's crazy enough to say yes!" Danny chimed in again, waving his beer bottle in the air with a grin and a wink.

Nick winced slightly and let out a groan. "Well, I sure hope she will. You'll never let me hear the end of it if she don't." He tugged on his cap, then fidgeted with his sunglasses, tucked into the front collar of his t-shirt.

His friends all laughed as Joey patted him on the back. "You've got nothing to worry about. That woman is crazy about you." She put on an exaggerated pout. "Even denied my attempt to flirt with her." She shook her head sadly.

Danny groaned loudly, shaking his head. "Oh, please, Jo, you didn't use even a quarter of your usual charm."

Nick shot them both unamused looks. "Hey now…"

"Give him another beer, Mary May. And put it on my tab." Joey nudged Nick's ribs. "You know as well as I do I couldn't bark up that tree even if I wanted to."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But tonight is… And well, I'm…" he waved his hands at the air. "Well. It's a big deal, you know?"

She nodded. "You're gonna do great. Sweep her right off her feet. She'll love the ring. Lord knows she loves you. Don't let us get in your head." She leaned over and shoved his shoulder with hers.

"Pull it together, Rye, here she comes." Mary May whispered, her eyes directed toward the door behind Nick.

Nick coughed, scrambling on his stool, patting his pocket and trying to collect himself.

Kim's hand came to rest on his ball cap before he could finish turning around. "Hey there." She leaned around him and kissed him firmly on the lips. She stepped back with a smile.

He stared at her, his face breaking into a grin. "Yeah…" He shifted around and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Hi."

She brought her hands to rest on his shoulders. "So what's up, sugar bear?" She winked as she watched his ears turn pink.

"Nothin'! Let's uh… let's grab a couple an' go outside. It's a nice night. Maybe look at the stars, you know?" He hoped to God his voice didn't squeak or crack too much.

She pursed her lips and gave him a suspicious glance. "Well, all right." She leaned to the side to look behind him. "That okay, Mary May?"

The bartender let out a laugh and handed two fresh bottles across the bar to Kim. "Go on, then."

Kim turned and Nick followed, his hand still on her waist.

"Get her, Nicky!" Danny heckled.

"Have fun, you two." Joey's voice rang with mirth and barely contained laughter.

Nick shot his friends a quick glare over his shoulder before the door swung shut behind him and Kim.

Tonight was The Night, and he didn't want anything to ruin the surprise.

#fc5exchange23 #fc5 #nick rye #strangefable writes

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dreamlessinparis · 2 years

Text

Matters of the Heart

Pairing: Dark!Scott Huffman x F!Reader

Word Count: 3803

Summary: Scott has lost alot in his life and he will stop at nothing to get a second chance. So when his cousin Bucky calls with a way to do just that, he can’t help but jump at the opportunity.

Warning: explicit sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, bondage, kidnapping, implications of murder/killers, implied trafficking, blackmail, dubcon, manipulation, chloroform, taunting, mean Scott, 18+, nicknames (Puppet), taunting, praise, degradation, breeding kink, rough sex, oral sex, choking

A/N: Welcome to the first part of Scott’s story in my Serial Killer AU, if you’d like to read the other stories, please click here. Thank you to @navybrat817 for helping me form the idea for Scott's storyline and for letting me scream at her about it and to @sparkledfirecracker for reading it over for me. Love you both❤️ All mistakes are my own.

if you’re a minor, please DNI!

Please do not repost, publish or translate my work. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading :)

Thank you to the lovely @firefly-graphics for the dividers.

“Lee, I told you not to call me at work,” Scott huffed into the phone, trying to keep his voice down. His assistant was super nosy and Scott tried to keep his connection to the Sheriff and his cousin Bucky on the down-low.

“I know Scott,” Lee replied in a haughty tone, “But I believe you said and I quote ‘if you ever find someone that looks like her to call you right away.”

This caught Scott’s attention and he sat up straighter at this news. He never thought this day would come. He stood up from his chair, and nonchalantly walked over to the door, shutting it firmly.

“What did you say?” Scott breathed into the phone.

“Y’heard me,” Lee bit out and Scott let out a shaky breath.

“Send me pictures,” Scott managed to get out before he hung up, collapsing down on the sofa. He rubbed absently at the spot where his wedding band had been until recently.

He had given up hope and figured it was time to remove it. His phone chimed and Scott fumbled clumsily to swipe open the screen.

His breath caught as he pulled up the first photo. You looked just like her. Sure you weren’t in the best conditions, your face covered in dirt, clothes ratter and matted but the resemblance was uncanny.

Scott’s thumbs raced over the screen after he got to the last photo, typing up a message to Lee. ‘I want her. Can I meet her?’

Lee responded immediately with a thumb’s up and time, along with coordinates. Scott slumped back in his seat for a moment before getting up to continue his work.

Lee exited the vehicle, a swagger in his usual step. He strutted over, thumbs hooked in his belt.

Scott stood in the wooded area, hidden by the tall oak trees. The beams of headlights broke through the darkness and he watched the cruiser pull up. Excitement rushed through him. He had to force himself not to rush to the car, instead, waiting in the darkness for Lee to park the car.

"Evenin' Huffman," Lee drawled, straightening up as he came to a stop, "Special delivery for you in the back there." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder.

Scott nodded, ready to take you and head home. Finally get his second chance, another chance to make things right. "Thank you. Hand her over and I'll be on my way."

"Sounds good, boss. But first I need a favor," Lee said, chewing on the toothpick hanging out of his mouth.

"Again?" Scott snarled, "What the fuck do you do this time?"

Lee held his hands up in mock defense, shaking his head. Scott didn't like Lee but unfortunately for him, Lee knew things that he shouldn't. Scott couldn't risk that information getting out, and Lee knew how to push his buttons just enough. Over the years Scott had ended up helping out in ways that he would have never considered before.

"Nothin'! I never do anything boss, I just always end up in the wrong place at the wrong time," Scott snorted at Lee's explanation but the cop chose to ignore it and continue, "I need you to talk to one of those judges of yours, get me a marriage license. I'm getting married but I can't have it in a public place. Bride's a bit jittery, y'know?"

“Jittery? Is that what you’re calling kidnapped nowadays?” Scott asked, “Fine I’ll get you one by Monday, will that work?”

Lee clapped a hand on Scott’s back, giving a hearty guffaw, “Monday’s perfect! Now let’s get you your girl.”

The two men made their way to the cruiser; you sat quietly in the back seat, staring forward. Scott couldn’t believe how much you looked like her, his late wife. From the color of your hair, all the way down to how you held yourself. So elegant and demure. Scott couldn’t help himself as he grabbed the door handle and opened it, leaning down to be eye level with you.

You turned slowly to look at him; his eyes were bright and full of hope. Huh? What did he have to hope for in you? You were nothing but a runaway that fell into a bad situation.

He reached his hand out to you and you couldn’t do anything but stare at it. What did he expect of you? Were you supposed to grab it and follow him out of this car? Where would that lead you? The hesitation made him slowly pull his hand back. Without thinking, you reached out quickly, grabbing it before he pulled too far back. It startled him, your sudden movement but a small smile played on his lips and it created a warm feeling in your stomach.

He helped you out of the car, wrapping his arm around your waist as you stumbled for a moment. The stoic sheriff who had brought you carried the duffel bag that they had packed for you. Once you were seated in the passenger seat, you waited patiently with your hands in your lap for the man to round the car. He exchanged a few words with the gruff man before he got in the car.

“I’m Scott,” were his first words to you. You softly said your name, still looking down at your hands. He reached out, grabbing your hand.

He let you roam the house, following closely behind you. It made you nervous to have his eyes on you. The way he looked at you, made you uneasy as if he was blind and seeing for the first time.

You walked over to the beautiful stone fireplace, taking your time with each photo. The Scott in these photos was so lively, unlike the sunken man he was now. The woman next to him seemed almost familiar but it wasn't until you got to the last photo of Scott with his arms wrapped around the women's pregnant belly did you see the resemblance. She looked almost identical to you.

"What the fuck?" You muttered under your breath. You felt Scott's presence, close in behind you, his breath brushing against the nape of your neck.

"Isn't she beautiful? My Lucy. She was my late wife," he explained sadly. There was almost an edge of guilt to his tone but maybe you were just imagining it.

“Is this why you had me taken?"

"I didn't have you taken," Scott replied, turning you around to face him. With his palms on the mantle, he caged you in. The masculine scent of oud and cedar made you inhale deeply. Your guard was up and you didn't want to let him in. On the flip side, you didn't want to be back on the streets or worse back with the handsy cop.

“Those men took you,” he continued, "I saved you. Now, are you going to be a good girl for me?"

You gulped, looking to those ocean blues. There was a kindness in them, but on the edge, if you look long enough there was an edge of darkness. This man had done things, seen things.

As stubborn as you were, you weren't stupid. Every step you took, had to be thought out and clever. The game had to be played right. Placing your palm on his chest, you nodded, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek.

Scott wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you tightly to him. The sigh he let out was one of contentment and bliss. That was the moment you began to doubt just what exactly you'd gotten yourself into.

Running a household wasn't something you were good at. You sucked at it. Surprisingly, Scott wasn't madder when your cooking was atrocious. You thought maybe he'd accuse you of trying to poison him. Instead, he was kind, telling you'd get the hang of it.

Something about the way he treated you made you want to try to make an effort. That didn't mean that you were rolling over to show him your belly. There was something sinister lurking beneath that nice guy’s exterior. As much as you wanted to crack it, you also wanted to stay away from it. Stay in your lane, bide your time and then run.

You kept tabs on your surroundings, especially the times the guards switched and all the blind spots of the cameras.

Sleeping arrangements made you the most uncomfortable; sharing a bed with a man you barely knew was hard. Or maybe it was the fact that you were here against your will. You could tell by his displays of affection and occasional hand roaming that he wanted more from you but seemed to keep his distance until you were ready. You just weren't sure how long that courtesy would extend. Scott seemed like a man who would take what he wanted sooner or later.

Your eye wandered to the clock on the oven. 11:58. Two more minutes before you were planning to book it out the back door. Hopefully, the land maps that you found in the library were accurate. If you ran straight for the wooded area, it was a straight shot to the road. Where you were praying that you'd run into a car and someone willing to take you far far away from here.

The pockets of your apron were stuffed with some cash you had found in Scott's sock drawer. That, along with a knife. You had survived on your own before, at least this time you'd have the cash to stay off the streets.

The timer went off, making you jump. It took a moment for the adrenaline to kick in but once it did, you dropped your spoon on the counter and rushed to the back door. You yanked it open, taking a brief moment to see if anyone came rushing to you. Nothing, just silence.

Needing no more of a nudge than that, you tore out the back like a rocket. The grass was soft beneath your feet as you raced over it. Hope filling your heart as the treeline came closer. You were going to make it. The weight on your chest eased as soon as you passed the treeline. You risked a look over your shoulder, sighing when there was no one on your heels. Yet. A part of your brain nagged that this was far too easy but you chose to ignore it, needing to hold onto that nugget of hope. It was such a foreign feeling.

Every tree looked identical, brushing against your arms with every step. Running wasn't your strong suit but every ounce of your strength was buzzing through your bones fueling you. Your lungs burned the further you got and your steps were slowly beginning to slow down. Deciding you were far enough from the house, you stopped running, walking at a brisk pace instead.

The house couldn't be seen from where you were and that made you feel more at ease with each step you took. Scott was going to be livid when he realized you were gone. Hopefully, you'd be long gone by that time.

The deeper you got into the woods, the more worry began to seep into your bones. You weren’t the outdoorsy type; plants were nice but actual wilderness was a different story. A rustling to your left forced you to halt and hesitate. The little bunny that came racing out made you jump and scream. You immediately slammed your hand over your mouth, eyes wide at the loud sound that escaped from your lips. You listened hard for any other footsteps coming toward you. Met with only the rustle and critter of animals.

The sinking feeling of dread in your stomach worsened as you came to realize that maybe the maps were wrong. Hours had passed and you seemed no closer to finding the road. Maybe you had gotten turned around. You'd thought you were going straight but who knew? These woods couldn't go on forever, could they? You weren't even completely aware of what part of the country you were in. The woods might go on for miles upon miles. Far enough that you’d never find your way out on foot. That thought made you scared but you tried to shove it down and focus on what to do next.

Resting your head on the rough bark of the tree. Regretting the decisions you'd made. For not planning things better. If you had just stayed put, you could be taking a nice bath before dinner, or be reading a book by the fireplace. Scott had given you a good life for the first time and you went and wrecked it.

Even if you knew how to get back, you couldn’t go back at this point. There's no way he wasn't going to punish you. That dark side you were afraid of was bound to finally surface. That sent a shiver down your spine and you found the incentive to move again. Further into the woods.

Just when you were ready to give up, lay down, and admit defeat, you saw the strip of concrete up ahead of you. Worried it might be a mirage, you raced up the hill, the energy that had been waning was now refreshed. You were so happy, that you were almost about to drop to your knees and kiss the asphalt.

On shaky legs you began walking along the concrete road, ready to jump out in front of any car you encountered. Luck seemed on your side, and a car came right around the corner, racing right towards you. Without a second thought, you put yourself into the street. There were only two ways this could go. Either they stopped for you or they ran you over. Both were good options at this point. You were too desperate, thirsty, hungry, and cold to care.

Tires screeched as they came to a halt. Breath whooshed out of you with relief, hands planting down on the hood of the car. The door opened and out stepped a man you didn't recognize. You opened your mouth to ask for help when he pulled out a phone and spoke into it. "I got her, boss," he said, and your heart sank as you realized he worked for Scott. Your fight or flight kicked in as you began to back away slowly, "yes sir, she's in one piece, but let me call you back, she's trying to run again.”

He tossed the phone inside and came charging at you. Stupidly you turned your back and tried to run away. You were no match for him, catching up to you quickly. A rag came over your mouth and the world dimmed to black.

Waking up felt like you were wading through a dense fog; this was a level of groggy you'd never experienced before. You tried to rub your eyes but found that you were unable to move them.

“Hello?" You forced out, your tongue heavy in your mouth. Everything felt dry and you yearned for something to drink. “Scott? Anyone?"

Scott had to be close since that man was supposed to bring you back to him.

“You're awake," Scott said and it took every ounce of your strength to turn your head to look at him. He stood leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. The soft smile on his face contradicted the rage simmering in his eyes, "I told you to be good didn't I?" He took a step closer. "I treated you nicely. Kept you fed and warm. And this is how you repay me?"

"Scott - " you started but stopped from the dryness of your throat. Showing mercy, he helped you sit up enough to drink. You greedily gulp the cool liquid, before pulling back, “You're right. I shouldn't have run. I’m sorry.”

The mattress sank as he sat beside you and he stroked your cheek softly. "You're right, you shouldn't have. But you did."

His hand trailed down your throat, fingertips teasing over your collar bones. His fingers traced the neckline of your dress, the same one you were wearing when you ran. The apron was long gone.

"I'm s-sorry," you repeated. Scott shook his head and your heart sank. He grabbed your throat, pinning you to the bed. You tugged at the silk ties on the headboard. He leaned down, getting super close to your face.

“You don't get it. I'm the puppetmaster and you're my puppet. I hold the strings and no matter how nice I am, if you step out of line, you pay the consequences.”

“Please -," you whispered. Scott grinned cruelly.

“I'm tired of letting you take advantage of my kindness,” he moved so that he was straddling your thighs. "I was going to be nice. Let you come to me at your own pace. But I think it’s time to make you mine. I want to fill you up, and watch you grow."

You bucked your hips hard, trying to dislodge him. You don't want to do this. Having his kid meant that you’d be stuck with him forever. “Scott, I’ll be good, I swear.”

Scott growled, palming his growing erection through his pants, "keep begging, baby. Look what it does to me."

"Fuck you!" You exclaimed, knowing there was no way of this. You dug your grave and now you're gonna die in it. “You're a bastard and I fucking hate you."

Scott let out a boisterous laugh, as he worked on opening the buttons of your dress. No amount of squirming made any kind of difference.

"Doesn't matter, Puppet. This time next week you'll be my wife. And with my ring on your finger, I'm going to have to remind you of that fact. Every. Single. Night.”

Scott lifted his hips, pulling your dress up. He brunched the bottom half in his hands and tore through the remaining buttons. His hands slid up your bare sides, cupping your breasts through the cotton bra you wore. Kissing his way down your chest. His focus was solely on marking you. Your curses and threats falling on deaf ears. You were in no position to appear harmful to him.

"Tell you what, little Puppet, if I reach into these panties and you're not wet, I'll stop. Otherwise, I make you mine." Scott glanced up at you, awaiting your response. You kept silent because you knew once he reached between your legs, it was a done deal. You weren't sure what it was exactly; the touch of another, being tied up, the roughness, or just Scott himself. But you couldn't bring yourself to lie that some part - a pretty large part - wanted him to make you his. More than anything you wanted to belong to someone.

You looked him dead in the eye and nodded, accepting his terms. Scott leaned down and caught on your lips. The kiss was hard and lustful, but there was an edge of something softer, like kissing someone you loved after a long separation. You arched up into it, reveling in the softness of his lips, and the way his tongue was in sync with yours.

His hand slid down your abdomen and past the waistline of your panties. The guttural groan that escaped from his mouth made you even wetter. His fingers glided into your soaked slit, coating them before he pushed two fingers in. It was your turn to moan, enjoying the burn of the stretch. You couldn't even remember the last time anyone had touched you down there, even yourself.

Scott bit your lip, dragging it out before his lips beginning to map out all angles your jawline, and down your neck. He was taking his time. You wanted to pretend you weren’t enjoying but if you were going to be his prisoner, you might as well make the most of it.

He reached behind you to unhook your bra, tossing it aside before his mouth worshipped your soft mounds. Nipping lightly at your nipple, making you keen. Your body was in overdrive, heating up with every pass of his tongue. Every lick and kiss went straight to your core. Clenching around his stroking fingers.

“Do you need more, Puppet?" Scott asked, releasing your nipple with a loud pop. You bucked your hips needily, "use your words, darling.”

"Scott, please," you pleaded. You felt him grin against your skin, burying his head in the valley of your breasts. He kissed that spot and trailed downward. Nestling between your now spread thighs.

He sucked lewdly on his fingers, moaning at the taste of you. Not wasting a second, he shoved your panties aside and dove in. Licking and sucking like you were his last meal and he needed it like air. Savoring every inch of you. His fingers joined in his tongue’s ministrations. The two combined were almost too much for your body and you reached your climax way quicker than you expected.

You came with a soundless cry, body arching and thighs locking around his head, as wave after wave shook through your body. Scott's arms wrapped around your thighs, pulling them from his head so that he could raise his head to meet your eye. His face shone with your slick. A mischievous glint in his gaze. He climbed up your body, kissing you deeply. Tasting yourself on his tongue was the most erotic thing you'd ever done. You wanted to hold to him, grab him by the back of the head and keep him in place but with your hands still bound, you just held on to the silk ties.

Scott sat back on his knees, making quick haste of his slacks. Only pushing them down enough to free his cock. The thick shaft looked so velvety soft and warm. It was water mouthwatering. You licked your lips, wanting to taste the bead of precum perched on the slit. His thumb smeared it over the spongy head before gliding it over your folds.

You gasped, feeling the blunt tip pushing into you. He pushed in slowly, stretching you even more than his fingers. The throbbing against your sensitive walls made your eyes roll back in your head. You gripped the ties, breathing heavily.

Scott braced his hands on either side of your torso, snapping his hips forward, bottoming out. A low steady moan as he pulled out and thrust back in. Setting himself a steady pace, he kept his eyes locked on yours. Making everything so much more intimate. You were unsure how to feel but deep down it felt safe.

With each grind of his hips, every brush of his lips on your skin, every nudge against your cervix, stroke over your sweet spot, he made you his. Moans entangling, sweat dripping, bodies becoming one. The puppetmaster and his loyal puppet. The strings were his to play and you liked it.

@maladaptivexxdaydreaming

Taglist:

@jobean12-blog

@broadwaybabe18

@beelicious-barnes

@caffiend-queen

@sweeterthanthis

@thefallenbibliophilequote

@christywantspizza

#scott huffman x reader #scott huffman #scott huffman is a babe #sebastian stan fanfiction #serial killer au #serial!killer!scott

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elyuzts-echo · 7 months

Note

hey! i hope your day is going great <3 idk if you’re currently open for requests or if you’re writing now at all, but i’m dying for some lee!george harrison. he’s such a cutie and deserves tickles. if you’re not writing right now, you can always decline or ignore. no pressure <3

GEORGE HARIRISOSNNSNSN!!!

ok since im feeling VERY generous today (i did 11 sprint-laps around my local court earlier), i shall grant you, beatlee anon... A tickle fic! (sorry for the late answer btw, but my my... may we be moots for george harrison? /j /nf)

"All these years... And it's only now I heard?"

Sum: During a practice (probably in 1967), Ringo accidentally finds something quite interesting about the lad himself, George.

Band practices were tiring. Knowing that there's an expectation and standard you are almost required to try to reach is tiring. The Beatles were no exception to it, as of their time, they were known as the no.1 band.

As the band was practicing for a couple songs that were soon to be featured on their album, "Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band", George was finding himself to be a bit drowsy. Sleepy almost.

George sat back in his chair, which wasn't all that comfy, and sighed. Closing his eyes as he listened to the faint playful arguing of John and Paul in the background. He ran a hand through his soft hair, seeming exhausted after countless hours of playing guitar over and over again.

Ringo was taking a sip of water from his bottle, as he drank, he noticed from the corner of his eye the guitarist almost falling asleep. He quickly put down his bottle and quietly walked over to George.

Once the drummer got to where George was, he softly poked the other male's side. "George, George. Wake up," Ringo said calmingly. "Here, bottle o' water." the drummer added on, handing George a water bottle.

As soon as George felt the poke on his side, he instantly opened his eyes and jumped out of his seat. Letting out a noise akin to a squeak. "...Oh. Thanks." George murmured, taking the bottle of water and drinking from it. Setting it down on the floor.

Ringo's blue eyes looked at George for a moment, a bit surprised on the guitarist's reaction.

"What was that sound?" Ringo asked.

"What sound, aye?" George asked. Pretending as if he didn't let the cutest sound out.

"Yknow, that sound." Ringo added on.

"What sound?" George questioned Ringo. Raising his eyebrows as he let the guitar hang off the strap that was around his shoulder.

"Come on - That sound you made. When I did this." Ringo said, poking George's side again. Making George let out a squeak. After a while, Ringo finally got it. He stepped back, as his eyes were tinted with a bit of excitement and fondness over his new discovery.

"You're tickl--!" Ringo exclaimed, but was cut off by George shushing him. "Ringo, you not tell anyone about this!" George said flusteredly, but also a bit loud. Getting John and Paul's attention.

"What's happening over there George?" Paul asked, crossing his arms with a small smirk. George just shook his head, "Nothin', nothin'." He reassured. Paul just gave a quick thumbs-up before continuing his conversation with John.

Ringo now had a playful grin on his face. "All these years... And it's only now I heard?" He asked teasingly, inching his hands closer to George's sides.

The guitarist had a smile of anticipation, giggling to himself already. "Ringo-- Ringo NO-!" George exclaimed, bursting into hearted giggles as Ringo squeezed his sides.

The guitarist squirmed, trying to be careful to not run over any wire or instruments as he tried to defend his ticklish sides.

"Rihingo!"

"Mh, yeah?

"Dohon't!!!"

"Don't what..?" Ringo asked with a more teasing tone.

"Tickle mehe!" George said before he burst into louder giggles as the drummer sped up his tickle attack on his bandmate.

Ringo's hands traveled up from George's sides to his ribs. And as his hands vibrated against his ribs, the guitarist squealed!

Squeal, I tell you! A very loud squeal as he tried to fight back. "RINGOHOHO!! Pleahahase!" He pleaded, unable to finish his sentence due to his laughter.

This just made Ringo even more excited, tickling his bandmate even more.

With that, Ringo and George finally got John and Paul's attention. George was flusteredly giggling, squealing, and maybe even snorting! Ringo was having the time of his life tickling George, while John and Paul watched, whispering to each other as they tried to hide a smile they couldn't wipe off.

"RIHNGOHO! *Snort!* PLEAHAHASE!" George pleaded even more, trying his best to stand up but ended up leaning onto Ringo as he couldn't resist the playful sensations shooting through his body. Specifically his lower ribs.

Aha!

Ringo stopped for a moment. And looked down at the giggly George who was leaning on him. "You--- You just snorted?" Ringo asked with a playful smile, though he already knew the answer, and then poked his lower ribs again. Causing George to snort. "*Snort!* Rihingo-!"

And... You already know the rest. Ringo continues to tickle George... And maybe even John and Paul help a bit.

But after the overwhelmingly ticklish sensations that wrapped around George like a blanket, Ringo finally let go. George letting out left over giggles.

"Rihingo... Gohod." He murmured, looking over at the playful drummer as he ran a hand through his hair. "You are so dead next time you do that!" George said playfully. Ringo just giggled and patted George's back.

"Really? Well, at least I woke you up." Ringo said playfully. George just chuckled as well.

And so on, the others had quite a successful and productive practice today! George had a bit of slack at the first few songs, but was able to pick it up after Ringo threatened more tickles.

~ End!

#deaky's inbox has been awaken!#deaky's lil writings #the beatles #george harrison #ringo starr #tickle #sfw tickles #sfw tickle community #tickle fic #sfw tickle fic #tickle community #EEE!! I WAS SO HAPPY WRITING THIS!!

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seafoam-roe · 2 years

Note

"I can't sleep" for the sleepy prompts!

This took me forever, I am sorry. My WIPs folder is massive. ;w;

Fyrwyb rolled over in her bed, sighing for what felt like the tenth time. The sound of rain softly falling outside was normally a comfort to her, but for some reason, tonight it felt much too loud. Her eyes scanned the small bedroom of her Mist apartment, the moonlight creeping in and spilling over the floor from a nearby window. The room was fairly dark still, which seemed to prickle her anxiety. Shadows seemed to move. Whispers that weren't real tickled her ears. She sat up quickly after trying her best to ignore her overactive imagination. Her fingers rubbed circles against her closed eyes.

"Get a hold of yerself, Fyr. There's nothin' here to worry ye."

She relented another sigh and pulled herself up from her bed, her legs aching. It seemed like she had a hard time sleeping all the time now, even though there was no reason to fret. She'd returned from the First with everyone in tow, safely. The ordeal had ended unexpectedly well, considering their lack of knowledge on their chosen mode of transportation.

The thought made her smile a little as she rounded a small corner, opening a door that led to a small seating area within the cramped but cozy apartment.

"O-Oh!" She gasped, stopping in her tracks midway through the door. Urianger sat on the couch across the room, dressed in a set of long pajamas covered up with a bath robe. He was all bundled up and reading one of her many books. She had watched him startle slightly at her quiet exclamation, his gaze lifting to meet hers.

"Mine apologies, Fyrwyb. I had no intention to frighten thee. Y'shtola mentioned that thy slumbers hath been greatly unsatisfying of late and didst inquire of my assistance in--"

His words were cut off by the roegadyn quickly disappearing back into her bedroom, which confused him immensely. He raised a brow and waited, watching the door.

"F-Fyrwyb? Hath I offended thee? I needn't stay if thee wouldst prefer I go."

The elezen stood nervously, hoping he hadn't upset her by letting himself in. She never locked the door, after all, which he had chastised her for many times. His right index finger tapped anxiously along the spine of the book he was holding.

When Fyrwyb finally reappeared, she was holding a large quilt in her arms, all crumpled up to keep it off the floor.

"D-Don't go. Stay. Sit back down, please."

Urianger didn't hesitate. He gladly sat, relieved that she didn't seem irritated. He would argue she even sounded relieved herself.

"I can't sleep. I haven't been able t'sleep well since we all got home," she continued, finally moving to settle on the couch next to him. She kicked her feet up so that her legs stretched out across the rest of the seat. Urianger moved his arms and sat back, the roegadyn laying over to the side, her head falling perfectly into his lap. His cheeks turned a soft pink, but he wasn't overly embarrassed. She shuffled around with the quilt and eventually got comfy, her cheek resting against his thigh. Urianger wasn't sure what to do with his hands.

"Twas not an ordeal to take lightly, tis true. Wouldst thou benefit to discuss it?"

It was quiet for a long moment before she finally responded.

"I don't think so. At least, not for now. Could ye just...be here? With me? Maybe read t'me?" She asked innocently, causing Urianger's heart to swell. She cared not for what he was even reading, only wanted to hear his voice.

"Of course, yes," he replied.

She took another deep breath filled with Urianger's familiar rosemary scent. He used one hand to hold open the book once more, the other resting carefully against her arm. He rubbed his thumb along her soft skin while he began to read. He could feel her energy shift greatly. The tension in her shoulders melted. It took only one bells time for her to drift off peacefully.

#ffxiv roegadyn #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv #female roegadyn #femroe #urianger augurelt #ffxiv #roegadyn #roegadyn wol #urianger x wol #wolship #wol x urianger #wolianger #ffxiv shadowbringers #ffxiv writing #ffxiv urianger

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noelleai · 2 years

Text

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" Noelle asked as she approached the depressed looking girl.

Susie was sitting in the corner of the room just staring into space. Her shoulders were slumped and her head hung low. Her hair was messy and limp with no energy to even try and fix it. Noelle couldn't help but feel bad for her. The girl looked so miserable and sad that it hurt Noelle's heart. She wanted to do something about it and see a smile on Susie's face again. "Hey, don't worry about it!" Noelle said as she sat down next to Susie. "You're not alone." Noelle then began stroking Susie's arm in an attempt to comfort her.

Susie glanced over to her and gave her a weak smile. It wasn't much, but it was still better than nothing. After a moment, Susie seemed to notice that she had company. She then turned back to look at her phone screen, pretending like Noelle didn't exist.

"Are you okay?" Noelle asked once more. She felt bad for ignoring her friend, but she didn't want to say anything that might make Susie feel worse.

"I... I'm fine," Susie replied slowly. "Just a little down today. Don't mind me..."

Susie's voice sounded strange, almost robotic. Noelle could tell that her friend wasn't alright. There was something bothering her.

"Is it something I can help with?" Noelle asked, hoping that she could make her feel better.

"No, thank you," Susie answered. Her voice was still cold and distant.

Noelle knew that her friend was lying to her. She didn't want her to be uncomfortable. So, Noelle decided to change the subject. "So what are you reading on your phone?" Noelle asked. "It looks interesting."

"Oh, it's nothin'," Susie lied. "Just some stupid video game."

Susie's voice was stiff and formal. It was obvious that she didn't want to talk about whatever it was she was playing.

"What's the name of the game?" Noelle asked. "I've never seen it before."

Susie looked up from her phone screen and stared at Noelle blankly for a few moments. She clearly hadn't thought about the question yet.

Noelle gave her a minute to think. She expected her to come up with an answer soon enough.

"I don't remember," Susie finally said. "I downloaded it awhile ago. I was probably bored and just wanted something to play."

She shrugged her shoulders.

The two sat there for a moment, neither one saying anything.

"Can I get you anything? Do you want some ice cream? A milkshake?" Noelle asked.

"No thanks," Susie replied.

"Do you need a hug? I'll give you a nice big hug." Noelle offered.

"No thanks," Susie repeated.

"I know how to make you smile," Noelle went on. "How about we go outside and play volleyball. It's really fun! You can beat me all day!"

Susie paused for a moment. Then she spoke. "Volleyball is not my thing."

"Aww, why not? We could play until the sun goes down."

Susie continued to stare at her phone.

"Or maybe you'd rather ride bikes? Or rollerblade? Rollerblading is really fun too!"

Susie remained silent.

"Well, if that's not your thing, then maybe we could-"

"No, I don't want to do any of those things." Susie uttered without looking up.

"Why not? They sound like so much fun!" Noelle exclaimed.

Susie suddenly stood up. "I'm going home."

Noelle was shocked by her sudden departure. "But... why? What's wrong?" Noelle asked.

Susie kept walking, refusing to turn around.

"Come on, Susie. Please. Talk to me." Noelle pleaded.

She tried to get her attention. But Susie wouldn't even look her way.

"Susie, please don't go home. Please don't leave me all alone here. I don't like it when you're upset." Noelle was getting worried now. Susie was acting stranger than normal. She didn't know what to do.

Susie finally stopped walking. She took a deep breath.

"Please don't walk away from me. I'm begging you." Noelle begged.

"I am not your pet." Susie spoke with a cold voice.

"But I want to help you. I care about you. Please let me help you." Noelle pleaded.

"Noelle, I don't want your help. I don't want your pity. Just let me be." Susie said.

Noelle felt hurt and rejected. Her heart ached with sorrow. She didn't understand.

"I know you're hurting inside. I can see it in your eyes. You want to cry but you won't allow yourself to." Noelle said sadly. "I don't understand why you're mad at me. Why you hate me. I don't deserve that. I never did anything to you." Noelle cried.

Susie turned around, staring at her with cold eyes.

"Maybe I can prove to you that I'm not a bad person. Let's go to the park for a picnic. We can eat strawberries and watch the clouds sail across the sky." Noelle smiled.

Susie glared at her.

"It's a beautiful day, let's spend it together instead of wasting our time hating each other." Noelle said.

Susie leaned against the wall and sighed. "Fine. I'll come with you. But only because I'm hungry."

Noelle's face lit up with joy, knowing that she had finally gotten through to her friend. She smiled brightly and ran up to Susie, hugging her tight.

"Thank you!" Noelle said happily. "I'm so glad you're coming!" She giggled. "I'm so happy to have you with me today. Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Noelle hugged Susie tighter and rubbed her cheek against hers.

Susie hugged her back tightly, exhaling deeply. She didn't want to break Noelle's heart. But she was beginning to realize that Noelle was a bit too clingy for her taste. Susie pushed herself away from Noelle. "Whoa. Easy there."

Susie watched as Noelle skipped out of the room, a grin on her face. She was so happy to have her friend back. Maybe all she needed was a little cheering up after all. { TYPE: Long-form story * M2 }

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ssparksflyy · 2 months

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Hello :) usually I’m a Jason or Percy girl but can you make a Leo Valdez fic or canon when he feel like the seven weel (I can’t spell but I hope you understand) he felt insecure and alone. But his friend the reader who have a crush on him. Tell him that he is enough that, he doesn’t need to be powerfull or beautiful like others demidgod and that she loved liked for who he is. Please 🙏

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

forever winter ˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

pairing: leo valdez x fem!reader warning(s): tiny angst, fast-paced lowkey word count: 1.5k a/n: hiiii! tysm for requesting ♡♡ i hope u enjoy thisss! this could maybe get a pt. 2 ngl 🤭 idk we'll see when im done with my requests ♡ this is kind of based off of forever by taylor swift, just the lyric thats like "all this time i didn't know you were breaking down" :) im soso sorry this took me forever 2 get out, writers block can smd

you covered your ears as you entered bunker nine and were greeted with the screaming sound of a woodcutter in use.

leo, as always, was working on some new project and didn't hear you enter.

you walked over to his workbench and sat in the chair he had made specifically for your, because you spent so much time there together, and waited for him to finish what he was doing.

his eyes remained glued to what he was doing, still unaware of your presence. you couldn't help but stare at him while he worked. you admired the way his curls fell perfectly into place, the concentration on his face, the grease stains on his shirt, the veins that were popping out of his hands like streaks of lightning... lord you had to force yourself to look away.

he finally shut off the woodcutter and looked up, doing a double-take when he realized you were there, a small smile forming on his face.

"what're you doing here?" he asked.

"nothin, do i need an excuse to visit my best friend?" you asked, mirroring his smile.

he shook his head, looking down. something felt kind of... off about him, like something was bothering him.

"are you ok? did you want me to leave?" you asked him, putting you hand on the table and moving it closer to his.

he looked up at you, and you noticed the faint tear stains on his cheeks.

"no, no" he said quickly, grabbing you hand and giving it a small squeeze, "please stay."

you squeezed his hand back, "what's wrong?"

he sighed and pulled up a chair, sitting on it but never letting go of your hand, "have you ever felt like- like some people have got this kind-of inside joke that you aren't apart of or don't understand?"

you nodded slowly, unsure of where he was going with this.

"i, i kind of feel like that when im with the rest of the seven.. like yea we're all friends, but they're all also couples and im just.. there." he said, taking a small pause, "and-and, not to mention, they're all so much more powerful than i am. they're all good in battle, pros at sword fighting and what do i do? make stupid little projects? i dont know, i just feel like i look stupid next to them, like im hanging onto something that doesn't exist."

you stayed quiet, left in a small shock, finally when you managed to speak all you could say was, "leo, you should've told me this sooner, why didn't you?"

he looked down and shrugged, "didn't seem important"

you couldn't help but stay quiet again for a second. you felt like an idiot for not realizing how he felt sooner, sure you weren't the brightest, but there still had to be signs. he gave signs, and you didn't see them. what kind of a friend were you? and he didn't feel the need to tell you? did you do something wrong? had you said or done anything that might've led him to believe he couldn't tell you? you quickly shoved these feelings down. right now, the boy you loved was the one who needed help.

"first of all, you know you can talk to me about anything, okay? anything at all. whatever you feel is important, don't ignore it, you can tell me. you know i'm always gonna be here, im gonna stay through it all" you said, squeezing his hand and giving him a sincere look. he just smiled and nodded, showing you he was listening.

"second of all, im so sorry you feel like that. you do not look stupid next to them, okay? you are so powerful, i mean, you've got literal fire powers! also, did you just happen to forget about the time you built a whole flying ship!! and saved the world?? you aren't holding onto something that isn't there. they're your friends, they care about you, i swear they do. ever notice how percy's always replacing and leaving you water, so you dont get dehydrated? or how annabeth leaves little notes and suggestions on your blueprints? jason's always making sure theres a small breeze blowing through the forge, so you don't overheat, and piper- gods piper makes sure you've eaten and taken care of yourself more than i do! hazel and frank try to pop in and make sure you're okay whenever they visit. they care about you, i care about you, we all care about you leo. you're so important to all if us, especially me, okay? i have no idea what i'd do without you."

tears had began to spill from leo's eyes once again, but they weren't ones of sadness, you could tell, based of the smile that was on his face. he got up quickly from his seat, letting go of your hand and walking over to your side of the table, pulling you in for a bear hug, as he cried into the crook of your neck.

you hugged him back tightly, trying to ignore the fact that your heart was racing a million miles per second. leo was tapping something in morse code quickly on your back, he was yet to show you how to understand it, but it felt nice.

you stayed like that for a good minute, holding leo as he calmed down. you meant everything you said. he was your summer sun, and you'd fall to pieces if he wasn't there. it'd be a forever winter.

he was the one to break away, slowly moving away from the hug and looking down at you with glossy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"thank you, (y/n), for everything" he whispered, "i don't know what i'd do without you either."

you cupped he cheeks and lowered his head, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, "of course, i love you, repair boy."

you had no idea where this wave of confidence was coming from, but no matter what happened next, you knew you'd be freaking out about it later in your cabin.

"i love you too, (n/n). you're the greatest friend i could ever ask for."

you quickly snapped back into reality when you heard his words. friend. that's what you were. you'd let your stupid fantasies get the best of you, and now he probably felt uncomfortable, way to go!

you slowly removed your hands from his face, nodding your head and saying, "yea! i mean, you're the greatest friend i could ask for!"

he gave you a warm smile, but all you could feel is cold. cold and embarrassed. he moved back over to his side of the table sitting back down on his stool.

"so, you feeling ok now?" you asked, looking down.

"i am, yea. thank you, again." he said, his smile never leaving his face.

you looked over to the clock on his wall, "of course, im glad to hear. im so sorry, i lost track of time, i have to go." you said quickly, hopping down from your stool and walking toward the door.

"wait!" leo said, hopping down from his stool and taking a step forward before pausing. you turned around quickly, desperate for him to say anything that wouldn't make your actions from earlier look completely stupid., "see...see you at dinner?", he asked quickly.

you nodded your head quickly, desperate to get out of bunker nine before a single tear began to fall. you quickly opened the door, rushing out.

you walked a good distance away from the bunker before stopping by a tree, falling to the floor, and burying your face in your hands. you were so embarrassed, all you'd ever done with leo was brush hands and give an occasional comforting hug or hand squeeze. today you had not only done that, but also kissed his forehead and told him you loved him, only for him to call you his best friend. you were glad you cheered him up, and that he opened up to you, but perhaps you had gotten too in touch with your feelings, and now he has the possibility of never doing it again. you'd liked leo since he had arrived at camp, your crush only growing the closer you got. had you risked that today. tears slipped your eyes as you sat against the trunk of the tree, thoughts continuing to flood your mind.

little did you know though, just a few feet away, back in the bunker you had just left, leo was also stuck on what he had said.

he couldn't believe it. you were being so kind to him, like you always were, helping through something he was struggling with and all he could do was call you a great friend? he didn't think of you as just a friend, you were his whole world! so then why did he call you a friend?? he sat there, stuck in his pool of regret.

the two lovers, completely unaware of the feelings they shared for each other, feeling miles apart from each other, unable to say what they really feel.

a/n pt.2: again, im so so sorry this took so long to get out </3 hope you enjoyed tho! ive kinda been goin though it but we all good now :) anyway ima go watch mama mia now, have a good day/night!

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson 𖹭

#percy jackson #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #by bells ♡⋆ ࣪.

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