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#mae talks too much
hollandsmushroom · 1 year
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mens hipbones need to be kissed
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mamawasatesttube · 18 days
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swear to fuckign god sometimes im like 👌 This Close to taking down sotm. and every single time i get a comment from someone with no reading comprehension who goes "I know you said no clark bashing in your authors note but hear me out: im gonna bash clark" i get a little closer
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perryisle · 9 months
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I think that every morning mae has to like. Psyche herself up in preparation for work. Like she's looking in the and she's like "its gonna be a NORMAL DAY today you're gonna be FINE nothing bad is going to happen" and then she goes out with Vinny and he starts Doing Shit
real and true!
mae, hyping herself up in the mirror: today is going to be NORMAL everything is FINE you LOVE your job SO much
later that day:
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wiiwarechronicles · 2 years
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Can we get more granola and mae interactions?
I’m not sure! The time I drew them together was when Bo (the creator of tubbolul) mentioned em together. I honestly don’t know too much about rpverse canon or the characters unique traits in rpverse Y’know? Maybe I’ll draw them again if I read back a bit more on the blogs and muster up the guts to ask Bo about it lol
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sallytwo · 2 years
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there are things here that i enjoy and look forward to. but it’s all through this haze of. wellll you guys know how it is 😁 . except when i think about going home it’s just the clearest most in focus happiness i’ve felt in months
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horse-shit · 22 days
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oh to do vent art... if only
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arolesbianism · 1 month
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Sigh. Nikola why must you be one of the more interesting oni characters. I don't wanna think abt you with your stupid spiky blond hair and your unethical science that mostly just serves to make Jackie more shitty by proxy. But I do. Because you're kind of orbo blorbo. Fuck you Nikola I hope you explode again
#rat rambles#oni posting#hes just extremely fascinating in the scientist crowd because he has a weirdly large presence in the like. actual meat of the lore.#like he has an actual arc that relates to the quote unquote plot of oni#he made the field around earth he made the neural vaculators (presumably) he contributed to the teleporters and was also involved with#some of the other projects in the bioengineering department and is one of the two scientists that we know for sure knew abt and worked with#duplicants and all of that and almost every instant of nikola being relevant hes only seen second hand#the One thing that we have that is Maybe directly from him is an email that hes the most likely canidate for#and I mean it Im pretty sure outside of that hes only ever either mentioned second hand or doesnt talk in the case of that one ellie email#even the one time we see proper dialogue from him it isnt even a recording its a second hand retelling from ruby#its soooo fascinating I dont even know if this was on purpose but I love it regardless#now tbf theres other characters who are also mostly if not only mentioned second hand but none that have as much of a lore presence as him#nails was close but then 'a seed is planted' dropped and they became a part of the troubling second hand nikola info club#watch them finally add ashkan dialogue and its just him talking abt nikola being involved in the puppy ai incident too or smth#the thing is that isnt even that out there nikola Did work on the teleporters and worked on somw gravitas time travel shit too so who knows#Im trying to think of theres anyone else whos mentioned in the logs but doesnt actually talk and I know there's steve and ada but hmmm#this isnt counting artifact or news artical specific mentions tbc we're talking within character dialogue#sorry meep mae and pei#WAIT cant believe I forgot abt devon rip bestie my sincerest apologies#I think thats it tho everyone else whos mentioned in dialogue has dialogue Im pretty sure#well direct dialogue I mean#oh tbc ashkan is also in that club#hes probably in second place on the weirdness of his lack of dialogue due to his striking presence in several log list#now tbf hes mentioned like 3 times I think? not counting artifacts ofc. so he's not talked abt That frequently#but one of those is in a paradox and the others are in story traits so its still interesting#I had already loved ashkan before doing my full lore dive so finding out this mysterious dr.ali was my boy ashkan was a delight#now ofc technically ashkan could have secret dialogue that we just dont know is him since we dont know his work id but still#we dont know nikolas either but nikola is likely in engineering and ashkan is likely in robotics so theyre both not likely to be them#they Could be as they do likely work with the bioengineering department but nikola is fully crossed out as the fossil guy at least#ashkan Could be the fossil guy but its not likely imo as theyre also the guy in the husbandry log implying theyre fully a biologist
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waywardsalt · 3 months
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fire emblem echoes: shadows of valentia is such a good game i just wish it was normal about women
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angelbarelywrites · 1 month
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♡ tommy gets jealous | oneshot
♡ fandom; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003/2006)
♡ characters; Thomas Hewitt
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡cw; mentions of kidnapping and violence, don’t date people who want to slash you irl not a good foundation for a relationship
♡notes; I put on my big boy panties and wrote something other than a bulleted list!!
I just love a good “i trust you but i sure as fuck don’t trust anybody else” type jealously trope. Also some Tommy doing ASL!! We love a (selectively?) mute king.
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
You were an oblivious person. Most of the time, anyways. You’d been totally shocked when Luda Mae didn’t let you leave the night you arrived at the Hewitt house, totally shocked when Charlie told you Thomas was obsessed with you, and more surprised still that Charlie had been right.
You weren’t stupid— you put two and two together that these folks were cannibals as soon as you saw the basement. You nearly talked Monty into letting you go, and you slipped your restraints a couple times before you were settled in. You’d done well in school and still could read a book in one sitting.
Maybe… socially inept was a better word, harsh as it sounded. It was only people that you had a such a hard time with. You trusted them, but you could almost never wrap your head around what they were thinking.
Like the customers that stayed too long . It happened a lot. Bikers and tourists and all sorts of folks would stop in when you were working in the convenience store, and usually more than once a day a man would stay leaned on the counter, chatting away until his buddies were about to leave him. Sometimes they’d be alone, and Luda would give you a break early and they’d go off looking all huffy.
It very rarely occurred to you that the men were trying to flirt. You didn’t think of yourself as someone that happened to- and treated all customers the same. Why would they think you wanted to bang em when all you did was smile? Being nice was part of your job.
Luda Mae payed no mind to the men or your conversations. If there’d been any cause for concern, she’d be able to quash it very easily. But she found it endearing, especially your confusion and apathy when they did get balls enough to be blunt . In her mind you were so devoted to Thomas that other men were just nuisances.
That’s why no one had mentioned it to Thomas. He rarely came up to help now that you were there to help Luda Mae, but today there was extra stock, and her joints had been aching from the weather. You were on register, Luda Mae relaxed in a rocker on the porch, and Tommy stalked the aisles and put out trinkets and canned food and all the other junk you sold. You were trying not to go distract him and stood leaned over the counter, doodling on some scrap paper between customers.
“Well hello darlin,” A man drawled, hands on his belt buckle. He was trying too hard to be a real Texan, but he wasn’t from up North like you. “You got any cigarettes back there?”
“Sure do! Let’s see… got Camels, Lucky Strike- I really like these ones, the Salems, they’re menthol-“
“You look too sweet to smoke. I’ll take the Camels,”
“Well, only do it on special occasions,” you shrugged, not paying much attention as Thomas stalked towards the front “Anything else?”
“Well. That depends.”
“On?”
“If you’re free or not tonight.”
You blinked, then furrowed your brow “You tryna ask me out?”
“Well I- oho shit!” The man laughed uncomfortably as he noticed Thomas right behind him “You scared me there big guy-“
He huffed and slunk behind the counter as the man nervously tried to get back on topic “Anyways… ahem…so about that date-?”
You huffed and out a hand on your hip “Well, depends?”
He perked up a bit “On what?”
“If you can beat my boyfriend in a fight.” On cue Thomas wrapped his arms around you from behind, growling as he hooked his chin on your head.
The man quickly turned tail and mumbled something about being out of practice, forgetting the cigarettes completely. You could feel Tommy relax and turned to let him pick you up and set you on the counter. Even then you weren’t eye to eye with the giant of a man…but it was closer, and you liked feeling tiny anyway.
“…hi baby.” You cooed and loosely wrapped your arms around his neck. He huffed and nuzzled you, as he often did as a form of reassurance. You giggled and pecked his mask “Annoying, right?”
He nodded and scowled, keeping his grip tight on your hips
“…what’s wrong?”
He hesitated but pulled back to sign ‘Mine. All mine. Right?’
You giggled again “Of course! All yours- always.”
He smiled softly- the sort of expression only you could coax out of him ‘Always’
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saturnville · 3 months
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stolen moments, major john egan
pairing: major john "bucky" egan x black fem oc (amelia mae egan)
content: john manages to call amelia after not hearing her voice for weeks.
an: this was the top choice in the poll so far. I've been anxious to write so we knocked this off the list first lol. enjoy!
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“Are you alright, Major?” 
They’d just arrived at a new station. It smelled like sweat and fear. Men streamed throught the doors like a school of fish. Their deep voices shook the brick walls as their conversations bellowed throughout the building. Dozens of men struggled to keep their composure. He was one of them.
He was overwhelmed. Tired. Desparate. His clothes felt tight against his body. The scent of gasoline and fumes clung to his vest. His hat damp and chilled against his forehead. His shoes were coated in black soot.
John’s eyes caught the telephone in the corner of the station. It was secluded from the rest of the quarters, in a corner, protected by a frosted glass divider. John's shoes grazed the dirty floor as he strode purposefully towards the telephone.
“M’fine. Head in and get your rest. Long day in the morning.” He didn’t know how he was able to make out coherent sentences. Gale stepped in, noticing his friend’s disheveled state and guided the men to the resting quarters. 
John’s shoes kissed the dirty floor as he stood long strides to the telephone. He shrugged off his backpack and slid it by his feet. His hands trembled as he plucked the phone off the hook and typed in the number he had engraved in his heart. 
It rang. And rang. And rang. His heartbeat was in his ears. His nails scratched as the black paint around the phone as he succumbed to his anxiety. He sent a silent prayer to God above. 
Then he heard it. “Hello?” John’s forehead tapped the frosted glass as he rested against it. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave. He’d never been particularly sensitive, but he was overwhelmed with emotion, good and bad, and hearing her sweet voice made his eyes well with tears. 
The words were stuck in his throat and all he could release was a heavy sigh. That seemed to be enough for her to identify the caller. “Johnny?” 
He shut his eyes. A lone tear fell from his eye. “Hey, Rosie.”
Amelia let out a soft cry. “Oh, thank God! I-I thought something happened to you; I hadn’t heard from you in weeks. Are you okay, where are you now? Is Gale alright, when are you coming…” His first instinct was to cut her rambling short, but the sound of her voice was the choir-like song his soul ached to hear. 
He’d gone three weeks without hearing her voice. It was the most tortuous three weeks of his life. For 21 days, he survived by remembering the last words she said before they hung up, Whatever you do, do not die on me, do you understand? I love you, John. I love you. I love you. I love you. It kept his heart beating.
A small smile tugged on his lips. “I’m okay, baby, I promise. Things got a little rough; didn’t stay in one place too long. I didn’t mean to scare you.”  
“I’m just happy to hear your voice…are you okay?” 
His stomach churned at her question. A feeling of despair threatened to creep upon him. Thirty men lost. A plane in the middle of the ocean. An uneasy stomach and even more uneasy mental state. His head pounded, his body shook with unwanted adrenaline, and his hands craved the feeling of her hot skin. He was not okay. 
“No,” he replied honestly, rubbing his eye with the stump of his palm. “I’m not okay but I will be. Especially because I get to talk to my favorite girl. Tell me about your day..”
He heard her heavy sigh. “Deflection won’t rid you of what you’re feeling.” 
“Talking about it won’t do too much good, either. It’s…it’s hard, Rose. I just.” John’s jaw clenched as he struggled to articulate what he felt. “I just can’t talk about it right now, Amelia. If I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together.” 
Silence stretched on, interrupted only by the sound of her shuffling on the other end. She was probably sitting at the edge of her bed. He imagined her, looking pretty in her long-sleeved pajamas and satin scarf, with a blanket tucked under her chin.
“Then how about this,” she started. “You make it home in one piece to tell me about it later, yeah?” 
“Always making demands,” John laughed. The first genuine sound of joy he’d made all day. And it made her smile. So wide that her cheeks were sore and her dimples made an appearance. “But you’ve got a deal.” He readied himself to speak again, but a tap on his shoulder interrupted him. 
Gale. Meeting with the CO in five minutes, he mouthed. John nodded. He ran a hand through his dirty hair. “Darlin’, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes; I’m sorry.  If I don’t call in the morning, know I love you, alright?” 
“I know. I love you, too. Don’t apologize. Just make it back to me.”
“Always.”
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hollandsmushroom · 2 years
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so many people say that family is family and you always forgive family and you always put them first but thats not the whole story, people who have not earned that forgiveness don’t get it simply because you're related, and Matilda articulates that perfectly. it gives the long searched for permission to the victims that its okay that they put themselves first. Forgiveness is earned, and if it is not earned then leave, put yourself first, protect yourself, and forgive yourself for leaving. 
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.⋆。Continuing The Bloodline。⋆.
Thomas Hewitt x plus size reader
An incident with a dryer, a knitted hat and your mother-in-law’s prying questions leads to something great.
Warnings: ssmut, breeding kink, unprotected sex, size kink, slight reference to murder, fluff, cream pie, no prep
WC: 1.3k
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
Halloween Celebration
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The rain had been relentless over the past week, constantly battering at the windows and providing a comforting white noise through the house. Hoyt had decided after the second straight day of downpour that he would hole up at the station, saying he needed space away from his brother and his ‘whore’ but you knew that it was because Luda Mae wouldn’t let him smoke in the house, even if the porch was temporarily out of commission from the rain.
You were honestly happy with the whole situation, given that most of your jobs involved being in the garden all day or helping down at the gas station and your husband spent most of his free time in the basement, you finally had the chance to just relax together. 
You hummed as you pulled the laundry out of the dryer you somehow convinced the family to buy, placing each piece of clothing lovingly into your basket. “Oh no.” You muttered, picking up the pink beanie that you had knitted which had evidently ended up in the dryer by accident. It was now a quarter of the size it was when you had first made it with your mother-in-law’s assistance.
Sighing, you placed it at the top of the pile before propping the basket on your hip and making your way upstairs. “Y/N, is the laundry done?” The last step creaked as you stepped on it.
“Yes ma’am. Although I accidentally shrunk the hat we made.” You approached the older woman with the now tiny hat after putting the laundry basket down on the dining room table. Luda Mae smiled as softly as she could while taking it from your hands.
“Would ya look at that, it’s barely big enough for a baby.” She looked from the hat back up to you. “When are you and Thomas gonna give me some grandbabies, this would be perfect for them. You know you two have a duty to keep this family going.” Heat rushed to your cheeks at the thought of carrying Thomas’s baby.
It wasn’t uncommon for Luda Mae to suggest an expansion of the Hewitt family, especially since your wedding almost a year ago but you hadn’t seriously considered it until recently. Imagining your giant of a husband over you, pumping you full over and over again, forcing you to cum on his thick cock as he bred you- it was too much and if you thought about it for longer than a minute, you would soak your panties through. 
You cleared your throat and awkwardly looked away. “We haven’t really talked about it. I’m not actually sure if Tommy even wants kids.” There was a pause, then the overwhelming presence of your husband appeared behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and met his wide blue eyes. 
Luda Mae smirked as Thomas snatched the hat from her hand, not even bothering to berate him for being rude. You opened your mouth to question him but only a squeak escaped your lips as you suddenly found yourself hoisted over his broad shoulder, watching as Luda Mae disappeared around a corner, muttering to herself about a visit to town. 
You bounced against his muscular back as your husband took the stairs two at a time in his haste to return to your shared bedroom. The door slammed shut behind you with so much force that the walls shook. “Thomas!” His name was forced from your lungs in a gasp as he threw you onto your perfectly made bed.
He growled at you in response and held up the small beanie with a surprising amount of care. Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “What?” He shook the hat but you still didn’t understand him, so he took another route.
You let out a yelp as he grabbed your shirt collar and tugged, ripping the fabric in two, exposing your naked chest to his hungry gaze. “Thomas!” But he ignored your cry, his huge hands now fiddling with your belt to pull your jeans down your soft legs. His eyes were wild with lust, chest heaving as he struggled to breathe through his mask.
You attempted to wiggle away but his hands clamped down on your ankles and pulled. Your clothed pussy met the bulge of his cock. Thomas loomed over you, the mass of his body blocking out the light from the small bulb above the bed. 
His eyes stayed locked onto yours as he placed his left hand onto your plush lower stomach, letting you feel the cold metal of his wedding ring. “Do you want to have a baby with me?” You asked softly, making him nod enthusiastically. 
Heat raced through your veins, settling between the apex of your thighs. “Right now?” He responded by shucking down his own pants just enough to release his thick cock. Pre-cum beaded on the end of his uncut length, he was throbbing almost violently at the thought of finally doing his husbandly duty.
Rain pelted the windows of the bedroom as you watched your husband wait for consent. His muscles were wound tight like a predator waiting to strike and you wondered if this is what his victims saw moments before they met their demise. And for some reason, it was fucking hot.
You gingerly placed your left hand onto his own, your wedding rings hitting each other with a soft clink as you applied more pressure to your stomach. “Get me pregnant Tommy.” 
His chest rumbled as he hooked a fat thumb into your ruined panties, yanking them to the side. You had barely a moment to fill your lungs before it was punched out of you with a single, brutal thrust. 
The scream you let out was barely even human, it was feral and raw and it drove your husband past the brink of insanity. He didn’t even wait until you adjusted to the massive heft of his cock, he just started moving, desperate to fill you up with every last drop of his cum.
He grabbed the soft fat of your legs and pushed them up, pinning your knees as close to your chest as he could get. Thomas thrust downwards, the fat head of his cock hitting your cervix with each roll of his thick hips. “Please! Want your babies!”
His fingers dug into the back of your legs as his pace somehow became more frantic. You clung to him like it was the only thing you knew how to do as you thrashed on the mattress. Pleasure was turning your mind hazy, words spilling from your lips. “Tommy! Make me pregnant!” Your nails dug into his still clothed back, forcing a pleasured hiss from his lips.
Black hair hung over his face, brushing against your cheeks as he pressed himself even closer to you, he could not bear even an inch of space between you, not when he was so desperately trying to give you the one thing that you were begging for. 
Your body seized as the tension in your belly finally snapped. Your vision whited out and you howled, clawing at your husband who continued to thrust, working you through your high and sending you headfirst into another.
His cock throbbed violently in your fluttering cunt, he was dangerously close. “Tommy.” You moaned through your gasping breaths. “Fill me up, give me your babies.” 
Thomas’s head dropped to the crook of your neck as he pushed into one final time before heat spread through your stomach. He clung to you as tightly as he could, letting your legs fall to his hips. You both stayed like that for a while, his softening cock still nestled deep inside you, his body covering yours as you caught your breath.
“Ya know, it might take a few tries.” His laugh came out as more of a huff against the cooling skin of your neck. You kissed his temple and ran your hands through his hair as he wound his arms around your thick waist, holding you as close as he could.
You hoped that next year, you would have a little Thomas in your arms and maybe another one on the way. Like Luda Mae said, it was your duty to carry on the Hewitt name.
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babygorewhore · 5 months
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You’re everything.
Eddie Munson x fem reader
Eddie Munson comes home and sees the bedroom destroyed. Your mental health has taken a toll and you feel worthless. But he’s always there to remind you how much he loves you and how he’s always willing to help you pick up the pieces.
Warnings! Hurt comfort. Mental illness. I wrote this with the reader having BPD and autism. This is based on my experience. I haven’t seen much on those two issues. Feelings of worthlessness. Mild self harm. Anger episode. Anxiety. I hope this comforts you because you’re worthy of love and Eddie would love you no matter what. Also the photo used is just for aesthetic. Not proofread.
Thank you to my friends, Dolly, Mae and Em for helping me with this. I love you girls.
Eddie pushed open the apartment door, with his hip, a few grocery bags lined down his arm because he refused to make two trips. “Hey, sweetheart, I’m back!” He shut the door with his foot, did a quick unfocused glance around the living room.
“Fuck, the store was packed! I think you would have stayed in the car, baby.” He set down the bags and started putting away the cold items. Eddie yawned afterwards, closing the refrigerator and stretched. His black, stolen back sweatshirt rising above his stomach.
It dawned on him that you haven’t responded at all. “Baby?” He called again. No answer. He frowned and approached the bedroom door and he gasped when he saw the scene.
The bed was torn apart. Blankets thrown off and the pillows dented. Eddie went to take a step before he looked on the ground. Stim toys were all over the floor. Stuffed animals and even clothes. A few shirts were ripped. He didn’t see you. “Princess, what’s going-“
A hole was in the wall next to the closet. A small one but it went deep in the plaster. Eddie moved quickly. Surveying the damage, he saw a bloody imprint. Knuckles. Eddie sighed. You were having an episode. He should have known. You didn’t answer his texts. You hated phone calls. This wasn’t the first time this happened. Eddie on a number of times had to sit by your side during dark hours.
But he loved you. You were beautiful. His everything. It wasn’t one sided. If anything, you gave too much to him. You were always supporting him. Even when he was unbearable. You stood by him. He would do whatever you needed. He needed you. He wanted you. Eddie knew immediately where you were then.
He gently opened the closet door and he saw you. You were wearing a large t shirt, it went past your thighs and loose plaid pajama pants.
Over ear headphones on, your phone face down on the floor and you were stimming. Rocking back and forth. You were panting, your face flushed and he could see your eyes squeezed shut. Eddie saw your right hand. Your knuckles were bloody and bruised.
He didn’t want to startle you so Eddie opened the door further, enough for you to hear it over music.
Eddie’s heart ached when you turned to look at him. Your eyes were blood shot. Your lips bleeding from what he knew, you bit them or picking at them. Your nails had blood underneath them from biting the nail. You were a wreck. But you were his special girl.
“Hey…” He said, swallowing. “Baby, I-what happened?”
You tried to stand but ended up sprawled on the ground. He went to help you but you jerked away, pulling yourself up.
“I’m so fucking mad right now.” You were almost yelling. But you sounded out of breath. “I-I took my meds but I’m still like this. My heart hurts, I just feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. Everything is too loud!” You weren’t crying but you were growing hysterical. You started pacing.
“Why am I like this? Why can’t I just be normal? Why do I get so upset over the smallest things?” Eddie was standing close but he didn’t reach yet. You were tugging at your shirt. He knew you were getting hot.
“I can’t deal with this. I can’t feel this way! Im so sick of feeling like I’m useless because I can’t even talk on the phone to my boyfriend because I hate how it makes me feel! You shouldn’t have to deal with me.”
“Sweetheart, will you just come here for a second?” Eddie tried to prompt.
“No!” You stopped moving and placed your hands on your chest. “Eddie. I don’t want you to see me like this. Again. Maybe you should leave. I don’t want to keep freaking you out.”
Eddie moved then. And he gently grasped your elbows and looked down. Eye contact was difficult for you and he never wanted to force it. But he tilted your chin, happy if you just looked at his forehead. “Princess. I’m not leaving you. I would never.” He leaned forward, rubbing his nose against yours. “I’m just happy you didn’t break your hand.” He pulled away, glad you weren’t moving away. “You’re burning up. Let’s get to the couch, it’s too warm in here.”
Eddie wrapped his arm around your waist, helping you walk around the mess and he sat you down on the couch. “I’ll be right back, babe.” You grabbed his hand. “I promise.” He smiled at you. You slowly let go.
He tried not to show his panic as he looked for the first aid kit. Eddie came back to the living room, kneeling in front of you. “Let me see that hand.” He asked, pulling it towards him. It was shaking. He was careful, dabbing it with saline and you winced. “I’m sorry, baby.” Eddie went through the motions, remembering how to wrap an injured hand from his own share of punching walls.
After the bandage was around your hand, he pressed a kiss on top. He maneuvered his way up and sat beside you. Eddie held your leg that was bouncing. “Babe…I know for a while things have been really hard for you. And seeing all that today, I see you’re in a lot of pain. And I just want to help you. I love you so much. You know that right?” You covered your face with your hands.
“Eddie, you shouldn’t. I feel like I don’t have enough good days. I’m so tired of always telling you how bad my day was, or that I want to have a meltdown about fucking textures or sounds. I just wish I could be normal for you.” Eddie shook his head, taking your hands down.
“Hey. Hey. I would never trade you for anything. I would never want anyone other than you. The only thing I wish I could change, is how you feel about yourself. Baby, you are so much more than what you struggle with. You’re kind, funny, like so funny I almost snort and I can’t even breathe. You understand me, you are so caring and you let me be annoying when I smoke too much weed. I could go on for days.” You lifted your head. And looked at him. And held eye contact.
“You’re more than bad days, baby. I love you so much. And I know you were listening to our song, right? The one I told you to play when things get bad?” You nodded. Smiling a little. Eddie feigned shock.
“Is that-is that a smile? That’s my girl.” It widened and he grinned, cupping your cheeks.
“Come on. Sing one line with me. And then, I’m gonna go pick up the bedroom. I’m going to make you something to eat and then we’re going to watch your favorite movies.”
“Do I have to sing?” You complained.
“Sorry, baby. Those are the rules.” Eddie winked, still holding tight to your face.
“And I don’t want the world to see me, cuz I don’t think that they’d understand.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips softly to yours. Gently because of the picked apart flesh.
“I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and squeezed tightly. Eddie followed suit and hugged you around the waist.
“I love you so much, Eddie.”
Eddie breathed you in. It wouldn’t fix what you felt. But you wouldn’t have to battle anything alone.
Tagging. @xxhellfirebunnyxx @reidsbtch @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @monstxrteeth @battymunson @scene-and-dandylover @lithium80sblog @elaine-in-the-membrane
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socheckitout-mikey · 1 year
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do u think u could do something where johnny and the reader aren't officially dating or anything but she keeps stealing and wearing his clothes, and the gang starts teasing them for it, which eventually leads to him actually asking her out? i'm sorry if this is too much or anything but thank you so much!!
ahhh this is so cute! idk how i missed this one. my apologies for taking so long writing it out. it came out waaay longer than i anticipated, but i hope you enjoy what i came up with. (': <33 - mae
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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Title: The Shirt Thief
Pairing: Johnny Cade x reader
Summary: A cold night with Johnny Cade in the vacant lot brings you an unusual sense of warmth in the form of his denim jacket. What starts off with said jacket, causes you to end up with multiple articles of Johnny's clothes. It all seems harmless until the gang starts digging their noses into Johnny's business. Are you guys friends or are you more than that?
Word Count: 9,472
Disclaimer: THIS IS EDITED! I fixed the spelling mistakes and some of the grammatical errors. I also added a few new things to it, mainly in dialogue. I hope you like it though! :)
Warnings: Mentions of abuse in Johnny's home (with his parents), animals hunting and fighting, Soc's bullying the reader - vice versa, almost attempted assault, the gang coming to the rescue, rough housing with the gang (banter mainly) and a whole lot of sass! Johnny is somewhat ooc here because he's more talkative and sassy, but it's just how the piece came along! Let me know if I forgot anything else.
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  The story of our pesky shirt thief begins in the vacant lot under the sparkling night sky. This night was a relatively clear one in the cusp of autumn’s frost. The full moon was ample, a stunning silver glow that hypnotically danced, shrouded slightly from the wispy clouds sent onward by the chilly fall wind. Amber, golden and burnt brick red crumpled leaves tumbled noisily across the sandy dirt in a mini whirlwind. A toasty fire was being nurtured timidly upon the outskirts of this deserted place, courtesy of Johnny Cade. Underneath the jagged canopy of an almost bare tree, losing its wrinkled leaves, our greasy raven haired boy’s fingers quivered around the spindly stick in his hand. Gave an experimental poke to the half snapped branch swarmed by the smouldering, orange flames. He did not shiver from the cold, but from rampant nerves that pertained to someone he was particularly fond of being there beside him. That person being you.
  In a gloomy haze, stretched over sixteen years, the dependent vacant lot with all of its decaying junk left to rot had become his home away from home. It was somewhere he could come to in order to escape the harshness he had just down the street, riddled with its cluttered and intense violence. The one he had with his parents – if he could ever really call them that – had never been consumed with even an inkling of love or nurturing. It practically rotted away from the inside out with its creaky floorboards, dust riddled insides and the damp lining the walls like a thick winter scarf. A location where he was destined to be neglected in, for the only attention he obtained was to be hollered at by his mother when she was hacked off at whatever or whoever it was that particular time: Whereas his father brandished anything he could in hand to pelt him with. The thought made Johnny shudder, a sick nauseous feeling welling up inside of him. Slimy and cold.
  However, not all was lost. There had been some silver linings in teaching him things such as love, loyalty and camaraderie: His gang of reliable buddies that would stretch to the ends of the Earth for him were the culprits. Although they had nothing too, they gave him everything he’d been missing. Well, almost everything. They were the sole reason he had not run away about a million times by now. They grounded him, created a net of safety and support that he never would have experienced otherwise if he had not been born in this very downtrodden neighbourhood. Yet they could not save him from everything – a harsh reality he came face to face with daily. Nothing and no one could ever replace the lacking love of his parents.
  Nevertheless, the youthful greaser that looked as if he were a puppy that had been kicked one too many times had grown used to bumming around most nights on the busted leather car seat left to waste away in the lot. A frequent bed he now sat upon to gaze up at the glittering stars in the midnight haze of the dark sky. He pondered to himself, watching it while his most favourite person in the world sat off to his right. The silence between you both wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Just off experiencing your own inner worlds whilst you enjoyed the other’s presence. Johnny wasn’t much of a talker as is. You understood the chips he had on the table and didn’t mind in the slightest, but you had your ways of getting him talking.
  Despite the fact that he had a warmer and much more benevolent destination to crash at nightly: The Curtis House. He felt an immense pang of guilt and shame engulf him entirely at the thought of taking up that space. This house did not consume the same dreamy and abundant riches that one would desire at the core. Instead those fantasies were only destined for reality on the Wicked West Side of Tulsa, Oklahoma. “The home to the rich and greedy,” as Sodapop loved to put it.
  Although the Curtis House lacked in material volume, it oozed a charm in its bare necessities and rundown appearance, with its peeling papered walls and well played piano that needed a miracle of tuning. What it lacked when it came to standardised beauty was made up for by its glowing warmth of love, companionship and acceptance of all the inhabitants that nestled under its rickety roof. It was a safe haven for anyone needing a place to lay low to avoid getting into trouble that could be avoided; a.k.a trouble with the law. Dallas and Steve were also regular inhabitants of the well loved couch perched up against the wall by the front door of the home: A product of powerful tempers that needed quenching. They found solace on that old, brown cushiony hunk of junk just as Johnny did when the nights grew too cold or unbearable on his lonesome.
  Johnny stared up at Orion's Belt wondrously, remembering the time he'd heard Ponyboy rattle on about how he'd woken up to find the notorious Tim Shepard occupying his couch, reading the morning paper.
  'Now, what in the hell was someone like Tim Shepard doin' on the Curtis’ couch?' Johnny thought silently.
  Never had he bagged the likes of the eldest Shepard to reach out for a lifeline like that. It was almost unheard of, unfathomable. Tim was a handsome young man with a gnarly looking scar running from his temple to his chin. He was hard, cold and twisted. Jail, booze and all the criminal endeavours he had under his belt were like a morbid toolkit of how to be the best hoodlum out there. He looked about as capable of accepting charity as a lost soul in Hell. Then Johnny supposed that he never really knew him like Dally did. Johnny's silent disposition made it challenging for him to get close to anyone outside of his gang of buddies. Sometimes he preferred it this way, but usually he loathed it. Loneliness was easy in warping the soul of a good man.
  From what Dally had told him of Tim Shepard, it'd be an immense knock to his swelling pride to reach out for help and have everyone aware of it. Inflated prides and fragile egos didn't do wonders for people with big mouths. Hence why Johnny kept his damn trap shut about it after Pony had told him.
  'Man, he's gotta be pullin' my leg or somethin'.' He said internally before shaking his head.
  Expelling a breath, Johnny settled back into the leather seat as comfortably as possible. He swore he'd get a bad back after opting to take the lumpy side of the car bench with the springs gnawing their way through. It had been the gentlemanly thing to do after all. He was a good guy with a good heart.
  Warmth pervaded nicely from the reasonably sized fire he'd established in front of you both, but the chilly wind licked at any bare bits of skin daring to peer through tiny cracks in clothes. He hardly shivered outside of a nervous twitch. Perhaps that was only due to the fact he'd grown accustomed to the elements no matter the weather – unlike yourself.
  Instead his charcoal eyes were doe-like, shakily flickering to his right where you sat. Only then in this moment did he fully come to the present moment, understanding the cold bit at your nose, ears and fingers in a way that looked cute. Yet despite your shivering that you so desperately attempted to hide, you sat there in all of your beautiful glory with only a few inches of space between you both. A comfortability you bathed in that seemed so raw, as if you were merely sitting on your living room couch with both of your knees and feet tucked under you and just off to the side. Peace prevailed from the tender smile gracing your features. A subconscious practice, you definitely seemed to be lost in your own thoughts. Johnny stared at you, and wondered what kind of movie was flashing behind those pretty eyes to have the sun dawn across your face like that. To him, all he could see was the vacant lot – a desolate place where only hoodlums would hang in droves, drawn in by its trashy grounds.
  "You starin' cuz I got somethin' on my mug or it's just that ugly?" You grinned like a chessy cat, turning to look him directly in the eye. Thinking that being a wise cracker was funny.
  Damn you and your perceptiveness.
  Instantaneously Johnny ripped his gaze from yours, stiff as a plank. Embarrassment dashed across every cell in his body and left his lungs flat of oxygen. Man, if he thought his usual heartbeat was fast, what was happening inside of his chest right then must have been the speed of goddamn light!
  All he could do was stammer out, "U-u-uh n-n-neither!" The poor guy sounded like Porky The Pig. 
  Your eyelids fluttered in astonishment at the stuttering mess of a young man he was. So jumpy. A mouse scuttling around on sharp eggshells. Part of you would've felt proud of your handiwork if it had been anyone else, but it was Johnny, your best friend. "Awe shucks, Johnny-cake," you offered him sheepishly, "I didn't tell you to stop. I was just messin' with ya. Gotta keep you on your toes somehow."
  Messing with him? That was evident. He wasn't cross with you for pulling on his leg, just bothered by himself for getting caught out in the act. "S'okay, I g-get it." He shrugged, trying to play it cool whilst he stared into the portal to the Underworld.
  "Penny for your thoughts?" You tried again, bumping him softly with your shoulder.
  "Nothin' much," He lied smoothly, picking at the hole in his tennis shoe.
  "You sure you ain't developin' the cure for cancer or somethin'? You're pretty smart." You inquired with a cheeky beam.
  "Shoot! Do I look like I know what two plus two equals?" Johnny was getting a little bit sassy.
  "Okay okay, I get it. I'll back off." You chortled.
  'Yeah, thank goodness for that…' Johnny thought to himself. Suddenly he was uneasy with the idea of you ever discovering his little moments of staring at you because he loved the way you looked in candid moments like this one just passed. How did one go about saying these kinds of things? Johnny didn't know a lick. He was a dejected lost cause in the romance department. An awkward bump on a log. Felt he looked cruddy right about now too so he scratched the back of his head fervently for a second. No one really gave him a second glance. He was invisible and too quiet to be noticed.
  Yet he failed to realise that you noticed him.
  His forlorn expression had been obscured by his shaggy bangs that hung on his forehead. In fact, they no longer existed. You watched him struggle with something akin to wrestling a twenty foot gator inside of that skull of his. It made you feel funny on the inside, as if you were to blame. Diligently Johnny picked up the jagged stick he'd used to poke the flames with earlier. Started drawing in the dusty cold dirt at his feet. Back and forth, left and right, then round and round. A tedious therapeutic cycle.
  'Yup, he's off to the moon again.' You thought. 'I'll give him a sec to recoup. I think I made him short circuit a little too hard.' 
  Just then the bleakness of the night pressed its breathy lips against you. You shivered in response, huddling unconsciously to Johnny for his radiator heat. Part of him was shaking too. The flames jolted haphazardly. A violent twirl of dead leaves kicked up into the air before the wind relented altogether and they fluttered into the fire that engulfed them. It was a beautiful sight indeed, albeit destructive. The elements typically were unforgiving. That was the cycle of life. Mother Nature worked in wondrous ways that went beyond the mere perception of the human mind. Ever evolving and always there. It had put a smile on your face, and Johnny looked at you once more.
  "Now, you wanna give me a penny for your thoughts?" He asked.
  You slowly turned to look at him, your smile unwavering, "And cash in my trade secrets when you won't give me yours? That don't tally up to me."
  Johnny shrugged, trying to hide a ghost of a smile on his features, "You just caught me off guard that's all…"
  "Oooooh so I got the element of surprise on my side?" You wiggled your eyebrows. "Who knew I was mighty smooth!"
  Johnny rolled his charcoal eyes, shook his head with a laugh, "Don't get too big headed now," he warned.
  "Why, cuz I'll float away?" 
  "Naw," Johnny shook his head, "You sound like Two-bit."
  Your countenance fell from grace then; all of the humour drained completely, replaced with a sulk. "Now you just went and ruined it."
  Johnny laughed heartily, "I dunno why you got it against him, yn. It was only fifth grade-," 
  "Don't remind me of fifth grade! He put gum in my hair and you saw it." You warned with a finger pointed at him. “I looked like a coconut headed bum for two years, Johnny Cade! Two years I ain’t ever gonna get back.”
  "Alright, alright! Don't shoot." He mumbled with a half smirk on his face.
  "And don't laugh either. Who's side are you on anyway?" You mumbled with your arms folded over your chest.
  Johnny met his match in attempting to swallow the laughter down, "Who knew you were this much of a sore loser," with a shake of his head.
  "Sore loser my ass…" You retorted, looking off to the side like a petulant child.
  All Johnny could do was laugh.
  The sourness of your mood forced you to realise the lateness of the night. The cold showed its first signs of frost that danced mistily away from the firelight. You quivered fully this time, rubbing your nimble hands up and down your arms. "Are you cold?" Johnny finally had the courage to ask.
  "Uh-huh! But I'll be okay."
  "You know you don't have to tough it out for me, right?" Johnny said sincerely. "You shoulda brought a coat. It's November not August."
  "I forgot, mom." You mumbled wryly.
  "Man, don't call me that. It sounds strange." He pulled a face as he spoke.
  "And why not?" You demanded. 
  "Cuz you sound like T-," He began, but you cut him off.
  "Don't even think about saying that name!"
  Despite himself, Johnny was laughing something awful. A grin spread across his face akin to a mixture of pride and victory. He'd bested you in the end and even you knew it. "You asshole-," You muttered, but it all bled through into your own sense of laughter that mingled with his. 
  Then it seemed to die down, a comfortable glow encasing you both. In the midst of it you hardly realised Johnny shimmying beside you – too caught up in the afterglow. But then an uncanny warmth of freshly worn denim was draped over your shoulders. Ghosts of fingertips touched the nape of your neck as it was laid there. Your head turned to find Johnny retracting his hands shyly and passing it off without a word. The gesture touched you, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
  "Why?" Your better judgement couldn't stop the question from flying out of your mouth.
  Johnny squirmed uncomfortably under your focused stare, "I dunno…" he shrugged. "You were cold and didn't have a jacket. It was the right thing to do I guess."
  The right thing to do. It made you beam beautifully then. Johnny Cade was always doing the right thing. Well, maybe not all the time when he was with his buddies, but usually he did. A good guy with a good heart that made yours flutter at the touch. The act of giving you his most prized possession really touched you in ways that made your eyes begin to water. You needed a second to blink them back. Hoping he hadn't noticed. Luckily he hadn't. 
  You thanked him in the only way you knew how to, by leaning your head on his shoulder. He stiffened to the touch, unfamiliar with it. Johnny wasn't much of a hugger, so physical contact was reserved for special moments. He allowed it this time and you felt his body shake, unsure with what to do with himself. Your fingers wrapped around his bicep, a reassuring squeeze so light it helped him realise you weren't going to hurt him. You never could. He was too special, too gentle, but wild in his own way when he let himself out freely. Yet the person he was now, the boy that gave you his jacket and talked with you the most; that was your Johnny Cade.
  "Thank you, Johnny-cake." You whispered into the air, gently holding his hand and squeezing softly. It was sweaty.
  "D-don't mention it." He swallowed, giving you an experimental squeeze back. "It's just my jacket, softie."
  "Who you callin' softie?" You look up at him with a cocked eyebrow.
  "You."
  Silence befell you, and it was laced in a tranquil dose. Hushed whispers reverberated off of the caverns in your hearts, growing more prominent. All the giggles filled with the springy frolicking of baby lambs. Clumsy and endearing. Johnny lit a fire in you unmatched and vice versa. Young love that was mutual, but unknown to the other. You stayed with him for quite some time, until he walked you home. You'd sent him off with a wave after him shyly telling you to keep it. Made him promise not to sleep out in the cold, and Johnny kept his word. Slunk all the way to the Curtis House three hours before sunup to fortunately find it free. Rest was his, all with a smile screwed on tightly to his features.
  Many more instances of thievery occurred with your pesky little fingers and the growing feelings that possessed you like a restless spirit. Time spent with Johnny became your drug of choice, and you could not get enough of him. No funny business was happening, it was just your personalities melding well together. You brought out a sassy part to him, and surprisingly he could keep up with you. Each meeting was set in colder conditions than the last. Forcing Johnny to bring in what little reinforcements he had. You either seemed to forget a jacket or your layers weren't nearly enough. His jacket was a chameleon's skin, bouncing from his shoulders to yours. His shirts were a comforting reminder of him when he wasn't around – shields against the bleakness of winter. His grey sweatshirt was your favourite. Everything began to accumulate. 
  One day you were both coming from the tracks in the Shepard outfit where a little creek was running through another vacant lot by an old abandoned factory. The water was still frozen and the trees were barren. All sorts of junk stuck to the frosty ground. It was kind of niche-like, a quiet place that seemed abandoned when the sun shone its rays upon Tulsa. It had been an accidental find during a summer day the year before. A superb place to explore when things were warmer and less soggy. Though it was apparent that neither of you had the courage to explore the dangerous insides of the abandoned warehouse in its entirety. Anyone could be lurking there, boobietrapped the innards to protect their stashed hoards. So the pair of you stuck to the outskirts towards the vacant lot beside it.
  There you both were, sat upon a crumpled wall, admiring a winter's afternoon like a pair of Humpty Dumpty’s. The sun was bright in the sky, threatening to melt the world entirely. The first inklings of spring graced reality. The robins were chirping, hopping around in search of food nearby. Adorable feathered critters, so fluffy. They reminded Johnny of Christmas as one turned its neck beside him, curiously looking up into his black eyes. Both were inquisitive of the other.
  "He looks like you-," your half whisper broke out into the air too loudly. The disturbance made the robin jolt and fly off.
  Johnny sighed, "Man, he got so close this time. You just had to go and ruin it didn't you?"
  "I'm sorry. Was there a spiritual connection happening? How rude of me!" You gasped with a hand over your heart.
  He shook his head, grinning because he wasn't angry about it at all. "He was a cute little guy though…"
  "Hence why I said he looked like you." You clarified.
  Johnny exploded with a blush, shaking his head again, "You must've hit your head when you fell on the ice earlier."
  "My head is not any worse off than it was before, thank you very much!" You defended yourself.
  "You know, the first sign of someone tellin’ porkies is denial, right?"
  "I am not tellin’ porkies!"
  "Are too-," Johnny countered, nudging you with his elbow.
  "Am not!"
  Falling back into that effortless banter made you both grin like chessy cats. It was silly, but very much needed. You knew Johnny got extra embarrassed whenever you'd start complimenting him, especially in the looks department. You didn't say these things just to throw him off, but because you truly meant them. Johnny was cute. One of the cutest guys you'd seen in a longtime. Maybe he wasn't moviestar handsome like Sodapop, but girls were missing out when they overlooked him. He had his own things to bring to the table; loyalty, kindness, abiding the law… Just to name a few. You suddenly shook these thoughts out of your head, deciding if you went too deeply down this path that it was best not to be done in Johnny’s presence. Lest you were to blabber about it like you'd done to your other friends who'd told you to ask him out already. They just didn't understand how delicate the matter was really. Johnny wouldn't say yes anyway.
  "Hey look! Those cats are back," Johnny quietly hissed by your side, pulling you out of your daze.
  You followed his line of sight and sure enough the two male felines were there. Lithe in nature and mean looking. A skinny orange tabby trotted forward, a snaggle tooth protruding from his mouth. By his side was his black Bombay counterpart, scraggy bodied with dirty fur and a distinct chip taken from his ear. They were silent, far from their former glory days when they knew what a good home was. The Bombay was a little bigger than his cheddar companion, and it was easily understood by any human looking in that a pact had been formed between them through a necessity to survive. The pair of you had spied them before, a distrusting set that initially hissed and growled. They were all claws and teeth so you kept your distance to avoid any surprise visits to the clinic. However now they seemed to tolerate your presence, acting as if the silence you exuded exempted your existence. Johnny and you admired them, goofy grins on your faces, because the cats were ready to commit their timely crime of hunting for some grub of the day. You knew who they reminded you of.
  "Well if that ain't Dally and Tim," You consciously made the effort to whisper.
  Johnny nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I can see it."
  "Which one's which?" You asked, genuinely curious about Johnny's take.
  He was reluctant to take his eyes off the cats, watching them begin prowling forth towards an unsuspecting robin. "Huh?" he hummed, finally looking at you just as you leaned your head on his shoulder.
  "Which cat is Dally and which one is Tim? You know 'em better than I do." You pressed softly.
  "Oh, that's easy, Dally's the ginger tabby and Tim's the Bombay." He offered with a nod of his head in the felines direction.
  "What why?" You demanded it up at him.
  “Well if we’re goin’ off their looks for a start, Tim looks like the Bombay cat. Guy is a real alley cat – got a lot of street smarts and carries himself well. Besides, he's tougher than a bag of nails.” Johnny did have a point – Tim looked just like that black cat with his curly jet hair.
  Speaking of the black cat, it had entered a state of hunting, kneeling down with coiled taught muscles – just ready to pounce on that unsuspecting robin below, pecking at the seeds you and Johnny had left behind earlier. You hoped it wouldn’t be eaten, couldn’t stomach to see something so savage. However, you supposed that was only the way the circle of life worked.
  “The orange tabby’s Dally cuz of that cool look in his eyes. The way he carries himself so freely. Out of the two, the tabby’s the one that’s in charge somehow. He writes the rules that the other cat’s always tryna best.” Johnny offered with a brief shrug before continuing, “Not that the black cat is following any rules. Both have minds of their own.”
  Boy, you could really hear the way he admired Dallas Winston from the way he spoke about the orange tabby. It was wholesome. Dally was Johnny’s hero — the kid practically worshipped the ground the guy walked on. You didn’t see why. To you, Dallas Winston was a rotten hoodlum with a track record of breaking the law in every way, shape and form that he could. He frightened you like The Boogeyman had when you were nine. Where you both engaged with each other somewhat cordially, you preferred to keep your distance. You supposed that you had no room to judge after all. There was a deep friendship that had developed between him and Johnny; you’d seen it in Dally’s cold hard eyes… affection. It made you grin then, wondering if Johnny thought strangely of your heroes too.
  “And both of them are jackasses.” You countered, bumping his shoulder mischievously.
  Johnny laughed a little, looking at you for a few short moments. “Yeah alright, I’ll give you that.”
  You liked the way he’d described the two though. It was a statement that fit the pair of hoodlums in a peapod together. Yet the orange tabby did appear to be the leader as it licked its wonky chops delectably. Inched closer by the second, a silent assassin to carry out its hunter gatherer lifestyle. It was intelligent, mimicking the movement of the robin that had caught onto it. It lured the bird on a swift and winding course, swiping for it good and hard but missed. Never mind. The robin fluttered up and into the line of sight of the black cat, a moment of fear in its beady eyes. Yet just as the night-like feline swept its razors at it, the robin burst into the air and flew off in the opposite direction. It had missed its meal by a feathers length. Every other robin in the vicinity flew off instantly, leaving the two cats dumbfounded.
  In frustration, the orange tabby yowled and darted forth. Its clawed paw zipped out and popped the mouth of the black cat. The black cat hissed, stunned for a mere second before it lunged for the only comrade it had in this god forsaken world. The two tumbled together in an infuriated Halloween special of blurred fur. A gasp floated from your mouth as they rolled back and forth. A genuine cat fight unheard of. They sounded like two ghouls trying to out spook the other – alien and loud.
  Johnny couldn’t help but laugh out of nervousness. He wasn’t trying to be cruel whatsoever. Didn’t like to see animals fighting and hurting each other, but it humoured some sick part of him. “Just like Dally and Tim, huh? Buddies one minute then at each other’s throats the next.”
  “Amen to that.” You found the humour of the situation, only because it was too similar to the real life hoodlums you both knew.
  You’d seen your fair share of those guys beefing it out in the past together in The Dingo parking lot, let alone practically in your own backyard. They were a strange duo – too competitive and cut from the same cloth. They’d never find another person just like them, that was for sure.
  Just then an icy gust came throttling through the area, reminding you both that it was still winter. A tremor ran through the pair of you, and you huddled together for warmth. By now the cats had slumped off to their own corners of the lot, hissing and growling as they went. Sore egos and bodies made them sulk and mewl in the shade whilst they licked their wounds.
  “Dammit-,” your teeth chattered, moving closer to Johnny. “March my ass…”
  Johnny breathed a laugh, shaking his head. He scanned your features humorously, those bushy brows hidden by a thick blanket of his black greasy bangs that flopped onto his forehead.
  “What?” You mumbled, your fingertips unconsciously reached for him in the space between you both. Johnny didn’t notice.
  He stared at you for a good three seconds before opening his mouth to speak, “How can you be cold with all those layers you got on?”
  “Well I mean it’s obvious, it’s winter.”
  “Uh-huh-,” Johnny sassed, smirking slightly, “As if you ain’t wearin’ my shirt, my sweater and my jeans jacket too. Got the whole department store on your back.”
  Abashment took hold of you as your gaze dropped down to inspect yourself. There was Johnny’s jacket on you, and underneath his tattered grey sweater, that black t-shirt poking up above the collar. And Johnny? He was adorned in a wrinkled white shirt with a blue and creamy egg yellow flannel over the top you guessed was one of the gang’s. Worn over that was Dally’s brown leather jacket with the cosy sheepskin lining. You pouted with a bruised ego, looking off to the side, “It’s not like you’re naked or nothin’…” you murmured petulantly.
  Johnny chuckled breathily, your joined hands jostling as he tugged on it without any semblance of awareness, as if to gain your attention. “Not yet, but I’m gonna be! Man, do you know what I had to say to get this jacket from Dally?” He was teasing you.
  “Mmmppppffff…” you grunted, crossing your legs on that wall.
  “The guys are askin’ questions and I dunno what to tell ‘em any more!” His voice broke a bit before he continued, “Two thinks I’m preparin' to run down the centre of town butt naked!”
  That made you burst out into fits of giggles. The thought was so unorthodox it was hilarious. “You’re tellin’ him that’s the truth right? God, could you imagine? I can see the news articles now: Johnny Cade, Teenage Delinquent Gone Buck Wild!” You beamed, throwing your free hand out to elaborate some unseen picture.
  Johnny shook his head again, laughing with you, “Man, you’re just as bad as Soda!”
  “I’m twice as good looking too!” You offered with all the cheekiness you could muster.
  All he could offer was an entertained roll of his eyes. Your shoulders bumped together, old comrades turned into something more. His soft gaze fell onto your interwoven fingers, and his heart fluttered like dove wings. A widened gaze, then that notorious blush exploded under that tanned flesh. His mind was incapable of functioning. It was wholesome, but you read everything wrong. Made a move to release his hand and he stopped you.
  "Don't." It was the strongest word you'd heard from him as he held your hand tighter than he ever had before. Not enough to hurt you, but to let you know it was real too.
  "Y-you sure?" It was your turn to stutter.
  The look he shared with you may have been wavering to some degree, but there was certainty in those eyes. His mouth opened to speak, "Yeah, I don't mind one bit."
   I don't mind one bit. It ran round and round in your head. A starstruck expression invaded your beautiful countenance. The reassurance was a bonus that made your belly fill with a plethora of butterflies. Cloud nine had nothing on this moment.
  Johnny explored the expressions flitting across your face with a newfound sense of wonder. That pleasant delight racing through you was infectious as you stared off into the junk riddled vacant lot, your mind preoccupied with his hand in yours. The sun dawned across your features once again, like that autumn night you'd spent with him in your neighbourhood's vacant lot. The understanding that he was the source of that made his belly squirm, a giddiness overcoming him. He could no longer deny the fondness he had for you so blatantly.
  With him leaning a little closer to you, he whispered, "How about you give me at least some of my stuff back?" 
  "Mmmmm maybe,"
  "yn-," there was an uncommon sense of sternness in his voice.
  "But-," You tried objecting.
  "No buts-," he rushed out with a shake of his head, "At least give me one! I've been wearing this shirt for three days now!" He was hilariously incredulous.
  "Is that why you stink?" You taunted him.
  "Not funny-," He made his best attempt to be cross with you.
  "Okay, okay! I'll give them back." You said begrudgingly.
  "You better bring the cavalry with how much you have stolen from me, you little shirt thief."
  "In my defence, you did give them to me… But I'll have them for you next time I see you, scouts honour!" You spoke sincerely with your free hand held dramatically over your heart.
  "Uh-huh, that's what you said last time and I still didn't get 'em back." He bantered.
  "Well, that wasn't a real scout's honour." You admitted with a diffident rub to the back of your head.
  "yn-," he shook his head.
  "Hey! I'm serious this time."
  "Good…" He trailed off, his other hand beginning to play with the rings banded around your fingers absentmindedly.
  Blissfulness carried upon the wind, a promise of returning what wasn't yours already settled. Golden light broke through the clouds, catching Johnny in the face directly, which made him grimace evidently. You grew lost in his handsome physique, feeling the pad of his thumb drag up and down the back of your hand. The sensation was special, because Johnny had warmed up to you so much.
  It was a lively Saturday night, and with the determined honour of a scout member, you showed up like clockwork with a bag filled with Johnny's things. It was just as the crowds at The Nightly Double encroached upon the Tulsa streets in boisterous droves. Everyone was high on the giddy delight of the movie they had just watched – the late night viewing of two specials before the drive-in closed its doors for the night. Previous arrangements with another friend had you missing out on the fun, but here you were wearing your very own leather jacket with Johnny's denim one bunched up nervously in the palms of your hands. Speaking of Johnny, he had tagged along with the gang – minus Darry, because movies seemed to bore the older man to death.
  A pair of scrawny looking Socy guys stalked out of the front doors, acting like big shots, cutting in front of a dark green Corvair on its way out and into the oncoming traffic. The driver of the same social class hung out of the driver's window whilst his girl attempted to pull him back in.
  "Hey watch it, wise guys! If you're lookin' to get your asses run over, then be my guests and step back in my line of sight!" He snarled aggressively before his girlfriend won the battle and pulled him back inside to tell him to "knock it off".
  A line began to form behind them as the couple argued incessantly, presumably over the guy's foul temper. Car horns honked on the spring breeze, forcing the guy to nervously step on the gas. They almost crashed into a Chevy Impala before zipping off home. You could see the animated scowl of the girl refusing to talk to her boyfriend in the side view mirror as they retreated. She glowered at you as if you were the scum of the earth. It didn't make you feel too hot.
  The two wisecracking Soc's cackled at their attempts at being hard, stalking forth when they caught sight of your lonesome form. Vile cackles were shot your way as they walked past you before deciding the better option was to encircle you like a couple of hammerhead sharks.
  'Boy, these dingbats don't know what tree they're barking up.' You thought, stiffening your body up for any form of unexpected physical contact. You weren't gonna let yourself get blown over that easy. 
  "What's up, greaser? You lookin' to bum around on our streets?" The six foot tall pencil with the sour breath sneered down at you, bumping your shoulder, making a come around to your left. When he disappeared behind you, the other one with chestnut hair the texture of straw invaded your face.
  "Yeah, who said you were allowed round these parts anyway?" He jeered, smacking his gum obnoxiously.
  Typically these dorks wouldn't have been graced with so much of your attention, but being on your own with a whole sea of onlookers made you weary. However you sure didn't show it. No one was there to stand up for you so you had to do it yourself. All you could do was raise your eyebrows, feeling the burning sense of humiliation rise from the pits of hell beneath your feet. It felt toasty, but the wrong kind. A glower of pure vexation was sent up their way. 'Who are these cocky jackasses, anyway? I've got the same right to use these streets like anyone else!' You contemplated.
  "Oh really? I never knew white trash chequerboards like yourselves owned the streets everybody walks on." Your lips flapped wryly before you could even say a word.
  The entertained gazes of onlookers of every social class stopped to stare. Murmurs of speculation broke out: Two against one didn't typically seem like a fair fight, but with the sheer scrawniness of the socially elite, it seemed to look like the chips fell in your favour. Though you knew appearances could be deceiving, harbouring a surprising sense of physical strength.
  In a rift of the crowd, six pairs of familiar eyes honed in on your shining moment of unprovoked confrontation.
  "White trash chequerboards?!" The pencil growled out, sharing a glance with his straw haired counterpart. For the most part they were dumbfounded, not having expected you to stand up for yourself.
  "If anyone's white trash, it's you, greaseball." The second one jutted his finger in your face.
  Nothing about your countenance betrayed you. Cold and detached you stared at that finger in your face with a deep sense of boredom. Then an almost smug smirk etched your features as you stared up into his grey eyes.
  "Oh my, my!" A dripping sense of mocking venom entered your tone. "Seems like I got more class than that finger you got pointed at me. Seriously, you got a licence to be armed with carryin' that thing? You better watch what you do with it before it falls into the wrong hands. You know, because with great power comes great responsibility and all." You were armed with so much sass it made you invincible.
  The crowd surrounding you burst into a fit of laughter so potent that it burnt these punks into a startled pile of ash. The pair of Soc's were so vapid that they were a bore even to themselves, which is why they were acting out as if they were five times their sizes. You were lively, armed with a silver tongue that could slice just about anyone to pieces who tried to humiliate you.
  "Oh yeah, you little punk?" The first one growled, invading all sense of your personal space.
  You took one step back, your eyebrows raised, "It's his responsibility, not mine. Whatch'yu gettin' all riled up for, eh? Can't take a joke, Mister Funny?"
  "I'll show you a joke when I knock your two front teeth out." He barked.
  Oooh's and aaah's broke through the crowd on a symphony of guffawing. You cocked one eyebrow up at him, a cockiness overcoming you. What could you do otherwise? If no one had your back, you had to have your own. That was just the way the cookie crumbled when you were a greaser – if there was a cookie at all.
  "Oooooh~ Don't threaten me with a good time, pencil dick." You snorted. "I will bend your ass like a goddamn pretzel before you can even have a chance to beg for your mommy to save you."
  The two guys shared a look, the degradation burning their senses of pride to withering embers. Their faces were pinkened beyond recognition, boarding on a fiery red. Your insults only poured gasoline on the fires. They couldn't back out now with the engrossed mass around the three of you. Your body stiffened as they went to grab you, preparing yourself for a fight that would no doubt cause the fuzz to come shutting it down. The image of yourself being cuffed in the back of a cop car had you overcome with a sense of terror. You weren't made for jail with your sharp tongue and sass. Wouldn't last two seconds flat in a grim place like that.
  Before any contact could occur, a boisterous New York accent throttled into the air, a familiar arm slinking over your shoulders, "Hey Dumb and Dumber, you really wanna go gettin' your asses handed to you by a girl in front of all of these people?" Dallas was snickering with a smoke hanging out of his mouth, leaning against you smoothly as he patted your upper arm, but he wasn't your only saviour.
  The other five lean and hard looking members of the Curtis gang had rolled up in all of their greasy headed glory. Pony and Johnny were Dally's flanks whilst Sodapop and Steve jammed themselves on either side of the pathetic turkeys that had bothered you. Two-bit prowled like a cat, that smug, wild grin carved onto his handsome features. The oldest of the six came in the centre of the perpetrators, an arm slung on each of their shoulders. It was overly friendly, even for Two.
  "Well, well, well, if it ain't the socially elite barking up a tree they didn't know was a mountain! I'd get your eyes checked if I were you." He laughed, squeezing them together under his impressive arms. The others joined in.
  "I think it's time these tuff lookin' sons of bitches got in the ring with the big shots." Steve yipped sarcastically, clapping the straw haired guy on the back a little too roughly.
  "Lookin' like a bunch of heavyweight champs, am I right?" Soda leered, his once kind blue eyes filled with a mischievous malice.
  The two Soc's looked at each other, realising they'd made a mistake in targeting you. "We don't want any trouble." The first one said, fumbling.
  "Yeah! We was only just jokin' around." The other made a pitiful attempt at joining in on the laughter.
  "Oh really now?" Dally quipped through dragon's breath, plucking his smoke from his lips and wiping the back of his index finger under his nose like he was annoyed. "I call bullshit, beanpole. Ain't that right, Johnny?" Dally asked Johnny, motioning towards him.
  With a black gaze as cold as obsidian, Johnny nodded his head, "Sure thing, Dally." He refused to take his gaze off of the perpetrators who recognised that hoodlum's menacing name anywhere.
  "Pony?" Dally turned, looking over your head at the fourteen year old greaser with the greyish green eyes. He put that smoke back in between his lips and inhaled sharply.
  "Yup!" Pony popped the 'p' at the end of the word.
  "Great, it's settled!" Dally exclaimed, pulling his arm from over your shoulders and rubbing his hands together like a fly with an evil plan. He stepped forward, his face a mere couple of inches from theirs. "You dumbasses get to go toe to toe with me for fucking with the wrong person, and then my buddies will have what's left of you. How do you like the sound of that?" 
  The way Dally seethed it even had you shaking in your boots. There was almost a sense of honour riding on your guts. It wasn't everyday that Dallas Winston was standing up for you, but when it happened you took it willingly. The two guys had become pale ghosts, shuddering with sweat dewing their foreheads. Dally meant those words, but it seemed he was mainly toying with them. So were the rest of the gang too. With matching Cheshire grins plastered on their faces they watched as the two shoved past Soda, tripping over the boot Johnny had stuck out and shot in through an opening in the crowd to salvation. Sent to faceplant on the ground with a series of laughter as the drama seemed to be over for the most part and people lost interest.
  "Where are you goin'? Wait until we set her on ya!" Sodapop called, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulders. 
  "Yeah, she may seem like she’s all bark, but she's got one hell of a bite!" Steve cackled.
  Lost in an ocean of chaos, Johnny's inquiry of concern for you slithered back down his throat. He bled into the background, admiring the way your eyes rolled as the wisecracking descended upon you.
  "The hell was that, kid?" Dally said between inhaling his smoke. Rubbing the top of your head with his ringed fingers awarded him with a generous shove from you. His treatment hurt, but he was happy to see you, which was unusual.
  "Get offa me-," You grunted and he eventually relented.
  Before Steve could chime in about you being a smart ass or wandering around on your lonesome, your most dreaded member of the gang came blundering on over. A half drunken stupor holding him up by some invisible string, "Haha! Where did you learn to talk like that? Dare I say you got some inspiration from somebody in particular?" He waggled his eyebrows at you.
  "Oh, well ain't those the biggest words you’ve ever said! Ugh, don’t make me sick, two cents." You bit at him.
  "Eh, at least I'm worth somethin' in this world." He chuckled, clapping your shoulder.
  "That was meant to be an insult." You retorted.
  "Really? That's a whole compliment and a half!" He exclaimed with his arms thrown up.
  "Yeah yn, I sure can hear the church bells ringin' right now!" Soda grinned at you, cupping his free hand over his ear. In fact, to seal the deal he wrapped his arm around your shoulders as the seven of you began walking to your neighbourhood.
  Steve came up on the other side, walking the tight line of the curb, "From haters to lovers!" He beamed, spreading his palms out in the open space before you like he was presenting a far away picture. "It all started when you were in fifth grade and he was in sixth, gum to the hair, a pop to the mouth and the rest was history!"
  Johnny listened and observed, laughing halfheartedly along with his buddies. Something about Soda's and Steve's words tugged on his heartstrings in a plucking fashion. It was uncomfortable and didn't sit right with him. Yet he couldn't be too mopey about it, it wasn't like anybody knew his growing feelings for you. By now there was a confusion in your friendship, as if all these special moments you'd experienced together had evolved the friendship into something else. He was afraid of what that meant. Things would never be the same ever again, and he found himself eyeing up the bag full of his clothes on your shoulder and his jeans jacket wadded into your hand.
  Well, at least your promise had been genuine this time.
  If you weren't riled up before you were now. A sucker punch to the gut was minutely dodged by Steve, who hopped to safety behind Dallas like a kangaroo. Being surrounded by people you knew was nice as the mood settled somewhat. Johnny found his natural place to the left of you, keeping in time with your easy pace.
  Sodapop raised his eyebrows and asked the question everyone had been wondering, "Hey yn, what were you doing there all alone?"
  "Ain't that Steve's line?" You quipped.
  “Gettin’ to be more and more like Ponyboy everyday, yn!” Steve warned, messing up Pony’s hair for comedic relief.
  Pony was certainly not pleased, pulling his comb out of his back pocket and using the sideview mirror of a car to fix his hair in the dark. “Stupid Steve…” grumbled past his lips.
  “What was that?” Steve barked next to Soda.
  “Nothin’, said I looked stupid…” He lied with burnt cheeks and ears to match.
  "That's what I thought, little guy." Steve stared at him.
  Once the commotion had somewhat settled Dally eyed you up and spoke through his smoke, “Soda’s got a point. What were you doing there?” He noticed that bag over your shoulder and whistled, “Did your goody two shoes ass get kicked out or are you just droppin’ by to bid your farewells on us common folk before you skip town?”
  Put on the spot, you hesitated for a second, “Uh, I just came to see Johnny.”
  “With the entire mall's inventory?” Two grinned wickedly, pressing for more information. "Johnny's become quite the charity case lately." He teased, noogying Johnny playfully who shrugged him off with a small laugh.
  “Hey wait a sec, isn't that Johnny’s jeans jacket?” Pony spoke up once his precious hair had been rearranged.
  Dallas’s pesky fingers swiped the jacket in your hands with a mind of his own – and like a chimp, he examined its authentication closely. The five other members gathered around him as if he held the fifth wonder, which left you and Johnny with the liberation of simultaneously backing up at the edges of the throng. “You wanna make a break for it?” You hissed your suggestion at Johnny, who nodded his head.
  That’s when five heads whipped up with dumbfounded expressions. This was Johnny’s jacket! The one he said he’d lost. Soda’s eyes were the first to eye up that bag strapped to your shoulder, a familiar grey sweater poking out through the zipper that wouldn't close properly. “Hold on one stinkin’ minute.” Realisation hit him with a dopey grin.
  Two caught on next, his hand grasping the bag strap and pulling it from your shoulder. In the same motion he’d freed the grey sweater from the confines, only to find more clothes underneath. “Haha!” He cackled noisily, “You’re the one who’s been swiping his clothes? You sly fox!”
  “Johnny and yn sitting in a tree-,” Steve cackled, only to get cut off by Dally who smacked him in the chest.
  “What are you man, four?”
  “Four?! I’ll show you four!”
  “Oh glory-,” You mumbled, looking at Johnny, “I think I made a mistake.”
  “You think?” He hissed, his tone was somewhat biting, looking scared stiff for the incoming of terrible teasing.
  "Johnny's got a girlfriend! Johnny's got a girlfriend!" Soda and Two started chanting, patting and shaking their pal with enthusiasm. It wasn't long before the other three started in on it too. The chant of the year belted out from strong chests on shrill wails of hyena laughter.
  "Check him out, famous ladies man! I knew you had it in ya Johnny." Dally clapped his back.
  "Should've known you were stealing my girl, Johnny." Two teased. "You can have her the first five days of the week, but I call dibs on weekends! That's when she gets extra sassy."
  "In your dreams, two shits." You barked.
  "I dream of sixth grade every night!" Two swooned, making you laugh.
  Johnny was as red as a beet, even Ponyboy couldn’t contain his laughter. 'Boy, do we have something to tell Darry!' Pony's and Soda's eyes gleamed dazzlingly.
  "Eh, guess you won't be needing this!" Dally grinned from behind you both, softly tugging on his leather jacket Johnny was wearing. In one fell swoop it was off of his shoulders and draped over Dally’s humble forearm.
  “Here you go, young sire!” Sodapop bowed with a roll of his hand, an English accent flawlessly executed.
   In came Steve on one knee, holding up the humble denim article he'd swiped from Dally's pesky digits. “Oh Johnny, with all of my love for you, will you take this humble offer?” he exclaimed dramatically.
  Johnny snatched the jacket from Steve’s gripey hands, along with the bag of his shirts you’d brought along from Two-bit. He was embarrassed, that was evident. Wished you’d done this at a different time, but hey, duty called; a promise was a promise. Scout’s honour, right?
  Without even thinking he grabbed your hand in his, reeling you away from the madness, all sassy. “Alright, that’s enough now!”
  A chorus of wolf whistles expelled into the air. Wildness evident in the five guys who'd grown up with the both of you. They were just playing of course, excited that Johnny finally had a lady in hand. It wasn't often the raven haired greaser picked someone up, let alone initiated any physical contact – romantically of course. Johnny had always been quite reserved, but here he was taking the initiative, pulling you around in the opposite direction of them. Surprisingly assertive despite him shaking like a goddamn ghost.
  You guys got maybe a few feet away when Dallas called out on the wind, “Hey yn, you better not be takin’ off the clothes on Johnny's body or he’ll be arrested for public indecency!”
  "I said that's enough!" Johnny called back, heat vivid on his cheeks.
  With that you both escaped around the next corner, the gang's calls and laughter fading into the background. Dipped into an alleyway to lose them for good. Glory knew they'd follow you both, and Johnny couldn't bear the thought of that. There was exhilaration in your chests. Johnny's hand was hot and sweaty in yours when you wound onto Pickett and Sutton. The air felt tight and you were afraid you'd just made an inconsolable mess of everything.
  “Honest to God Johnny, that wasn’t planned-,”
  He was sour, scrunching up his face, “Shoulda just let you keep these things.” He said with a smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. “They looked better on you anyway.”
  “Johnny Cade,” you gasped, stopping in the middle of the street, the yellow light from above illuminating you both, “was that you flirting with me?”
  Albeit clumsy, he was endearing. “Maybe, I dunno.” His cheesy grin warmed your heart.
  All you could do was gawk at him.
  “Look, all I know is that I kinda don’t mind you stealing my crap, okay?”
  “So I have special authority to steal? What is this, a secret mission for your girlfriend?” You grasped onto his arm, leaning into him.
  Girlfriend settled in the air in a peculiar fashion. It had never been uttered before, you both had just been friends up until this point. The confusion between you both seemed to fizzle away. The term sounded right. Johnny didn't want to be your friend any more, the guy on the sidelines dreaming of being with you. He swallowed thickly, looking at you.
  "I'm sorry I-," he cut you short.
  "Nah don't be." He shook his head softly.
  "So uh," you breathed a laugh, "that means we're like dating? " You tested the word on your tongue.
  He exploded with a blush, and a sense of pride swelled in your heart. "Y-yeah-," he nodded softly.
  It went quiet, but nothing was awkward about it. Two hearts galloped like wild horses through summer filled fields. You found the courage to speak first, whispering mischievously into his ear, "So what about that secret mission?"
  Johnny rolled his eyes, but breathy humour expelled from his lips, “Operation Shirt Thief!” He said in his best movie man trailer voice.
  You burst out in a fit of giggles, the walk home feeling bountiful and warm.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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slash-me-please · 1 year
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can I request you an alpha!thomas x omega!reader?♡
Omfg i wrote something!?
Volunteer Work
For a moment you had thought of going back home. The cold breeze during such a dead night had kept you on your toes, looking over your shoulder- looking for something. The walk to the Hewitts was just as dead as the night, nothing but old roads guiding you to their dilapidated mansion- you should've told your folks no, having been offered up as some kind of half-hearted help, as they couldn't find it in them themselves.
It all started when you and your mother stopped by an old gas station near your home, and she handed you a few crumbled dollars and told you to give it to Miss Luda-Mae at the counter. "Just take whatever she'll give you, we need to get home soon." She spoke to you, waving you away and out of the passengers seat. You stumbled out of the car, shutting the door behind you with an attitude your mother would ignore. With that you walked yourself over the dirt pathway, lifting your sundress slightly and ignoring the lingering looks from a gang of bikers. Then when you opened the door, it should've rang, but it seemed the bell had broke between now and the last time you had been here.
You released a sigh of disappointment when at least three of those bikers had been in line already, Luda-Mae arguing with one of them about the price of gas- although this had to be the only gas station in town, so there were no ongoing rates. The two of them ran about for a bit, before the man gave up and the line moved after what felt like five minutes. As expected, the door opened once more for your mother, a scowl on her face as it seemed you took too long. She walked over to you, as soon as it was your turn to talk to Miss Hewitt, and she huffed at you with an annoyed glance.
"Hi Miss Luda, how are you doing today?" You smiled, flattening out a five dollar bill against the ridge of the counter as you conversed. "Busy day, these bikers were raised with no respect. Makes 'em harder to deal with- insults to their mamas." She responds, looking over her glasses at you. "I completely understand, this one here always has something to say. This- that- my momma woulda' hit me." Your mother interjects, snatching the money out of your hands to give to Luda. "We ain't got much, just seven dollars on... One? Yeah, One." Luda nodded. "Thomas is like that now, he's getting older and-" her voice lowers, "All them ruts alone are getting to him." Your mom shakes her head in understanding, her eyes shifting to you and you laugh- pushing her away. "Actually, Y/N, if you're interested, he just built this little dresser for his room- and he's talkin' about painting it but he ain't patient enough to paint the darn thing. I think he would appreciate if you helped him out some time soon." She continues, looking over to your mother. "Of course she can! She'll be over tonight, ain't got nothing else to do."
And that's why you're walking over to the Hewitts after dark, speed-walking down the side of the road. After a while you reached their home and familiar smells welcomed you. Luda-Mae always smelled of cigarettes, She was a respectable beta woman, living with a shifty beta man. You'd only met Charlie a few times, he'd wink at you then and there, he smelt of rotting wood. There was something off about that man. Then there was-
"Thomas! I didn't see you there," You yelped, stumbling back a few steps as he emerged from behind a tree, axe in his hand, previously doing lawn work- probably. His eyes moved down your body, admiring your sundress, only to nod at you. "Your mother said you needed some help painting your dresser?" He nodded again, dropping the axe at his side and beginning to walk towards his house. When he makes it up the stairs and you don't follow, he turns to you and gestures up to the door- as if to say "let's go."
You follow him through his house and into his room, the white paint and brushes on the floor catching your attention. He looks almost ashamed of the outcome, strokes of paint coming from every direction and some of them hitting the wall- you release a breathy laugh. "I can fix it, don't worry." You tell him, but he still looks disappointed. "I wish I could build like you, must be a good quality- yknow- for the omegas 'round here." He shakes his head no immediately, watching as you sink to your knees and begin to brush the paint against the rough wood. "C'mon, last week I saw you talkin' to one of those bikers that are always hangin' out with Luda. She had those bright eyes and enthusiastic too- that's all an alpha could want." He shakes his head no again, this time seemingly annoyed and you drop the subject.
For a moment you two sit in peace, and even though the paint is strong his scent seeps into your skin, leaving you practically dizzy. You realize you shouldn't have done this in his room of all places as the heat builds and starts to soak your underwear. He practically tastes it too, and he rests his head back against the wall, hands balled into fists. "You like it?" You ask, setting the paintbrush down on the floor. His head snaps up, eyes wide until he realizes you're talking about the dresser and he nods. "Im only half done, but I'm tired, I'll finish it for you tomorrow?" And he agrees, walking over to help you off the floor.
When he grabs you, your head spins and you inhale more of his thick smell unintentionally. It makes you whimper in the heat of the moment and his eyes narrow at you. "Sorry- my knees are hurting." You stutter, pushing your hair away from your face. "Can you bring that outside? It's getting kinda congested in here." He nods again, and you're not sure he's even listening to you as you begin to say your goodbyes.
"I gotta get going but maybe I'll be back to finish this tomorrow?" And he nods once more, his arms opening a bit to invite you into a hug- one that you took eagerly. Thomas' arms immediately wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest, keeping your face pressed against his scent gland. And he held you there. Your self control was not apparent today, legs squeezing and rubbing together immediately. He stumbled forwards, trapping you against the wall and adjusting his arms around your waist so he could place a kiss against your bare shoulder. You buried your face further into his neck, a low whine on your tongue as you began to lick at the thin skin on his throat. "Alpha?" You purred. His fingers twitched against your back in a display of unwanted self control, one that had your omega whining once more.
His throat rumbled, he was pleased at your reactions- a heat spreading through you that he smelled and wanted. Thomas lifted you up, his strong arms carrying you over to his bed, just to lay you down in his heap of pillows. His sheets smelled of him- sweat, caramel and power, it make you keen. As you basked in his scent, he made his way with your clothes. Yanking down your sundress, he gifted unspoken praises to your body as he noted the lack of a bra. His hands made quick work of you, calloused hands rubbing against the soft, thinner skin of your nipples with an admiration your last lovers hadn't given you.
His scent had gotten stronger by the minute, seeping into your body and melting your brain into a puddle of mush. You couldn't help yourself but to pull the edge of your sundress up, exposing yourself to his greedy eyes. His grunts of approval music to your ears, even moreso when you pulled his unoccupied hand to your drooling pussy. He held a sharp breath within, dipping a finger into the heated hole he'd soon bury his knot inside. His left hand moved from your nipples to your throat, holding you down as his right began to thrust in and out of you, thumb rolling over your throbbing clit. "T-Thomas!" You moaned, wrapping your smaller hands around his forearm, leaving it covered in thin scratches- none deep enough to scar. His fingering began quicker, pulling you to a high end before you wanted- but your begging for his knot convinced him not. "Alpha! Please god!" Grinding against his hand, that would eventually have your end. With a loud whine, you came on his fingers, and he retracted. His mouth immediately moved to his belt, undoing the clasps and pulling his cock out and pulling your recovering body to the edge of his bed.
Pressing a kiss to your sweating forehead, he entered you fully. And soon he began to thrust inside of you, your walls singing happily, head craned to the side presenting an unmarked throat to him. Which he'd take your offer, listening to you worship his title as his canines punctured the vent of your skin, mark fresh and bleeding. Your arms wrapped around Thomas' chest as his thrusting sped up and you heard whispers of "Omega," under his breath as he filled you with his seed as you finished underneath him. He began to slow, but didn't stop there until you released a sleepy whine into his chest, eyes closing with a rumbling purr.
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leclerc-s · 2 months
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the end of an era
series masterlist
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liked by dulceperez, schecoperez, maxjonesverstappen1 and others
isabellaperez talk about a post i never thought i would be making anytime soon. after much consideration, many tears (mostly on my part), i've decided that my time with red bull is over. i am grateful for all the opportunities red bull has given me but it's time to move on to bigger things. red bull will always be my family, no matter where i go next. to the orange army, thank you for enjoying my commentary and jokes as one of your many admins. fret not mis amigos, this is not the last you'll hear from me. i'll be back and better than ever!
tagged: redbullracing
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pierregasly DID YOU GET FIRED OR SOMETHING? WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?
schecoperez vas a hacer cosas grandes isabella!
↳ isabellaperez gracias tio checo!
alex_albon did you get fired or something? what happened to i'm not leaving until max retires?
maejonesverstappen sad to see you go!
↳ isabellaperez i'll still be around!
nataliaruiz what the fuck??
carlossainz55 you're leaving red bull?
georgerussell63 what the hell is happening right now?
rhysjones what on earth is going on in the house of commons?
dulceperez okay, even i'm confused??
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honey badger YOU'RE LEAVING?
duckling no? super max SHE’S A BIG FAT FUCKING LIAR! SHE’S LEAVING ME BEHIND!
paddock dad fred offered you a job at ferrari didn’t he?
duckling social media manager and an engineering internship super max YOU ALREADY HAD THAT HERE WITH ADRIAN! duckling i was adrian’s errand girl at best. i learned things, but i want hands on max!
duckling and i was just one of many admins at red bull. i get to be manager now!
honey badger i can’t believe fred got you + red bull engineers + lewis at ferrari
duckling he’s bald because he’s so big brained. duckling do not tell him i said that! i cannot be getting fired when i just got my dream job.
paddock dad and you told everyone at red bull where you were going?
duckling not necessarily. i only told them i got a different job
super max she only told me, mae, and checo
super max she's a coward like that!
duckling besides, it was for the best. christian was scared i was going to go start spilling company secrets to mclaren/oscar. not that i would ever do that! and i talked to fred before i got the job, he trust me to not tell mclaren/oscar anything.
paddock dad christian didn't trust you? duckling he's a little paranoid like that. duckling also, red bull's full of memories of when i was with austin. i loved the environment there but sometimes it just gets too much. super max why did you never say anything? duckling because i can handle my own problems, and going to therapy helps.
honey badger on the brightside, at least she'll be at the paddock every weekend.
honey badger and i bet she's thrilled to work at ferrari, arthur and ollie are there + nat, charles, and penny. duckling well, penny only for this season.
super max hey, seb?
paddock dad i don't know why lewis left mercedes for ferrari. i'm not coming back to racing. if i did know, i wouldn't tell anyone because that's for lewis to tell. duckling give me a year and i'll find out! super max we're counting on you!
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liked by charles_leclerc, nataliaruiz, zoyatorres and others
isabellaperez to quote the great sebastian vettel, "everybody's a ferrari fan."
user has restricted comments
arthur_leclerc ISABELLA WHAT DOES THIS MEAN!
olliebearman welcome to the dark side??
oscarpiastri does this mean what i think it means??
zoyatorres i'm so confused, what on earth is happening?
↳ logansargeant you're confused? i'm fucking confused
↳ landonorris we're all fucking confused! what is happening
baileywinters hello? what does this mean?
penelopetrevino ANSWER YOUR TEXTS!!
maxjonesverstappen1 i don't want to see this shit.
↳ maejonesverstappen don't be a party pooper!
rowantodd does anyone know what's happening?
lewishamilton what is going on?
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penelope trevino ISABELLA MARIA PEREZ!! WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON???
rowan todd WHAT'S HAPPENING?
george russell YOU'RE LEAVING RED BULL??
max verstappen she doesn't have a middle name?
alex albon WHAT HAPPENED TO STAYING WITH RED BULL UNTIL MAX RETIRED??
oscar piastri is this about the thing?
daniel jones-ricciardo if this is about what you think it is, then yes? oscar piastri i didn't know she had accepted it!
lando norris WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING? SOMEONE ANSWER US!
daphne jones-ricciardo you're going to ferrari aren't you?
isabella perez YEAH BABY! SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGER AND AN ENGINEERING INTERNSHIP
zoya torres i thought you had engineering under newey?
isabella perez being an errand girl is not what i wanted zo! it's actual helping with the engineers! adrian didn't like that i was too jittery from all the coffee and red bull i drank. isabella perez i just asked him.
arthur leclerc LET'S GO!
ollie bearman i have to see you more than i already do?
rhys jones HOW DO I GET A JOB AT FERRARI?!
max jones-verstappen rhys, you're going to leave your acting job to work at ferrari? rhys jones never mind!
charles leclerc good luck with sylvia
carlos sainz is that why you couldn't even look me in the eye the last time we saw each other?
isabella perez oh that was because i found out about the lewis moving to ferrari and i felt bad. i accidentally overheard before my last meeting with fred. carlos sainz oh
lewis hamilton i thought i had gotten away free from ever having to work with you
isabella perez just because i said no toger doesn't mean you got away free sir hamilton! george russell but that does mean i'm off scot-free!! LET'S GO!
isabella perez question, will i be fired from ferrari for drinking red bull?
penelope trevino just hide it, that's what carlos does. carlos sainz working with red bull means you get a crippling addiction to red bull. pierre gasly he's not wrong. alex albon unfortunately i still suffer from addiction to red bull yuki tsunoda i will smuggle you the drinks isa isabella perez thank you yuki!
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charles leclerc must you immediately cause chaos?
max jones-verstappen that's her brand charles. get used to it. daniel jones-ricciardo she will also embarrass you every opportunity she gets alex albon or jumpscare you at any given opportunity.
isabella perez how the fuck am i meant to handle all my responsibilities?
lando norris should've taken the job at mclaren you muppet.
daniel jones-ricciardo HOW MANY PEOPLE WANTED YOU?
isabella perez i had offers from mercedes, mclaren, and ferrari. fernando also tried bribing me to join aston martin after seb left. fernando alonso that is not true isabella! isabella perez oh it totally is old man!
zoya torres why not mclaren? oscar works there, you'd spend more time with him.
isabella perez i love my boyfriend and lando okay, but i will never, ever forgive mclaren for what they did to danny. bros before hoes. oscar piastri wow. so now i'm a hoe? isabella perez in this scenario yes babe.
daniel jones-ricciardo i thought we were past the mclaren thing by now?
rhys jones we're still at the restaurant. isabella perez what they did was unforgivable in my eyes. sure, oscar got an oppotunity but there are better ways to do things and they failed miserably.
logan sargeant but why leave red bull now? that's what i'm still confused on.
isabella perez i've been with red bull for 3 years, i needed a change.
sebastian vettel i think you'll do great at ferrari isabella.
isabella perez thanks seb!
rhys jones do you think you can convince fred to let you be race engineer to charles or carlos for one race?
arthur leclerc she could probably talk them into a quali at least. carlos sainz please don't torment me with that isabella perez well know i'm going to make it my mission.
bailey winters i've been trying to process for over 20 minutes that isa's leaving red bull. i can't wrap my head around it.
alex albon i'm still shock. lily's asked me if i'm alright about four times already.
dulce perez how did i never find out? you're a blabbermouth.
isabella perez you told me in november that i couldn't keep a secret. i proved you wrong.
max jones-verstappen YOU'VE KNOWN SINCE NOVEMBER? I FOUND OUT IN JANUARY!! isabella perez yes? why do you think i haven't posted anything on the red bull accounts? max jones-verstappen i thought you were being lazy for once. isabella perez no, i told christian back in november i wouldn't be returning for the next season. i didn't want to make a big deal out of it so i waited until abu dhabi.
george russell WE SPENT CHRISTMAS TOGETHER! HOW COULD YOU LIE TO US?!
mae jones-verstappen this is betrayal isabella.
alex albon did you know pastry boy?
oscar piastri no? i knew she was offered the job i just didn't know she had already taken it.
isabella perez anyways. get ready for most chaotic year of ferrari since fernando lost the championship to seb in 2012.
fernando alonso i am surrounded by children.
sebastian vettel that's what you get for being old.
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¡leclerc-s speaks! i don't think i ever mentioned that isabella is an engineering student, so my bad, but i'm mentioning it now! originally i was going to post this part when the season started back up again but then i remembered dts was coming out today so i putting it out now. this is also because i'm working on a dts part and i mentioned this specific move in that and i realized i couldn't post that without posting this one first.
¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
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