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hairmetal666 · 11 months

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Never in a million years did Steve Harrington think he'd be standing in the drama club room in front of Eddie the Freak--who's sitting on a goddamn throne with his full lips pulled into a smug grin--asking to be taught how to play Dorks and Goblins. Yet, here he is, face a burning shade of crimson, as he explains for the sixth time what, exactly, he needs.

"Munson, it's not that hard. Henderson wants me to play in the--the game thingy they're doing when Will is home for a visit."

"Yeah, Harrington, and I stop listening every time you call it a game thingy. You obviously don't care about this at all, so why should I waste my time helping you?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "What if I pay you?"

Munson's face goes through a complicated series of changes before falling into a neutral mask, no smirk or teasing smile to be found. "You'll pay me to teach you dnd? Are you fucking kidding?"

"No?' Steve draws a hand through his hair, watches as Munson's dark eyes track the movement. "I thought you might help me out cause those kids never shut-up about you, but I'm willing to put money on it."

"Huh," Eddie says. He steeples his fingers under his chin. "Maybe I misjudged you, Harrington."

Steve lets himself smile at this. "I don't think you did. I don't give a shit about this game."

"Didn't take you for one to have a bunch of nerdy child friends."

"I'm their babysitter," he says, realizes immediately it was a mistake.

Eddie cackles until it turns into a full-bodied laugh, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "You are something else, Harrington," he manages.

For his part, Steve hopes Munson hasn't noticed how bright red his face is. "Does that mean you'll help me?"

"I guess," he rolls his eyes. "But if you're just screwing around, I'm out."

"No, yeah, totally," Steve nods too hard, sends his hair cascading into his face. "Sounds good. How much?"

"Huh?" Eddie tilts his face up, giving Steve a perfect view of the smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of his nose.

"I said I'd pay you. What's the going rate for dnd lessons?"

"Oh, nah, free of charge, Harrington. Henderson would eat me alive if he knew I made you pay."

The smile they share is soft, tentative, and Steve doesn't notice the swathes of pink decorating Eddie's pale cheekbones.

---

They meet up in the drama room after the last bell. Eddie is waiting on the throne with his feet propped on the table, sipping a Mt. Dew. His eyes widen when Steve walks into the room.

"You're on time," he says.

Steve scoffs. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Eddie shrugs, sets his feet on the floor. "Just wasn't aware that the King put a lot of stock in punctuality."

"C'mon, man, I'm trying not to be that guy, and I'm definitely not king of anything. Unless maybe it's Family Video, but even then, that's Robin."

"You're kind of weird, Harrington, you know that?" Eddie's dimples bracket his smile. The sight does weird things in Steve's chest.

"I've been told, yeah." Steve smiles back. "Where do we start?"

They start with dice, with a character sheet.

"Chaotic-good human Paladin?" Eddie asks.

He shrugs. "That's what Dustin keeps screaming at me. I got no idea what any of it means."

"That's not entirely true," Eddie says. "You've kept up with me so far."

"Yeah, that's you. Dustin rambles and then accuses me of not listening when it's over my head. When he goes on long enough, I start to get a headache right here," Steve rubs the spot between his eyes.

"That kid," Eddie says with the right combination of affection and frustration. "I don't know, you seem to have picked up on some of the stuff he said. You have a solid idea on gameplay, at least. I'd say you're doing pretty good."

"Thanks," Steve laughs. "No migraine yet, so that's a point in your favor."

"Migraines?"

"Head trauma."

"Byers?"

"And Hargrove."

"That was Hargrove?" Eddie asks.

"Hit me in the head with a plate."

"What the fuck."

"He was pissed that Max was friends with Lucas. He came after them. I couldn't just let him--I think he would've killed Lucas."

Eddie nods, hands fiddling with a die. "No wonder those kids love you," he says.

"We've been through some shit together."

"Guess it makes more sense why you wanted to learn dnd."

"As much as it pains me to admit," Steve rolls his eyes. "I love to make those little shitheads happy."

"Well, based on the way they talk about you, you succeed."

"You too, you know?" Steve offers. "All I've heard about the last three months is 'Eddie's so cool,' 'Hellfire's so fun.'"

"Jealous?" Eddie laughs.

"Completely," Steve admits.

"Don't worry, Harrington, I'll make a nerd out of you yet."

---

They meetup after school every day they can over the next two weeks. At first, Steve is surprised that he doesn't really mind spending so much time with Munson, that he actually, kind of, has fun. And the more time they spend together, the more Eddie infiltrates his space. Leans into Steve's side as they sit next to each other, brushes their hands together, hovers over his shoulder, faces nearly touching, as he checks stuff on Steve's character sheet.

It makes Steve feel--well, it makes him think of what it would be like to run his fingers through the soft gloss of Eddie's curls; wonders what that plump mouth would be like pressed against his own; can't stop thinking about if Eddie is as vocal in bed as he is everywhere else. He knows he also likes guys, has for a while, but he's never in his life wanted someone this viscerally; so much he can feel the ache of it in his teeth.

It's the last day before the campaign for Will, and Steve is fucking sad. He thinks maybe Eddie is too. He's at least quieter than normal, explanations not at their usual fever pitch. An hour before they usually call it quits, he claps his hands together (too gently, too unlike himself), says, "That's it, Harrington. You're not going to be more ready than this."

"Right," Steve says. Can't help his eyes from darting over Eddie's face, aching to know what he's thinking. "You'll be there tomorrow?"

Eddie bends his head over his notebooks. "Nah, I don't need to intrude."

"But--"

"It's okay, Stevie. I get that it's family only." He looks like he really means it, but his eyes are sad, don't shine like they should.

Steve doesn't know what to say to that, just nods, and then there's nothing else. They stare at each other for a few very long, quiet seconds, before Eddie says, "I'll see you around, Harrington."

"Right, yeah. You too." And he walks out of the drama room with the heaviest heart he thinks he's ever had.

---

Steve thinks he won't miss Eddie. That if he doesn't dwell on those hours spent with Eddie, learning dnd, that the missing will go away.

It doesn't.

Which is how he finds himself back at the high school on Wednesday, standing in front of the drama room door, willing himself to go inside. Eddie's on the throne, the typical notebooks and binders and Mt. Dew cans clustered around him, but he's not engrossed in imagining up a new campaign for Hellfire. No, his head is in his hands, knees drawn up to his chest.

"Eddie?" Steve asks.

His head pops up, and even in the low light, Steve notices the silvery tracks of tears down his cheeks.

"Steve! What are you--" he hastily wipes at his face with his shirt sleeve. "What are you doing here?"

Steve's acting only on instinct, crossing the room and dropping to his knees, taking Eddie's jaw between his palms, thumbing away the wetness on his cheeks.

"Did someone hurt you?" he asks.

Eddie's laugh is wet. "Nah, Harrington. I only have myself to blame for this one."

"Can I do anything?"

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Sorry?"

"You, Steve Harrington, kind and compassionate? Learn dnd to make your little nerd friends happy? Who are you?"

"I'm just me, man," Steve blushes. "But, uh, I came to thank you." He's still holding Eddie's face in his hands, can't help but notice the way he flushes, how his dark eyes dart away from Steve's.

"I really liked hanging out with you," Steve says. This close to Eddie, his mind doesn't quite feel like his own. All he can think of is big eyes, soft curls, full lips.

"Yo--you did?"

"So much," Steve whispers. He doesn't quite remember moving, but now their foreheads are pressed together, warm breath mingling, lips almost, almost touching.

"I liked it too," Eddie breathes. After a few seconds, he laughs. "Knew I'd make a nerd out of you, Harrington."

"Shut-up," Steve laughs.

"Make me," Eddie says, and it's just that easy. Steve crosses the space still separating them, presses his mouth against Eddie's.

The kiss is slow, exploratory, the gentle discovery of how they fit together, the promise of all the things they can do in the future, all the pleasure they can bring.

"I'm not a nerd," Steve says when they part.

"No, you're right. You're like a nerd by marriage. Nerd-in-law," Eddie giggles. His eyes are bright, face pink, the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen.

"Shut-up," Steve giggles right back.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, the dare obvious, and Steve doesn't hesitate to kiss him again.

"You wanna get out of here?" Steve asks when they part, significantly more breathless, jeans significantly tighter, than when he arrived.

"You're gonna have to role persuasion for that, Stevie," Eddie smirks.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #ficlet #oneshot #dnd lessons #falling in love #mutual pining #eddie's down so bad #first kiss #secret nerd steve harrington #i don't know anything about dnd actually so sorry if it's wrong #strangers to friends to lovers #alternate first meeting #big eyes soft curls full lips can't lose #“shut up” “make me” is a love language

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wingedjellyfishflight · 2 months

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The Couch

Your official job is as a psychiatrist, but not a single one of the men who visit you care about that. They don't care about you at all. They just want... your cozy damn couch. Every time you walk in the room, there is a big burly man sleeping or lounging on it. Rarely, it is a woman. This time, there are three of them fighting over it. You sigh and submit a request for three more couches. When the supply officer asks why, you claim it is for group sessions. He sends one couch over. It is almost as comfortable as the original, and they take to it quickly.

You stop in your tracks the day you spot a KorTac man sitting nervously on the couch. So far, only Price's team and his associated strays have taken advantage of the open couch. You smile briefly before moving to sit at your desk.

"I'm here if you want to talk, but the couch is open to whomever wants a nap or to relax. No talking required." He nods, slightly more relaxed, and you focus on your computer. When you look up later, you see he has laid down and fallen asleep, his soft snores filling the room. After that, you send in another request and another for more couches and a couple of reclining chairs. You are denied. They tell you to just bring in folding chairs. You decide to use your paycheck and bring in something more comfortable than folding chairs.

The next week, you are struggling to get a reclining chair down the hall as silently as possible when you freeze, a chill running down your back. Turning, you see Ghost standing only a foot away, silently watching with his arms crossed.

"I got a new chair." Your bright smile seems to just bounce off his broad chest, but you pay no mind to him, turning back to the task at hand. You get a few feet further and glance back to say something witty, but Ghost is gone. Another few feet, and you are bodily lifted by a set of strong arms before Ghost and König pick up the chair and carry it to your office with no effort. You thank them and ask if they would be willing to help you with one more thing since they are here. Rolling their eyes, they follow you.

Proudly, you show them the three large boxes that you bought. The men are not amused. Their body language switches from annoyed to almost angry when you pick up one of the boxes. König nearly tears it from your hands, and Ghost swiftly grabs the second box. Holding up your hands, you wait until they storm inside to pick up the third box and follow them.

It takes most of the day for the stuffing in the giant floor pillows to fluff up from being vacuum packed in the boxes, so you take the time to rearrange the room. The next day, opening the door after lunch, you spot no less than ten men and one woman lounging in various spots around the room.

A few weeks later and Soap asks if you can requisition another chair because he is annoyed that Captain Price is constantly snoring away in the only one. You shake your head sadly.

"Sorry, bud. I can't get another one for a while. Too expensive." He nods but puzzles over your wording for the next few days before filing it in the back of his mind.

It takes another couple months for you to save up, but you do bring in a second chair. Soap nearly dances when he sees it.

"I tried to ask supply for one of these for my office, but they had no idea what I was talking about."

"Oh, they wouldn't. They deem my request too frivolous every time." You tap away at the computer, only half paying attention to Soap.

"Then, how did you convince them?"

"Didn't. Had to go get it myself." The silence that falls over the room is far more tense than usual.

"You, you bought these for us? Like with your own money?" You sigh. Here is the conversation you were hoping to avoid. Turning to Soap, you see every person in the room staring at you, trying to work out what is happening.

"Yes, of course. Nothing but the best for my patients. I am the psychiatrist for KorTac and 141, after all."

"What?! We just, we thought you were just an officer with a comfortable couch. But you're a god damn psychiatrist?!" You can see several edging toward the door, nervously.

"Yep. Ghost, please wait just a moment." He hesitates with his hand on the doorknob. "Think about how long you've been napping in here. Have I ever overstepped? Four years I have been assigned to the 141, and not once have I updated your files. Luckily, I can claim patient-doctor confidentiality, or I would be out of a job."

"So, you haven't been doing your job at all?" This comes from Captain Price, who looks confused.

"Oh, I have been. If you don't mind sharing, what is the thing your last psychiatrist kept trying to force you to do, Captain?"

"Fuckin golf. Claimed it would be a good stress relief like I want to be a lazy damn officer."

You nod and glance around. "Ghost, what was your recommendation?"

"God damn yoga." You hear Soap snort and give him a small smile.

"Mmhmm, not something I imagine you would ever be interested in. And you König, if you don't mind?"

His voice is quiet but strong, "Guided meditation."

"Every one of those is rooted in the idea that you need to rest. My job was to find a way to make it happen, and I wasn't keen on being stonewalled and hated by the people I work with. So, I left the door open and passed a rumor around that there was a mythical comfortable couch. Sort of a build it and they will come." You pause and gather your courage. "As I have said from the beginning, talking is optional. Naps and resting are welcome. That's the way it will stay as long as I am here."

Turning back to your computer, you submit another supply request, worded slightly different from the last. A bigger office for more group sessions so both teams can be present. The silence in the room is less tense, but you don't look up from your screen, not wanting to see how many left, knowing who you are now. To your surprise, when you stand up to stretch, every spot is still occupied.

The next week, you get your denial and an inspection scheduled as you haven't been logging apppointments since posted there, and your constant requests have been noticed. The stress shows in the tenseness of your jaw and the furrow between your eyes, but you don't say a word to anyone.

The day of your inspection comes, and you brace yourself for invasive questions and the likely anger from whomever shows up when you refuse to answer those questions. You hint three time and then outright tell the lounging men to leave just minutes before the scheduled appointment, frantically trying to tidy up and make it look like you have adults as patients instead of sleep away camp.

"What is goin' on, lass?" Soap asks lazily from the floor pillow he refuses to vacate.

"I- I have an inspection, like right now." That gets their attention.

"Och aye! We will clear ou-" A knock at the door interrupts him. You take a deep breath, forcing your emotions under a smile.

"Enter." A man confidently walks in, faltering when he sees so many eyes on him.

"I am here to inspect your work, Captain. You were informed as to the time?" Standing, you salute him, then motion him to one of the seats.

"Yes, my apologies, Lieutenant Colonel. This group session ran a little late. If you could excuse us, everyone. We can pick this back up tomorrow. Hopefully." They all stand and salute the Lieutenant Colonel before walking out. He stalks to the chair in front of your desk.

"You will be lucky to make it to the end of the day if I have anything to say about it. You have clearly squandered resources buying all of this furniture, and there isn't a single update to any personnel files. Your explanation better be damn good, Captain."

You meet his gaze squarely before answering. "I am assigned to a unit whose work is often above top secret. I do not take notes on what is said in this room. I have found that doing so makes patients uncomfortable and, therefore, less likely to relax."

"That doesn't explain why you are not charting recommendations." You lean back and pull out a paper from a drawer.

"These are the recommendations previously listed in the files of various patients who are now under my command. Almost all of them fall into the same category: relax. So when I reviewed the files, I notated in the general team file for The 141 that relaxing activities would be undertaken as needed. The KorTac file gained the same note when they were switched to my purvue. There is no need to update individual files when I do my utmost to only hold group sessions, again for comfort to the patients."

He sits back, clearly not convinced, but at least pondering it a moment. "Why did you have KorTac transferred to your care? They were previously under another, frankly more competent, psychiatrist."

"Was that psychiatrist able to get them to open up? Honestly, I am curious if the team even showed up to their sessions by how sparse their files are. Colonel König has been here for six years, and his entire file is less than a dozen pages. The same could be said for nearly all of the KorTac team. There are notations in most of these files that KorTac and The 141 can not be in the same room for more than five minutes at a time without fighting. Yet nearly every day members of both teams are here for upwards of an hour a day, and they haven't had any fights outside of here in months." You snap your jaw shut, noticing the slightest of movement behind the Lieutenant Colonel. You stand and salute.

"Corporal, you've already saluted me. Sit down."

"She is saluting me, not you, Lieutenant Colonel." Colonel König salutes you back as the Lieutenant Colonel grouses about being interrupted before he turns and pales. He hurriedly stands and renders his own salute, which is returned with deliberate slowness.

"Colonel, if I may?" At his nod, you continue. "I did not mean to speak so flippantly of your records. I should have guarded their contents more closely. You have my deepest apologies." His eyes lock with yours, and you could swear he is either smirking or smiling.

"It is of no consequence. I am glad to know that you feel such concern, despite the public nature that such personnel files often suffer during inquests such as these." He pulls up another chair from who knows where and sits just behind the Lieutenant Corporal. "I will monitor to ensure sensitive information about need to know operations is not disclosed."

You nod, "Yes, Colonel. Understood."

The Lieutenant Colonel shifts uncomfortably with the gaze at his back. "Circling back to my first concern. The wasting of British coffers on unnecessary seating is clear gross misconduct. You will need to return all except for the standard single couch immediately."

"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel. When can you send supply over to fetch the other couch?" He looks surprised, as though he expected more of a fight.

"I will have to confer with them to see when they will be able to take so many large items."

"Hmm? Oh no, only the two couches, desk, computer, and the chair you sit in were issued. The rest I brought in at my own expense to better facilitate having over a dozen soldiers and officers in here at the same time. I do ask to keep the original couch. It is the only one long enough to fit many of the men I treat." He looks shocked.

"You furnished the rest?" You can see him fighting not to look around at the room, hand fidgeting on the desk.

"Of course. Patients come first in my care. Every request I have put in has been denied since the second couch. The number of patients I see has more than doubled with the strays that Captain Price and Colonel König have dragged with them into my office. We are running out of time today. Would you like to meet again next week, or do you have the information needed to close out this inquiry?" The Lieutenant Colonel seems shocked.

"But I have more questions. And you need to answer them."

"I understand that, which is why I am offering another meeting. But you scheduled just one time block for this, and I have others coming in right after. The noise he made was pure frustration, and he let loose without thinking.

"Listen here you cunt! You will not get out of this by claiming an appointment. You will answer my questions until I am satisfied and have enough to properly fuck you over the way you deserve! I-!" A hand claps onto his shoulder, making him wince in pain.

"Lieutenant Colonel Riggs. That is not conduct becoming an officer. You will cease your screaming and see yourself out. Your lack of preparation and knowledge does not permit you to abuse officers of a lower rank. You will join me in my office while we discuss this further." The icy tone has you wincing in sympathy. When the door shuts behind them, you nearly collapse on your desk in relief. After a long moment of fighting the urge to cry, you jolt when a hand rubs your back.

"Ghost, why are you still in my office?"

"Support?" You grunt before looking up at him.

"Thank you. Now, I'm going to have a good cry, so if you need to leave to avoid it, now is a good time." Instead of leaving, he makes you stand and walk to the couch where he tugs you to his chest.

"Cry all you want, Luv. I'm here for you, just like you were for me all those times these past few years."

#call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #konig cod #fluff

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schemmentigfs · 3 months

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Future Milf, part two.

part one!

paring: melissa schemmenti x reader.

summary: after the incident in the teacher's lounge, you start to avoid melissa who is willing to know what happened and trying to get things back to normal.

warnings: just a little angst but trust me, we have a happy ending!

author notes: This is a little rushed, but I hope you all enjoy this second part 🤍 I also wanted to thank the beautiful people who are sending requests for Mel, they are amazing and i'm already working on them! And don't worry, feel free to send any idea that comes to mind. It will be an honor for me to turn them into reality.

tags: @esposadejoyhuerta @gweninred @moistblobfish

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes!

The truth was that Melissa was completely disoriented, her brain trying to process what had happened in the last seven minutes. You acting like that and apologizing, leaving the room as quickly as possible made her worried as hell.

All she wanted was to comfort you and know what was really happening. There were a lot of doubts in her mind, to be honest. Had she done something? Or said something? The way you couldn't look into her green eyes was so strange..

Everything between you two was great until today, and then it all suddenly fell apart at lunchtime? That made her feel a little paranoid.

“Melissa, are you well? Are you hurt?” Barb asks.

“I don't know,” she said, staring into nothing, worrying her friends, “I just need to check on her.” The redhead gets up and runs to start looking for you.

“MELISSA! WAIT!” the entire Abbott crew screams, but she completely ignores it.

She stops in front of your classroom and notices that the door is locked. The lights are off, but Melissa knows you're in there.

“Sweetheart, please let me in,” she knocks gently, “I am not mad with ya. Don't worry about it, I just want to know how you are.” The older woman adds, almost begging for you to open the door.

Locked inside your classroom, you were sitting on the floor. Curled up hugging your knees, trying to find some comfort while crying. The whole situation was so fucking stupid, of course. But it still left you overwhelmed and on the verge of an anxiety attack.

So lending Melissa the future milf t-shirt made you completely lose your mind? Wow, you really were a stupid person. Stupid. That word stuck in your brain and made you cry even more.

Hearing your quiet sobs made the redhead's heart break into pieces. The thought of her doing something that made you hurt was utterly painful. The truth was that Melissa would blame herself for the rest of her life if she had made you feel bad in any way.

“Hon, c'mon. Let me—” she started.

“Don't. Melissa, please. Just go away, I need to be alone,” you interrupt her, hoping she would understand that you didn't have the strength to say anything else.

Before walking away, she whispers loud enough for you to hear. “If you need anything, you know where to find me. But please, promise me you'll be okay.” The redhead said trying to wipe away the small tears that threatened to fall from her face.

“I'll be fine. Now go.” You growl, unaware that your words have fully gotten to her.

—

It had been a while since Melissa changed her mood so quickly. She had learned to control her emotions, thanks to you, who helped her notice that it was okay to show them from time to time and it wasn't shameful at all. But at that moment everything seemed useless.

Her legs were shaking slightly and she kept tapping her fingers on the desk, while trying to focus on correcting some of the children's homeworks. It was clear that Melissa was almost having a huge panic attack.

Ashely, who was now scrolling through her cell phone boredly after making sure the students were doing their activities calmly and in silence, noticed the sudden change in the redhead and her eyebrows raised in confusion.

“What’s the matter, boss? You seem a little quiet since lunch time. Which is strange ‘cause earlier you were all excited and—”

The older woman rolls her eyes. “Nothing happened. I'm fine,” she responds, clenching her teeth, “everything is ok, kid.”

“Are you sure? I know we’re not that close, but if you need to vent, I’m all ears.” The girl shrugs.

Melissa's eyes widen, her aide was really willing to give her some advice? Normally, Ashley didn't tend to be very serious. When she tried to help, the girl always ended up saying things that were a bit nonsense. But this time, she was here ready to be a shoulder to lean on.

“Y/n..” she started but quickly corrected herself, not quite ready to confide the crush she had on you to anyone else than Barbara. “Today, a strange thing happened between me and a friend that honestly left me completely confused.”

“Oh. Do you have any idea what might have happened?”

Melissa stops for a moment, trying to get her head to work and think of a reason that could explain what had happened between the two of you.

“I-I can't explain it properly...everything was normal between us and when lunch time came...” the teacher stuttered, “she could barely look at me and when I told her to act like a real adult and tell me what was happening, she panicked and ran away.”

“After that you were able to talk to her?”

“Kinda, but she told me to leave her alone.”

Ashley gives her a pitying look, she knew who Melissa was referring to. Anyone who works at Abbott would know. “I'm sorry this happened boss, but I'm sure things will get better between you and her. Just give her a little time.”

Melissa nodded and smiled. “Thanks for the advice, hon.”

“Anytime boss, anytime.”

—

Changing my life with the wave of her hand.

Nobody can deny that there's something there.

There.

Running my hands through her hair.

Both of us thinking how good it can be.

Someone is speaking, but she doesn't know he's there.

The melody of Here, There And Everywhere by The Beatles echoed throughout the kitchen directly from the small radio on the balcony, while Melissa prepared dinner.

This was one of the many songs she always wanted to dedicate to you, the redhead dreamed of dancing with her arms around you, after a busy day at school while this song played. Just the two of you, enjoying each other's company.

Was it quite cliché? Of course it was, even for the one and only Melissa Schemmenti. But to be honest, she didn't care how it sounded.

The older woman was so in love with you that she thought of endless romantic scenarios every day. After what happened today, every one of them seemed distant. But she still had a simple hope within her.

“Watching her eyes, and hoping I'm always there,” she sings passionately, while cutting the tomatoes perfectly, “I want her everywhere, and if she is beside me. I know I need never care, but to love her is to need her everywhere.” Melissa closes her eyes for a moment, thinking about you.

On the way out, she looked for you in the Abbott parking lot but was unsuccessful, she was waiting for a message from you, saying that you had arrived home safely like you always did.

But you didn't send her anything.

A feeling ran through her body. It was as if the redhead was losing the most precious thing in her life. Desperate, Melissa picked up her cellphone that was leaning on the living room table and went to check on you. Screw the advice Ashely gave earlier, she couldn't wait anymore.

Hon, are you feeling better? I hope so. By the way, did you manage to get home safely?

Sorry if I sound desperate, but I need to know if things are ok.

Y/n? Please answer me.

Her heart breaks into pieces when she sees that you just viewed the message and didn't even make the effort to reply back. For fuck’s sake, what had she done that was so serious? Nothing made sense anymore.

Just a few blocks away, you were lying on the couch and drinking an entire bottle of vodka, pretending like you didn't care about not responding to Melissa's messages. It was immature, but it seemed to make sense to you. Since this whole milf situation was a complete disaster, ignoring her seemed right.

Of course, inside you felt like a monster, knowing that the redhead didn't deserve this. But what you could do?

“I’m ready to open another bottle and listen to a two-hour-plus loop of Chamber of Reflection,” you say, making Ava sigh.

The principal had stopped by your house hours ago to check on you and when she saw the miserable state you were in, she decided to stay there for a while. And tried to comfort you (in the most Ava Coleman way possible.)

“Y/N. Come on, you can't act like Schemmenti doesn't exist. If you keep doing that, she'll soon break into your place to find out what's going on,” she comments, “just like an episode of a soap opera where the greatest absurdities happen in an exactly dramatic way.” Ava finished her sentence while painting her nails a shade of red. The act catching your attention.

Red. It reminded you of Melissa.

Yeah, this was being harder than it seemed.

“Shut up, she won't come after me,” you said it like it was just another one of the stupid things Ava used to say.

“Yes, she will. And y’know that very well.”

—

The next day, Melissa sat with her arms crossed at the table she shared with Barb and you. The redhead stared at the small tupperware in front of her, last night she made what she knew was your favorite dish: pancakes. She was anxiously waiting for you to show up in the break room, but that didn't happen.

Keep calm, Schemmenti. She will appear soon. She won't ignore you.

“Dear..” the kindergarten teacher whispers and she snorts, trying to change the subject, disguising how tense she was.

“What’s so interesting out there?” Melissa asks as she notices Janine, Gregory and Jacob looking at each other with strange expressions after spying in the window.

“Nothing.” Jacob is the first to respond and the couple agrees with him, swearing that there was nothing interesting outside.

She laughs humorlessly, the history teacher simply didn't know how to lie.

“C'mon, kiddo. You guys look like you've seen a ghost.” The redhead gets up from the table and approaches the three, squinting to see anything out of the ordinary and when she does. Her breathing hitches.

On the sidewalk, there were you and another teacher, who she recognized as the art teacher. The woman was happily chatting with you and leaning too close to Melissa's chagrin.

Ms. Evans was know for her big crush on you, she was always fighting with the redhead to have your attention. And now that Melissa was being ignored by you, this bitch thought she could have you all to herself? No way.

“YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” she yelled coming down to get some satisfaction from you.

The sound of angry footsteps caught your attention, it was clearly that they belong to who you had been avoiding since yesterday, Melissa.

The wish was for the redhead to pass straight by without noticing your presence there. But instead, she approached and with a certain force grabbed you by the arm, taking you to one of the far corners of the building.

“Melissa! What the fuck?” you said.

“So while I was worried to death there in the staff room because you didn't talked to me since yesterday, you were here talking normally to that idiot!” the older woman's tone was altered, you could clearly hear the jealousy in her voice, “Had fun with your new best friend?”

“She’s not my best friend. We were just talking,” the nonsensical accusation makes you roll your eyes, letting out a mocking chuckle. “Melissa, stop acting like that!” you shout and she loses her temper even more.

“You suddenly act like a bitch and I’m the one to blame? What the fuck is wrong with you, Y/n?” she growls, fire in her green eyes.

“I dunno, a lot of things I suppose,” you retort coldly.

Melissa sighs when she realizes how tough she was. “Look, I don’t want to be an idiot. But please tell me what I did, so I can fix it.”

“We have nothing to fix between us, Schemmenti.”

“What? Are you really going to ignore it and pretend like none of this is happening?” The redhead asked in disbelief.

“Trust me. It’s better this way, for both of us,” you mumble, walking away from her, leaving an upset Melissa behind.

—

After the ‘argument’ on Tuesday, Melissa and you barely crossed paths at Abbott. And when you bumped into each other in the hallway, both grumbled and went back to your own ways.

The redhead and you were fighting the need to put the damned pride aside and throw yourselfs into each other's arms, and finally apologizing. But you were too stubborn for that and it was fucking complicated.

“This is stupid! Can you believe that Y/n started going to that coffee shop that's just a few blocks away from here just so she wouldn't have to face me at lunch? This whole thing is starting to irritate me.” Melissa tells to her best friend one morning.

“I understand that this situation is complicated, but don’t you think that both of you are exaggerating?” Barb asked carefully. Even she couldn't handle this situation anymore, it was disappointing to have to see you and Melissa acting like two children.

Ava who was listening to the conversation cautiously, decided to interrupt. “Schemmenti, haven’t you put the pieces together yet? Unbelievable.” She said as if it was something of small importance, making the redhead's eyebrows raise in confusion.

“Huh?”

“It’s so simple, I thought you already figured it all out,” the principal continues in a mysterious tone, making Melissa's head spin, “If it weren’t for this bullshit, you and Y/n would already be like two rabbits jumping on top of each other, if you know what I mean.”

The last comment makes Barb choke on her tea. “Ava, could you not be so specific about this? We’re in a school!” she scolds her.

“Whatever! It’s past time for her to know that Y/n likes her too. Even Janine and Gregory acted better than that!”

Everything around Melissa seemed to have gone silent. So was it true, the feelings were also reciprocal. A lot of questions surrounded her mind, why didn't you say anything? Why did you decide to pretend you weren't in love with her? Were you afraid of not being reciprocated?

“Why is she avoiding me then?” the redhead asks out loud, “that’s making me lose my mind. I just miss her.”

“Because of the t-shirt she lend ya. Mainly ‘cause of the last word printed on it.” That's all Ava says at that moment.

“A milf?” Melissa questions, still confused trying to think of putting the pieces together. “What does that mean? Is it something bad?”

“I was going to suggest you to google the meaning, but since you look like you're about to have a heart attack, I will tell ya,” she laughs and the redhead rolls her eyes, showing Ava her middle finger, “but don't be scared, it's a good thing, actually.”

“Alright..” the green-eyed woman whispers, still afraid of the answer, “so what does this whole milf thing means?”

“Mother I'd Like To Fuck. It also means that an older woman is super attractive.”

Melissa was left open-mouthed, her eyes blinking trying to process the explanation. So that was the damn meaning, well, she had to admit that was hot. “Wait... so Y/n..” she starts but there is a pause.

“Is in love with you and was scared when she saw ya wearing that t-shirt looking extremely hot, and preferred to stay away in case you found out what she felt.” Ava reveals it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, “What are you waiting for? Go find your girl, Schemmenti.”

—

Time passed slowly to Melissa's disgust and despair, making the poor woman sigh feeling defeated. As each second passed, she glanced quickly at the clock on her classroom wall, waiting for the afternoon to end.

After her students left, and the school day was finally over. She drove to your house — without caring about traffic regulations and rules — nothing else really mattered, she just needed to see you.

Sitting on the floor, while assembling a Lego set that simulated a beautiful bouquet of flowers — a gift you received from Janine and Gregory days ago, a lovely attempt by the couple to cheer you up — the sound of the doorbell ringing caught your attention. Making you stop your movements.

You furrowed your eyebrow in confusion, who could it be? Most of your friends were at different appointments at that time. So it certainly wasn't one of them.

“I'm almost coming! I just hope you’re not a stupid lunatic or some other ,” you grumbled, standing up as the sounds of the doorbell seemed more desperate with each passing second.

You opened the door and found Melissa standing there with her arms crossed, shivering slightly from the storm. “Hon, it’s so good to see you again.” She murmurs with a weak smile. Without caring if her voice sounds too desperate.

“Mel, what are you doing here? You might catch a damn cold like that.” You scolded her, pulling her into the house and locking the door again.

“I don’t care about that, I needed to see you. Actually we have to talk.” She responds taking off the black leather jacket that covered her body and hanging it where you kept your coats.

“We have to?” There is a little hesitation in the tone of your voice, all that courage and confidence have disappeared from your body. Insecurity taking over.

“Yeah, hon. We do.” She replied, noticing your nervousness, Melissa tries to comfort you, placing her hand on your shoulder and stroking it lovingly, showing that everything was fine. You smile for the first time in days in the presence of your beloved redhead.

She takes you to the small white sofa that was in the middle of the living room. “I know you were avoiding me because of that shirt. And I know you're in love with me.”

“What? Fuck, how did you figure all this out?” you whisper in panic, covering your face with your hands. Feeling vulnerable at the mercy of the red-haired figure sitting next to you.

A silence fell in the room, making you feel even more embarrassed.

“Ava told me those things earlier today. Hon, why didn't you tell me anything? That would have made everything so much easier.”

“What do you mean by making things easier? I don't understand.”

“I'm love with you too, idiot. I just didn't say before ‘cause I was insecure as fuck. But now, I know exactly what I want: you. No one else, just you.” She confessed with a smile on her face.

Automatically your body falls even more on the couch and you feel slightly dizzy. Closing your eyes slowly, trying to regain consciousness. “Sorry, I'm a bit nervous,” you respond. “It's too much to process. Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t be nervous, it’s me. Just me,” Melissa pulls you into her lap sighing as she smells your lavender scent again. “I'm sorry if I acted like a bitch the last few days. It was not necessary.”

“It was never your fault, I was the real bitch. You didn’t deserve to go through this just because of an irresponsible attitude of mine,” you say, resting your foreheads together.

“I think it's fair to say that we overreacted a bit,” the older woman smiles with her eyes closed. Feeling a slight courage run through her body, she asks you something. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?” Melissa asks biting her lip and slowly approaching, “I wanna do this since New Year's Eve.”

“Yes, please, Mel.” You beg wrapping your arms around her neck.

The moment her lips touched yours, it felt like you were in heaven. Melissa's lips were soft against yours. The kiss was calm and peaceful, both wanting to show all the love you felt for each other.

“You know, being considered a milf is an honor for me.” Melissa scoffs with a mischievous smile as you pull away from the kiss.

“Shut up.” You chuckle, cupping her cheeks.

“Make me,” the redhead teases, “please.”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #wlw

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kemistre · 10 months

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εïз┊𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 — feat. bokuto koutarou, suna rintarou, oikawa tooru, miya osamu, kuroo tetsurou

synopsis. how haikyuu boys comfort you when you've had a bad day

— content warnings. none! just comfy stuff <3 — word count. 670

εïз┊author's note. here's this inspired by the awful birthday i had today!!!

εïз┊b. koutarou

his excited grin turned into a concerned frown as you walked through the door with teary eyes. he mumbled your name, his furrowed brows and small voice crack showed how much it hurt him to see you this way. with daunting steps, he hugged you tight, pulling you into his chest while whispering little words of comfort into your ear. his callous hands rubbing circles into your back made you sink into him, huggin him back even tighter as he spoke. "hug me as tight as you need baby." he calmed you down, little by little until you told him what happened for you to be so, so upset.

εïз┊s. rintatou

he heard the front door shut forcefully as he laid on the couch, his phone in his hands. he paused, hearing your quiet footsteps coming towards him as he glanced up from his phone to see you with watery eyes and a scowl on your lips. he set his phone on his chest, slowly raising himself up so he leaned his back on the arm of the couch. he stretched out his arms, motioning for you to come over and without a second thought, you nuzzled into his chest and hugged him close. he smoothed back your hair as you sobbed into him, placing a delicate kiss on your head as his other hand snaked around your lower back. "just let it all out, don't hold anything back, okay baby?"

εïз┊o. tooru

it wasn't soon after you'd gotten home that he realized you weren't yourself. it didn't take him long at all to figure those kinds of things out. so, he approached you in the kitchen where you'd set down your things, opening his arms with those kind, understanding eyes, his lips curling into a sad smile. you let yourself fall into him, the tears finally streaming down your cheeks from the day of holding them in. you held his jacket for support as he swayed, humming a little tune as to calm your racing thoughts. "you're doing so amazing, angel, i'm so proud of you for getting through the day."

εïз┊m. osamu

he never thought of leaving your side as you sat on the couch, you head in your hands. he rubbed circles into your back, hoping to calm you down without knowing what caused your breakdown. you sobbed into your hands, fear of speaking and making yourself cry more. you felt him get up from the couch, his hand smoothing back your hair as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "ya don't have ta say anythin' darlin', but let me try ta cheer ya up, yeah?" he took your hands from your face, pulling you up from the couch slowly as his worried frown soon turned into a kind smile. he took your hand in his, leading you to the kitchen where he turned on some soft and relaxing music, showing you how he always made your favorite meal.

εïз┊k. tetsurou

he stared at your quivering lips, your teeth biting your bottom lip as you walked into your shared bedroom. he sat in bed, reading a book on chemistry as he'd done every night before bed for months. he sighed, giving you a sad smile before getting up from where he sat, holding your cheeks in his hands. his hands slid down to your own, slowly leading you to the bed where he pulled up the covers, letting you plop onto the bed as you stared up at him with doey eyes. before you knew it, he had helped you into your pajamas and gotten you ready for bed and getting back to his spot. he pulled the blankets over the two of you, wrapping his arms around you and lightly resting his cheek on your head, every so often placing a simple kiss upon your head. he hugged you tighter the more you cried, and he was willing to wait as long as you needed to be able to talk to him. "i'm here for you every step of the way, my love."

taglist :: there's none at the moment but just send me a message to my inbox if you wanna be tagged :3

#[εïз] — fluffy time #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu comfort #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo comfort #miya osamu #osamu x reader #miya osamu comfort #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto comfort #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa comfort #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna comfort

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babydollmarauders · 8 months

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IF THIS WAS A MOVIE — DAWSON MERCER

dawson mercer x fem!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which y/n and Dawson fought before he left for New Jersey and now y/n has regrets.

notes: this takes place in March of 2023. i cried writing this, but that could just be me because i’m a sensitive and emotional baby. (4.6k words)

i was pathetic.

utterly pathetic.

i knew so, my friends said so, even my family said so.

it’s been six months and i still can’t bring myself to do anything besides regret everything that went down last September.

*** September 12th, 2022 ***

“why are you waiting until the day before i’m supposed to leave, to tell me this?” he fumes, glancing at me with glaring eyes as i sink back onto the mattress.

“i wasn’t sure how to tell you, Daws.” i reply meekly. my fingers fumble together, an anxious tick that’s plagued me since grade school.

“how are you just gonna leave me like this?” Dawson huffs, halting his packing in order to stare me down, and i know that no answer i give him will be good enough right now.

“i’m not leaving you, Dawson. i’m just-” i pause, mulling over the right words for a moment. “deferring the move for a couple of months.”

“right.” he nods. “and then you’ll defer it for a few more months, right? until finally i get back and you never had to move at all?”

“thats not what’s happening!”

i scare myself with my unnaturally raised voice. i’m not usually one to lose my temper, but the fact that he’s not understanding my reasoning and seeing where i’m coming from, instead accusing me of things i would never do, has me frustrated.

“when have i ever given you the impression that i wasn’t gonna move at all? there are just a few loose ends i have to tie up here before i can move to another country for you!”

“for me?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “this is for us!”

“it’s your dream Dawson, not mine. but i’m willing to make the sacrifice of leaving home, if you just give me the time!”

he lets out a hollow laugh, sending chills down my spine at the empty sound.

“how much time do you need? we already did long distance for my rookie year. the plan was always for you to join me this season! it’s not my fault that you didn’t time things out accordingly!”

“i never said it was your fault! you’re putting words in my mouth!” i shout, rising from the end of the bed in order to seem more confident. “i’m just saying that i have some things to do, and i’ll drive down, with all my stuff, in a couple months!”

“it’s not that easy! i can’t help you move in once the season is going!” he reminds me, as if i haven’t already thought about that.

“i know, and that’s fine! i can do it on my own!” i tell him. “i just can’t up and leave right now! i’ll move down in November!”

“that’s what you say now.” he rolls his eyes, zipping up the duffel bag that holds some of the clothes and gear that he keeps here in my apartment.

“why do you keep saying that?” i screech. i don’t understand these assumptions he’s making, that i’ll never join him in New Jersey.

“because that’s what’s gonna happen! you don’t love me enough to move, just say it! instead of putting the move off until we’ve grown apart and you don’t have to make it!”

“get out.” the words slip past my lips before i even have the time to think them through. his eyes widen in surprise, but i refuse to keep fighting with him about this. “if you think that lowly of me, then just leave. if we’re just gonna fight, then i don’t wanna talk to you.”

i stomp through the hallways, trailing behind him, and i watch him leave my first floor apartment, heading straight for his car. i slam the door shut behind him, twisting the lock and letting my forehead fall against the door with a thud.

i turn, pressing my back against the door and allowing my body to slide down until my butt rests against the floor. thinking over the entire fight, tears fill my eyes now that i’m alone.

what just happened?

he’ll come back. he has to.

right?

*** PRESENT ***

he never came back.

in fact he hasn’t contacted me since that fight. completely ghosting me. shunning me out of his bright new life.

i still wake up most mornings, reaching out towards the cold sheets of the right side of the bed, expecting him to be there. his bright smile and his infectious body temperature, like my own personal space heater. but i know he’s not there, and i’m not sure he’ll ever occupy that space again.

and now i lay confined to the left side of the bed, my body still unconsciously trained not to sprawl out.

the thin white sheet that covers my body doesn’t do much to protect me from the cold Newfoundland air that seeps in through my broken bedroom window, but i make no move to get up.

it’s long past noon on my day off, but i only woke an hour ago; having been up late into the night, thinking back what felt like a thousand memories of Dawson and i, trying to distract myself of the deafening silence that resulted to my own heartbeat in my ears.

back when we were together and happy.

in high school, when we met.

when i attended his QMJHL games, and when we would go out to eat afterwards, him listening to whatever mindless gossip i had learned through my friends, and me nodding along to his hockey talk and the stories of what stupid things his teammates did before that days game.

when he met my parents for the first time, and when i met his.

when he would get annoyed that we were persuaded to bring his siblings with us places, and i would lace our hands together while he drove, encouraging him to tune out his brother and sister arguing in the back seat over who got to control the music.

back when we had the kind of love that i only ever thought existed in movies.

i reach over to my nightstand, retrieving my phone. and despite knowing this would only hurt me more, i click into my camera roll, entering the still open photo album of our relationship.

i restart at the beginning, the very first photo we ever took together. when we were only fourteen and didn’t know where life would take us. we were strictly friends at the time, meeting through our other friends, who thought we would be cute together.

then i get to the photos when we were fifteen. when Dawson asked me to the 2017 valentine’s dance at school. when we finally started dating. when we were in that awkward stage of finding what our relationship was like now that we had taken the next step.

getting to the pictures of us when we were sixteen was like watching a romantic movie. most were taken after his games, some taken by friends while i kissed him in congratulations of a win or hugged him after a loss. the honeymoon year.

then came the videos. seventeen year old us thought we were the cutest. two years together meant we were a lot more comfortable around each other. videos of him doing face masks with me. of us dancing around his kitchen at two in the morning, nothing providing light besides the open refrigerator.

year three of our relationship was a little trickier. eighteen and we were graduating high school, with plenty of pictures in our caps and gowns to prove it. the year he got drafted by the Devils. that was the year that it really sunk in that he would eventually be leaving. that year, i spent most nights wrapped in his arms, no matter where we were. pictures of me on his lap, his arms holding me to him tight, our friends laughing around us, but we were only paying attention to each other. that was the same year that he held me as i cried and whispered promises in my ear that the future distance would do nothing to us. ‘nothing’s gonna change. not for me and you. we’re invincible. we love each other too much to let anything come between us.’ he had whispered, and i believed him.

year four, we spent every waking moment we could together, because we knew the inevitable would happen and he would have to leave in the fall for his NHL debut. photos of him fishing, with me by his side and reading a book. videos of us singing in the car, our hands gripped tightly together, as though we thought the tighter we held on, the more likely it would be that we get through the eventual distance. videos his sister took of me at his debut game, screaming and bursting with pride after he recorded his first NHL point. lots of facetime screenshots and photos from my trips down to visit him in New Jersey.

and finally, i reach year five. a multitude of pictures from when i visited him for our five year anniversary in Jersey. more facetime screenshots as we endured the last few months of long distance until he finally came home for the off-season. those are quickly followed up by early morning pictures i took of him asleep in my bed. i longed for the nights that he would sleepover, and whenever he did choose to stay the night rather than driving back home, my heart would burst with contentment.

the trip down memory lane ends there. we never reached year six, just shy of five months away from it when we had our final fight. it was a month ago now that we would’ve reached that milestone, and i guess that’s when it became all too real for me. when i fell back into the tight hold of regret and i started thinking about him more often than i didn’t. thinking about him being out there somewhere, possibly moving on from me; from us; it feels like a kick to the gut.

we may have had the kind of love from movies, but if this was a movie he would’ve come back by now.

why didn’t he come back?

the thought rattles in my brain as i finally get up from my bed, deeming four in the afternoon an acceptable time to finally start my day.

i run my hands down my face, slightly surprised to pull them away with tears coating my palms. i hadn’t even realized i was crying.

i run through my usual routine lazily; brush my teeth, wash my face, brush my hair, get changed, make something to eat.

i spend most of the next few hours lounged on the couch, binge watching netflix, and another hour eating a snack and mindlessly scrolling through tiktok. and when the clock strikes nine, i do the same thing i’ve been doing for the past six months. the exact thing that my friends and family have told me is probably the reason i can’t move on; i turn on the Devils game.

they play against Carolina tonight, and i’m eager to watch Dawson continue his point streak. last night he officially hit twelve games, with twenty points within those twelve, and i fully believe that he could beat Taylor Hall’s record of nineteen straight games with a point.

however, as the game stretches on, Dawson doesn’t make a point. in fact, his entire demeanor seems off tonight and i flood with worry.

is he feeling okay?

is he feeling burnt out?

what can i do to help?

nothing. i remember. i can’t do anything to help, because he’s not mine to help anymore.

not since six months ago today.

when the game ends —with Dawson’s point streak officially ended— i make myself a quick dinner before popping some sleeping pills, forcing myself to sleep in order to avoid any more thoughts of my ex; and in my sleep drug induced haze, i vaguely remember opening my camera roll before i fall asleep, phone still in hand.

i thought he’d come back by now.

the next two weeks go by uneventfully. my days dragging on, consisting only of work, family dinners, watching Dawson’s games, and lounging in my apartment.

it’s on the fifteenth day, that my friends are able to drag me out of my bubble. coaxing me out of my apartment with the promise of free drinks and taking my mind off of my ex-boyfriend.

but despite their well meant intentions, i’m still checking my phone for the Devils vs Islanders score every few minutes.

“y/n,” Taylor starts, holding out her hand and leveling me with a disappointed glare. “give me your phone.”

“what?” i stare at her in shock, my lips resting in a parted position. “no.”

“no?” she blinks, clearly surprised by the refusal. “babes, you gotta stop checking that score. give it here.”

i hesitate, my gaze fluttering between her outstretched hand and my iphone.

“gimme,” she urges. “i’ll keep it safe. promise.”

she crosses her finger over her heart before holding her hand out again, and this time, i finally hand over the prized possession.

“i want it back when you drop me off.” i remind her, just as Kenzie comes back with a tray of shots.

“and i will totally do that, i swear.” Taylor nods.

“what are we talking about?” Kenzie chimes, sliding a shot to each of us.

“she took my phone.”

“oh good!” she grins. “i thought i was gonna have to be the bad guy and do it.”

Taylor shakes her head before raising her shot glass, Kenzie and i following suit.

“to the first time in history that we’ve all been single at the same time.” Taylor chants, and technically she’s not wrong.

since our friendship started, at the age of thirteen, at least one of us has always had a boyfriend. and for five straight years, that someone was me. but the reminder doesn’t help cheer me up, nor does it distract me from the fact that he left.

Kenzie grimaces at our friends words, shaking her head.

“what? bad toast?” Taylor asks, her nose scrunching. “sorry, hun. my bad.”

i shrug, feigning nonchalance, and we all down our shots. the burn of the liquor provides a nice distraction, taking my mind away for a moment as i focus solely on taking a sip of soda to rid myself of the taste.

“oh god, tequila?” i shudder, my face contorting in disgust, but Kenzie just laughs.

“hey! i shelled out the money for the good shit! this is no in-the-trash tequila!” she defends.

‘in-the-trash’ being a term we’ve used since we could even start drinking at nineteen, just meaning an alcohol that makes us end the night with our head in a trash can.

“all tequila is in-the-trash tequila, Kenz.” i chuckle as she hands me another shot.

“c’mon, drink up.” she grins. “we have a whole night of wild debauchery ahead of us.”

“i’m gonna be nursing a wicked hangover tomorrow, aren’t i?”

it’s hours later, nearly two in the morning, when i’m dropped off at home by an uber. i’m heavily inebriated, my head spinning and my sense of judgment completely gone.

i slump against my front door, digging through my purse to retrieve my keys, before i let myself in. i’m barely into the apartment when i strip myself of my shoes, my keys being thrown on the entryway table along with my purse, which topples over on its side.

from the sideways purse slides my phone and my brows thread together in confusion.

when was the last time i had seen that?

did Taylor put that in there when i wasn’t looking?

or had she given it back to me and i just forgot?

at the sight of the device, the entire reason it got taken from me in the first place comes rushing back. i grab the phone from the table, turning it back on as i clumsily make my way to my bedroom, slumping onto my bed.

i squint, blinking a few times at the brightness that emerges from the screen within the pitch black room. clicking into the espn app, the heart plummets as i see the final score.

Devils lose, 1-5. and maybe it’s the alcohol in my system, heightening my emotions, but my heart breaks for my ex and his team and i want nothing more than to comfort him like i used to.

so with the confidence i could only have when drunk, and no one around to stop me, i pull up his contact, clicking the call button.

it rings, on and on until it finally chimes with his voicemail, and the sound of his voice makes my heart leap in my chest.

oh how i’ve missed his voice.

it beeps again, letting me know i can leave message, and instead of hanging up, like i would with anyone else, the words spill out of my mouth.

“hi, Daws. i’m so sorry about your loss tonight. and i’m sorry about your point streak too. i really thought you could beat the record.”

tears gather at my waterline, my voice beginning to shake as my throat grows thick. this is the first time i’ve called him since that night.

“but i’m- god i’m really so mad at you. you left me, and you didn’t come back. no calls, no texts. did five years mean nothing? i know people change, and these things happen; and i know i said i didn’t wanna talk to you but- this is me officially taking it all back now, okay?”

a sob wracks my chest, and i let my tears flow freely in the comfort of my darkened bedroom.

“i just— i love you so much. and i miss you. i thought you’d come back. you can still come back, if you’d just say you’re sorry. please, come back.”

my thumb smacks down on the red button, ending the call, and i power my phone down, chucking it beside me on the bed.

my cries grow louder and i feel as though i could drown in my own tears. rolling onto my side, my body curls into the fetal position and i wrap my arms around my legs. it feels like i lay like that forever until i’m cried out, my eyelids growing heavier and heavier until i can hold them open no longer, letting myself fall asleep.

i’m woken in the morning to the sun peeking through the curtains that i seemingly forgot to close last night in my drunken stupor.

when did i get home last night?

how many drinks did i have?

stretching out my body, i sit up in my bed, reaching over to my nightstand to retrieve my phone to check the time, but it’s not there. my hands pat through the sheets, finally discovering the device on the other side of the bed, and i power it on.

my head pounds, the room spinning and light nausea flooding over me from my hangover.

i’m never drinking again.

the time on my phone reads noon, and i’m not shocked by how long i slept. considering i can barely remember anything that happened after my seventh shot last night, i’m surprised i’m not still dead to the world.

i notice some notifications, but refuse to scroll through them, not ready to face the ‘how dead are we all feeling?’ texts from my friends yet. so rather than staying on my phone, i leave it on my bed as i get up and run through my routine.

i brush my teeth before hopping in for a quick shower, hoping that it’ll help rid me of my hangover, before i get dressed and go to the kitchen to retrieve a gatorade and make myself breakfast.

i stand in front of my living room window as i drink my gatorade, peering through the glass at the gray sky. it seems that the weather is matching my gloomy mood, as it begins to pour rain from the dark clouds.

sighing, i return to my couch, turning on the tv and flipping through the channels until i get distracted by the NHL Network, which replays last nights Devils game, and i can’t convince myself to change it.

the camera pans to Dawson’s face and he looks entirely disappointed by the low score of his team.

if only i could cheer him up.

how i would love to be able to hug him again.

how i would love to see him at my front door again, like i would’ve a few years ago after a QMJHL game. when he would show up after a lost game that i couldn’t attend, and my mother would just shake her head at his appearance but ultimately smile at the way he wrapped his arms around me.

but that was then, and this is now. in an alternate reality, maybe i’m in Jersey with him right now, his head on my chest as i talk him through the loss, but in this reality, we’re broken up, and that doesn’t seem to be changing any time soon. eventually, i’ll have to accept that our lives weren’t meant to intertwine forever. time wasn’t in our favor, and fate wasn’t in our cards.

it’s four in the afternoon when a knock sounds at my door, loud and obnoxious as i try to focus on the movie that now plays on my television. grumbling to myself as i stand up, i assume it’ll be Taylor or Kenzie stopping by to check in on me after i’ve avoided their texts.

but when i open the door, time seems to freeze, and i decide my eyes must be deceiving themselves. i slam the door shut again, blinking a few times before i open it once more, but my eyes are working fine.

standing in the rain, outside of my apartment door, is Dawson.

“i— what—” i stutter, unsure of what to do or say. my heart races in my chest and i can’t decide whether i’m more nervous or excited to see him. “what are you doing here? why aren’t you in Jersey?”

“you asked me to come back.” his voice is like melted butter, just as smooth as i remembered it. his eyes accentuated by dark circles from apparent lack of sleep, but they’re still that soft brown that i’ve always loved so much, his gaze soft as he stares back at me.

“what?” confusion drips from the single word, but then the memory comes flooding back to me. getting home last night, checking the game score, calling him. “you came back… because i asked you to?”

he steps forward, and with the light from inside reflecting against his eyes and lighting up his face amongst the gray clouded skies, my heart drops. i’ve missed him so much, and now that he’s back here in front of me, i’m questioning it?

“i would do anything if you asked me to.” he speaks hesitantly. “i’m sorry, y/n.

“i’m sorry i accused you of not wanting to move with me— of not loving me enough. i let my insecurities and my fears that you would get tired of barely seeing me and leave me, get the best of me. i’m sorry i left that night without fighting to stay. fighting for us. i’m sorry that i didn’t talk to you, i thought it was what you wanted, but i see how stupid i was for that now. i’m sorry that i made you wait so long for me to come back, but i’m here now. to apologize and to get you back, because i still love you so much and i don’t know if i can take another day of not having you anymore.”

tears roll slowly down my cheeks at his words and i open the door farther, ushering him inside before i speak. my hands come up to hold his face, my eyes gazing into his.

“i’ve been waiting for you every day since you’ve been gone.” i whisper, my voice shaky. “i thought you were gone forever, and i was still waiting. because deep down i’ve always known that you are it for me, Dawson Mercer. if i didn’t have you, i didn’t want anyone else.

“i didn’t think you wanted me anymore. and some part of me accepted that, but a larger part of me just kept hoping and praying that you would come back. Daws, i would much rather spend nine months only having some of you, than forever having none of you.”

his head dips down, lips meeting mine, not even minding the salty tears that have run over my lips. kissing him again is like breathing for the first time in six months. like a natural instinct that i finally gained access to again, and when he pulls away, i pull him back down, not ready to give it up again.

finally, i pull back just enough to breath in deep, replacing the lack of oxygen in my lungs.

“i love you.” he whispers, his lips still brushing against mine, and a smile breaks out upon my face, pecking a kiss on his own small smile.

“i love you too.” i tell him, retreating to look in his eyes. “i do have a question, though.”

“anything.” he nods, prepared to answer anything i throw at him.

“are you stupid?!” i lightly smack his arm and his brows furrow in confusion. “shouldn’t you be in Jersey, practicing so you can beat the Rangers on thursday?”

he laughs, pulling my body in closer against his.

“i should.” he nods. “but i took a maintenance day, so i could win back my biggest fan. i do have to be back for practice tomorrow, but, i was hoping maybe you’d come with me.”

my heartbeat picks up at his confession and the nervous expression painted across his face after he says it, but i nod and his face lights up.

“really?” he questions, and i’m overwhelmed with excitement, nodding again.

“yeah, Daws, i’ll go anywhere with you.”

“in that case, our flight leaves in a few hours…” he grimaces and my eyes widen as i step back.

“i gotta pack. i gotta go online and put in to use my paid time off.” i freeze, dread filling my senses. “i have to tell Taylor and Kenzie i won’t make girls night for a month.”

Dawson’s head drops back in laughter before he looks back at me again, sporting a smirk. “a bit longer than that, i think you’re forgetting, we’re going to the playoffs.”

“oh my god, two months.” i stare back at him in joking horror. “oh they’re gonna hate you.”

“me? you’re the one skipping out on girls night!” he calls out, following me into my bedroom as i begin throwing clothes into a suitcase.

“yeah, but they could never hate me. you? they’ve already disliked for six months.” he shrugs, nodding at my words.

“fair enough.” he replies, helping me grab shirts off of hangers and pack them away into my suitcase. “you think they’ll ever like me again?”

i hum in thought, “i don’t know, maybe once they hear about how you flew back for only a mere few hours to apologize to me in the rain.”

“and i’d do it again.” he grins, pulling my body to his, my back against his chest. he buries his face in my neck, nipping at my skin and making me laugh.

maybe our love is like the movies, we just had to suffer through the ‘third act breakup’ in order to get to our happy ending.

#speak now fic list #dawson mercer x reader #dawson mercer imagine #dawson mercer fic #dawson mercer blurb #dawson mercer #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 13 days

Text

Fallout AU - Brotherhood of Steel

Kara is a vault dweller whose vault falls to raiders. Her parents send her to the surface to escape, but are killed before they can join her. She's left alone and lost in a harsh, cruel world. She's taken in by the brotherhood of steel just on the brink of death.

Kara is raised and trained and punished and made stronger, until one day she's selected to be anointed as a squire. She's seen knights before, and they've all been cruel and abusive with their power, all too willing to grind their heels into the backs of those beneath them.

So when she's assigned to Knight Crixus, she expects nothing different. When Crixus sears her brand into the back of Kara's neck, she braces herself for years of servitude under a cruel master... until she's granted knighthood herself.

After the anointing ceremony, five knights and their brand new squires are assigned the same mission-- locate and seize a fugitive in possession of a certain artifact. An artifact that would give control of the wastelands to whomever possesses it.

Kara hauls her lord's oversized gear bag into their assigned helicopter. Crixus mounts the transport easily in her heavy armor, leaving Kara to kip herself up on her own. Kara's expectations were right-- to a degree. She's assigned menial labor in the form of cooking, cleaning, and repairs. Meanwhile, Crixus never leaves his armor.

While searching a quadrant of their assigned grid, they discover an old hazardous waste site. There's something sinister about it, and Kara has heard enough tales of knights and their ill-fated squires to know she's expected to scout the cave before her master.

To her surprise, however, when Kara draws her sidearm and steps forward, he blocks her with a gauntleted arm.

"Wait here," he orders, the voice modulator turning it into a growl.

He levers his gatling from his back, settling it into his metal hands in a familiar grip. Then he stomps forward, his pneumatic tendons hissing with each step. Kara considers staying put, but her instincts pull her forward after her master.

They stalk into the cave, searching its corners for any sign of a threat. When they find none, Kara lowers her gun. Strange.

Only then does she notice the sudden, deathly stillness in the cave. Something was very, very wrong. She turns just as Crixus lunges for her, and catches sight of the enormous Abomination behind her before Crixus tackles her to one side. The swipe from the abomination catches steel instead of Kara's flesh.

Before Crixus can turn and ready his weapon, the abomination sinks its maw into the back of his neck and tears him away from Kara. Crixus goes flying, smacking into a tree that splinters from the impact. The abomination follows him, tackling Crixus before he can even get to his feet.

Kara scrambles up, but all she can is watch as the abomination paws and scrapes and gnaws at Crixus, as Crixus tries to punch the beast's great snout to release him. It doesn't, not until the armor suit gives a final hiss, Crixus goes still.

Only then does it turn back to Kara, stalking towards her with slow, predatory steps. Kara reaches for her sidearm, but her holster is empty. She doesn't dare cast a glance around for it, doesn't dare take her eyes from the abomination.

Heart pounding, Kara struggles to think, to come up with a plan that doesn't end with her dead. She doesn't have the time. The beast lunges, and Kara yells in panic.

In the next moment, the abomination slides to the cave floor at her feet, dead with the back of its skull missing. She finds it clenched in Crixus' fist, dripping with blood and brain matter. Then Crixus staggers, his armor smoking and whining in distress.

"Don't just stand there," Crixus growls. "Get me out of this fucking thing."

Kara can't quite reach the release, so she has to half help, half drag the knight towards the tree he'd been flung into, until he was able to slump against it. Kara quickly gets to work, all while Crixus mutters and grunts with curses.

The helmet is the first to spring open, but Kara doesn't stop to think until the rest of the suit follows. It's not until she's dragged her master from the suit and props him against the tree that she notices.... Crixus isn't a he.

"Fuck," her master says, bracing a broken arm against what can only be busted ribs. Ribs sitting below a chest that heaves for breath-- a chest that is decidedly not as male as Kara anticipated.

"Holy shit."

"Stim pack," Crixus gasps. He-- she-- nods towards the forgotten gear bag. "Stim pack, stim pack, stim pack..."

Kara shakes herself back into action. "Right! Um..."

She rifles through the gearbag until she finds the medkit, and wastes no further time in plunging the syringe into her master's neck. It takes only a few moments for the drugs to take effect, dulling the pain enough for Crixus to slump in exhaustion against the tree.

"You... you're--"

"No shit." Crixus rolls her eyes.

Kara blinks. "You saved my life."

She doesn't understand. The very concept of a knight risking anything for a squire is anathema to the Brotherhood. Knights were paramount in value-- squires were expendable. Less than expendable. There's always another page to be anointed and take her place.

"Why?"

Crixus glares at her. "You tell me, squire."

Collecting the other items from the medkit, Kara gathers a long branch and breaks it over her knee before kneeling beside the knight. She gingerly takes the woman's broken arm, and begins to fashion a splint around it.

"My name is Kara, Knight Crixus."

Green eyes regard her solemnly. Then she looks away. "Lena."

The revelation shocks Kara, that so soft a name could be ascribed to a knight so tough. She rolls it around in her mind for a short moment before her whole body jolts.

"Wait-- Lena? As in Elder Lex's sister?"

"Surprise."

#supercorp #fallout au #brotherhood of steel au #just one possible au i might run with #its the one thats burrowing in my brain anyway

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baestruly · 1 year

Text

i’m crashing down, crash into me ━━ jj maybank

❝won’t stop until you’re safe.❞

( 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 ⋫ 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖎 ) jj maybank x fem!singlemom!reader

⤷ IN WHICH, after your ex rafe━━also the dad of your son, leo after an accidental pregnancy━━threatens you and your friends if you don’t let him see his son, you get too overwhelmed with everything that you break down. but jj is willing to do anything to help and protect you and leo.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - single parent, hurt comfort, fluff, mentions of threats, panic attacks, placed in s2 sometime after he framed john b and tried to drown sarah, they are 18, rafe is 20. you and jj aren’t dating yet but the type of friends that the whole friend group thinks is bullshit because of how stupid you guys are, i’m sorry i love dynamics like that especially in slow burn.

a/n - i’m sorry to rafe lovers. this was for a fic i had planned, but scrapped so why not make some scenes that i wrote imagines. also send me requests bc currently i have none my heart is breaking.

Nothing. There’s nothing in the world as you stood in this battered kitchen. Empty, and alone.

Gone. Nothing.

Then you’re pretty sure you hear your heart crack, because it stops, and everything comes crashing down.

Whimpering as your lip quivers from the flow of tears streaming down your face━━this is the only sign that you know you’re really drowning.

Forgetting about your friends behind you, you have your back to them, hiding yourself in your hands. You have always had people there for you but you feel so alone━━as if you were the only person in the world, and you were the only person who could break yourself.

“(Y/N)━━” JJ whispers softly. You’ve never heard his voice like that, he didn’t seem like the type.

“I’m sorry━━I’m so sorry I━━no, I’m━━“

“No. No, (Y/N), you never apologize.” He shot back, concerned, before moving to face you as he held your arms in his hands. “You don’t apologize for this, alright?”

You could only shake your head. You couldn’t open your eyes and your hands were shaking.

JJ knitted his eyebrows, running his hand up your arm to your shoulder swiftly before rubbing his thumb against your bare shoulder and pulling you into him. “C’mere.”

You sobbed harder into his chest as muffled cries for help tore through your whole body. “I'm a bad mom━━I can’t do this, I can’t━━”

You couldn’t fucking do this

You were so alone, nothing.

Fuck, fuck, fuck━━you were drowning.

You couldn’t, you couldn’t.

You couldn’t!

Suddenly, JJ placed his hands on your shoulders━━backing you away from his chest so all you had left to do was stare at the ground in shame, trying to cover your red and glossy face from his view.

He placed his hands on each side of your head, lifting it as he forced you to look at him. “Yes, you can.”

You just kept shaking your head. You weren't listening or paying attention to what anyone was saying, you knew. No━━just no, you couldn’t.

He brought his face close to yours, looking into your eyes deeply, as if everything he could say could reach your brain. Your eyes scanned his face━━sadness pooling deep into those waves, just waiting to burst and form the waterfall.

“You’re strong, (Y/N). The strongest person I know.” He brought your back to his chest, and he felt your tension ease as your shoulder sagged before wrapping your arms around him.

The only response he got was a choked sob.

“What have you always done, huh? What was the one thing you told me that you promised yourself when Leo was first born?”

“But, you don’t understand.” You whispered, your voice high with emotion. “He’s going to━━”

“I know, I know━━and we’re going to help you.”

“But you can’t! Okay? You fucking can’t because my life, Leo’s, and maybe all of yours is on the line! I can’t deal with this shit━━”

JJ’s eyes suddenly widened. “What’d you mean?”

Surprised you let all that anger take over yourself, you blinked as if they could take back all those words. Instead, you let out a sigh and wiped the tear falling down your face.

You could do this.

Just tell him, he trusts you, (Y/N).

“I know he’s his dad, and I never want to keep him away from him━━but he’s just not fit enough to be one━━Y’know? It’s just, like it’s just about the thought of being one, but where was he these past few years! I was just raising him alone, and he hadn’t tried to contact me or find me, nothing━━he didn’t give to shits!” You swallowed the thick lump in your throat. Your voice was cracking and you were afraid you were going to break down again. The smallest touch would affect you now. “And now━━now he’s threatening me, and you guys━━and my dad, my house━━” yep, there it was, the tears. “And I'm scared. I'm so scared, i'm so━━”

Your shaken voice stopped as JJ pulled you in for a hug again, and the one of a million barriers crashed down behind your eyes.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, or Leo. None of us will let that happen.”

“He knows stuff, JJ━━he knows about everything we’ve done and he’s going to use that against us.”

He continued rubbing your back, sending shivers down your spin as your stomach swelled with the oh too familiar feeling of butterflies. “Well we have something against him too, right?”

You knitted your eyebrows against his chest, before stepping back to look him in the eyes. “What?”

“Just give me a day, I’ll get it sorted out.” JJ squeezed your shoulder, and was about to head for the door until━━

“━━Hey! What are you going to do? That’s Leo’s dad, remember━━”

“I’m not going to hurt him, not too bad. Shit━━but I am gon’ make sure he doesn’t lay a finger on you, or Leo.”

With that, he spun on his heel and ran out the door, leaving you alone━━but you didn’t feel like you did before. JJ was there and so were your friends, you lost sight of that.

It only needed JJ to get you back up again, and to help you find the way when you were starting to get lost. Only this time, it hadn’t been too late.

thanks for reading! request anything for any character in my masterlist

masterlist jj maybank masterlist

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gyuletters · 8 months

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📼 𖥔 ݁ ˖★ UNCONSCIOUSLY .ᐟ | YEONJUN

gn!reader ، wc: 2.1k ، genre: f2l, a bit of angst ، tw: suggestive but nothing too explicit.

who could know that love was waiting right in front of you after so many years?

you never thought of him as much more than a best friend. a guy who makes you laugh the loudest. the one who would sit across from you and steal little glances as you talked to the other 4 boys. the guy who would put his arms around your shoulders when a weird man tried something. the one who was always there when you needed it. the guy who dried your tears when your heart broke into pieces.

he was always there. but in your head, yeonjun was nothing more than a good best friend.

as time went by, you found yourself unconsciously falling a little deeper and deeper. falling into a rabbit hole where no one but him could pull you out of it. friends to lovers... so cliché, isn’t it?

with his lips on yours right now, you can’t help but ask yourself if it’s okay to want more. to make him yours and never let him go. would this be a one time thing? did he feel the way you changed around him? were you two willing to risk your friendship for just a feeling?

you break the kiss and yeonjun looks at you confused.

“do you really want this?” - your voice above a whisper. - “do you really want this, yeonjun? because there is no way back now.” you look at him seriously.

“what do you mean, y/n?” he smirks and laughs a little. urgh! he knows how to make you fall on his knees.

“it’s just that i-... i love you, yeonjun…” - you say covering your face with your hands. - “god, yeonjun! i’m in love with you!” your chest feels lighter, like screaming those words out were everything you ever needed.

“i hate to feel this way about you!” - you continue. - “you’re my best friend, oh my god! you aren’t just a random guy that i think it’s cute. NO! you are my best friend! and i’m so so stupid to even think that way about you.” tears start forming in your eyes. would it be even more pathetic if you start crying?

honestly, you just can’t help it. expressing your feelings was never something easy and yeonjun knows it very well. even when you want to cry, maybe he's even thinking you’re going crazy right now.

in response, yeonjun kisses you. but this time deeper, lustier, taking every breath out of you two.

has he been waiting for this too?

“god, y/n. you’re gonna make me go crazy.” - the stupid smirk on his lips again. - “you didn’t knew, right? you never really noticed the way i was just holding myself back from you, right?”

his lips coming closer to your ear. his breath so warm, your whole body starts to light up. you're sure he can just make you combust right now.

“but there’s no need for it anymore, right? cause you want me too.”

★ taglist: @impureperhaps @sunoooism @itgirlgyu

★ status: taglist and requests currently open! send me an ask or comment to be added.

#͏͏ ͏͏ ͏͏.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏© glettrs official ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏!!#tomorrow x together #txt #txt x reader #txt fic #txt fluff #txt suggestive #txt angst #choi yeonjun #yeonjun #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fic #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun angst #yeonjun suggestive

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writingintheshadowsforever · 9 months

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Imagine Abby thinking you sacrificed your live to save hers

Abby took slow steps towards the edge of the same cliff she'd watched. You throw yourself over just a few seconds ago followed by at least twenty to thirty runners and clickers. She counted each second after that in her head waiting to catch a glimpse of your hand appearing at the top.

Five went by and still there was no sign you somehow managed to pull off the impossible. Abby didn't believe in God or praying, but she was willing to try anything right now. If it would bring you back to her in one piece. She dropped to her knees just a foot short of the edge taking a fistful of her own jacket. Tears clouded her vision as a guttural scream ripped free from her throat. A cry. A desperate plea to the heavens above for a miracle.

Abby refused to believe you were truly gone. She was never good at being open with her feelings, but it got even worse after the death of her father. After losing him Abby shut down completely leading to her break-up with Owen, and months of isolation from her friends. It took a year for the other wolves to get her to warm up to them after her and Owen joined up with the group.

But you were the one who slipped past her defenses right into her heart. Every single wall Abby built to stop herself from ever falling for someone so hard. To the point where the mere thought of losing them made her to curl up in a ball, and cry. Crumbled in your presence until just the sight of you smiling at her caused a red tint to coat her cheeks.

She had a bad feeling about this particular patrol when Issac gave her the location. He was sending the two of you to search making sure it was still clear of infected. An old rotting building the wolves used as a main outpost at once, until the Seraphites pushed them back. But in the past couple of months the WLF were able to gain some ground in the ongoing war, and this was one of the areas. They had managed to regain control over, and Issac wanted to establish dominance now while he had the chance. The building had way too many entry points Abby could see for a mile away. Instead of deciding to turn back and return with a bigger group. She led you into the infected death trap where the two of you were separated. When the horde descended out of nowhere, and a few moments later out of ammo armed with just her fists. Abby found herself cornered about to be devoured.

You came out of nowhere dropping out of a hole in the ceiling right behind the horde. Without hesitation you drew them in shooting your gun into the air. The shots ranging out drew every single last one of them away from her, and then you tore out of the building still shooting. They followed with growls and rumbling moans.

Abby took down as many as she could, but without a viable weapon there was nothing she could do to help you.

Now you were gone and would never the truth about how she felt about you. You were dead because of her. The image of you being caught in the mob of infected while falling to your death flashed through her mind. Abby fell over resting her forehead on the in the freezing snow as a sob racked through her body. She just hoped you had a quick death, and felt no pain. You deserved better.

So caught up on in grieving your death the usual always on alert wolf didn't pick up. On the sound of a pair of footsteps approaching her in almost frantic run. Nor did she register your voice or your hands gripping both sides of her face. Pulling her upright to face you, and it was then when her blue eyes bored into your own soft ones wide with worry. She realized you were still alive, and the water works got even worse.

"Abby what's wrong? Did one of them bite you? Abby please tell me you're not infected after what I just went through. Abbs talk to me" You pleaded with your best friend. Your hands fell from her face to search the rest of her body looking for any tears in her clothing, and a bite mark. Thankfully you found none, but it still made no sense to you why she was crying so hard.

"Abby hey its okay I'm here" You whispered brushing a few strands of light brown hair out of her face. Leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her forehead as your arms wrapped her shoulders. Abby clung to you as the sobbing began to subside.

Eventually Abby recovered enough to pull away from your embrace. The next thing she did baffled you more than anything. Before you could get to your feet your body was sprawled out in the snow. You looked up at the muscular girl a mixture of confusion and anger dancing in your eyes. She had shoved you onto your back, and it wasn't a playful shove either. Abby meant it with hurtful intent.

"What the hell was that for?" You snapped propping yourself up on your elbows. Abby towered over you her bottom lip quivering.

"You nearly got yourself killed idiot" she shouted.

"Yeah and I saved your damn life in the process. A thank you would be nice." You replied back not holding back your own attitude. This wasn't an argument you intended to lose.

"I never asked you to do that" Abby shot back.

"The alternative would've been watching you die. Would you had rather I'd done that?"

"Yes anytime you have to choose between saving me or yourself. You choose yourself I'm not worth dying for y/n" she yelled jabbing a finger at you. Her rage no longer hidden beneath the surface anymore. It had broke free letting you see she wasn't just upset by your actions, but genuinely angry.

You were on your feet now. "That's bull Abby for some many reasons, but even if I wanted too. I couldn't what kind of partner would that make me?"

" I don't care about any of that y/n. I only care about you okay" She gripped you by your forearms bringing your body to hers. You wouldn't have been able to resisted if you wanted. "You're not just a friend to me okay, you're so much more than that. I-" Abby paused short of finishing what you both knew she was about to say.

But once those words were spoken there was no going back, and Abby wasn't ready for that this whole situation had gotten out of control. More than she ever wanted to and the only thing she could do now to make sure things stayed normal between you and her was walk away.

So that's exactly what she did.

Abby released her hold on your arms letting you step back from her. Both of you were breathing heavily as you regarded her with sympathy and curiosity.

"Just don't do anything dumb like that again okay. You're a one of our best. We can't afford to lose you" Abby murmured. Then she turned around and started walking back towards the outpost.

I can't afford to lose you

She hadn't said it but you heard it along with the underlying tone of softness in her voice. Abby Anderson was in love with you.

You were sure of it now, and she was going to admit to you one way or another.

#abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou2 #tlou2 x reader

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mikeysw1fey · 8 months

Text

disgraceful…

request linked here

pairing: max fox x female reader

warnings: homophobia, Maxs dad (a warning in itself)

a/n: i changed the request slightly, i hope that’s ok. my apologies if u don’t like it :)

Hot.

That’s all I can think as Maxs hands roam my waist keeping me situated on her lap, her lips pressed passionately onto my own as my hands run through her hair. Pulling back to breathe I smile brightly at seeing Maxs doe eyes staring up at me. “Your so hot baby.” I sigh leaning down to kiss her cheek softly.

Max’s cheeks flush red. Her lips are swollen slightly and her eyelids are slightly heavy. “Shut up.” She whispers moving one hand up to my face to tilt my head back so her lips can attach to my neck.

“Oh yes-“

“MAX.”

The two of us are fast to leap away from one another, one of my hands moving to cover the hickey Max had definitely just given me and the other attends to my ruffled hair and clothes.

After taking care of the mess I am I look up to the doorway to see Sam (Maxs mum) and a man I hadn’t seen before standing slightly aghast.

“Dad?” Max frowns. I glance over to my girlfriend to see her jaw clench in annoyance as he waves sheepishly. “Xanders staying for dinner apparently so hurry your asses down here.” Sam grins, her right eye twitching ever so slightly.

“Right be down in a sec.” Max replies shoving both her parents out her room and closing the door behind her.

As the door closes Max glances at me, her face one of pure irritation. “Are you fucking with me? He comes over today? On our anniversary and has the audacity to stay for fucking dinner.” She begins pacing the room, hands tugging at her hair.

“Hey Max. Baby. Calm down.” I immediately pause her pacing as I stand before her grasping at her wrists. “I know it’s annoying but once we have dinner we can come back up to your room and watch movies and lay together ok? Just get through dinner.” I lean in and kiss her forehead allowing her to inhale deeply and nod.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Heading down the stairs, nausea washes over me at the thought of Max’s father waiting for our entrance. Even though I know he won’t be around often I can’t help but want him to like me, for Max’s sake.

“Took you long enough.” Frankie’s quick to remark with a roll of their eyes as Max and I take our seats beside one another at the table. “Shut up.” Max retorts causing Sam to glare at both of them.

An awkward silence encompasses the table as everyone not so subtly glances at the girls father who seems blissfully unaware of the tension he is causing.

“So are you two best friends?” Xander asks gesturing between myself and Max with his fork, his eyebrows twitching slightly. “No. This is my girlfriend, Y/N.” Max replies rather harshly causing my hand to reach for her own under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Ah.” Max’s father remains silent, tearing his eyes from the two of us and over to Duke.

As he attempts a conversation with the youngest sister I glance over at Max to find her stabbing at her food. “Did the food do something to you?” I smirk towards the curly haired girl who sends me a glare. “Shut up.” She replies sulkily, her curls falling in front of her face. I sigh softly knowing she doesn’t mean what she’s saying.

“Baby, it’s going well.” I whisper reaching over to tuck her hair behind her ears. The action causes Max’s lips to curve up slightly as she tilts her head at me, mouth open to reply.

“Let’s not do that at the dinner table.” Xanders voice is laced with disgust as he grips his fork rather harshly. “Do what exactly?” Sam asks with a condescending tilt of her head.

“You know what I mean.” He grimaces gesturing circles around Max and I. “And what do you mean exactly?” I ask with faux confusion, not willing to let him ruin Max and I’s anniversary because he can’t handle lesbians. “Spit it out.” Max snaps, her eyes narrowed as she glares at her dad.

“It’s not natural ok? Is that what you want to hear?” Xander scoffs slamming his fist against the table, the cluttering of cutlery causing both Duke and Frankie to flinch. I can feel the tightness of my jaw as I eyeball him, his hands shaking with what could be rage or anxiety or both.

Tension fills the air, so thick I feel like I’m choking. Everyone’s eyes remain on Xander as he remains unashamed, his own eyes staring daggers into Max’s.

“Get the fuck out.” Sam abruptly stands up from her seat and points to the door. “It’s one thing to not see your daughters ever, but to come into our house and discriminate against them.” She let’s out a breath before inhaling again. “Get the fuck out before I drag you myself.” She seethes, her veins in her hands popping so hard I fear they may explode.

Xander hesitantly rises to his feet, his eyes falling to the floor as shame runs through him. My hand reaches for Max’s, squeezing it gently as tears flow down her cheeks.

Xanders shame turns back to fury at our interaction, his shoulders squaring at the two of us. “Disgraceful.” He spits at Max, who inhales deeply and looks away from the man. “You heard Sam.” I manage to say, a frown forming on my brow as his sour expression turns to me. “Don’t speak to me you-you fag.” He snaps before turning on his heel and heading towards the front door, slamming it loudly on his way out.

Maxs facade finally breaks, her shoulder crumbling as she sobs heavily. Sam pouts rushing over to hug her daughter, Frankie and Duke not far behind, a few stray tears falling down their cheeks.

“Hes not welcome back here.” Sam whispers pressing a kiss to Max’s head before glancing over at me. “Are you ok sweetie?” She asks reaching over Max to extend a hand to stroke my hair and cup my cheek. I nod, jaw clenched. “I’ve had worse said to me.”

Sam chuckles lightly before pulling away from Max. “Come on girls, give them some space.” Frankie and Duke pull away and leave the kitchen but not before giving me one last hug.

“Look after her.” Frankie frowns glancing at Max who sniffles slightly. “Of course.” I smile letting Frankie go and moving my chair closer to Max as it becomes only the two of us.

“I’m here Max. I’m not going anywhere.” I whisper leaning forwards to pull her into my chest. Maxs arms wrap tightly around my waist, her head burying itself in my neck. “He hated me. That look on his face.” She shudders in my hold and continues to sob.

I bite my lip trying to ward off my own tears. Pressing my lips against her hair I shake my head. “He doesn’t hate you baby, he will need time to process and if he can’t then your better off without him.”

Max pulls her head out of my neck so she can look me in the eyes. “I adore you.” She whispers giving me a teary smile. My hands reach up to cup her cheeks, wiping the stray tears as I return her smile. “I adore you too.” I reply leaning forwards to place a kiss on her nose. “You don’t deserve the cruelness the word can bring.” I sigh gently tracing patterns along her jaw with my thumb.

Maxs lower lip trembles and juts out slightly, a tell tale sign she was about to cry again. “I love you baby.” I whisper pressing my lips to hers in an attempt to kiss her pout away.

It works as I feel her smile against my lips. Breaking our kiss she pulls away again to place her hands in mine.

“I love you too.”

#wlw post #lesbian #fluff #mikey madison #max fox #max fox x reader #mikey madison x female reader

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

Running from the Flames {27}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, wedding bells are ringing. F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Australia 2024

“Hey Christian,” I greeted nervously as I sat in the master bedroom of our hotel suite, hoping Pierre was too busy playing with Addie in her room to overhear the phone call. “I was wondering if you remember making me a certain promise some 15 years ago?”

The Red Bull principal chuckled. “That depends, I don’t have a spare seat.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” I rushed to clarify. “Pierre is very happy at Alpine. I was wondering if you could put me in touch with one of the Red Bull artistic pilots. I know I’m hoping for a miracle but it’s for a top secret mission on Saturday after the wedding.”

“Colour me intrigued. I’ll make some calls and see who’s available at such short notice.”

I thanked him before bidding farewell and sending out a prayer that Christian could help because I hadn’t been able to get this idea out of my head for two days. Knowing there was nothing else to be done until Christian called back, I focused on the paperwork in front of me. Mum had sent through the documents for Addie’s new birth certificate and I slipped it into the folder with our marriage certificate that the celebrant needed on the big day.

It was like the stars had aligned and everything I thought I would never have was coming into fruition. Just thinking about how far I had come and how happy I was brought tears to my eyes and I swiped them away before they could fall on the important paperwork.

“Mon ange?” I looked up from the bed and found Pierre crossing the room, concern written on his face. “What’s wrong?”

I held my hand out reaching for him, the sapphire engagement ring glinting under the chandelier, and he quickly took it as he climbed onto the bed.

“Nothing’s wrong,“ I promised with a sniffle. “I love you so much and you make me so happy.”

“Then why are you crying?” he asked softly, catching a stray tear with his thumb.

“Because I’m happy.”

“I’m confused,” he admitted as wrapped me in his arms. “That’s twice this week I’ve found you in tears.”

“I know, baby. It’s just the closer we get to the wedding I find myself thinking about us and how much things have changed. You have made my life infinitely better, and Addie’s too.” Another wave of emotion washed over me and more tears spilled down my cheeks. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

“Three days,” he said with a growing smile. “It seems so close yet so far.”

I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day as I stood at the edge of the rooftop garden and looked at the city sprawling below. The sun was beginning its descent and the thousands of twinkling fairy lights came to life as a pair of arms curled around my waist and Pierre’s trimmed beard tickled my neck and he kissed my racing pulse.

“What’s on your mind, Mrs Gasly?”

I smiled at the name and turned in his arms so I could kiss my husband and tasted the subtle notes of the champagne he had used as a toast during our speeches.

“How perfect this moment is,” I answered as I draped my arms around his neck and we gently swayed to the music playing at the other end of the roof. “I needed a moment to make sure it was real.”

I could still feel the weight of the fountain pen in my hand, remember the strokes of the nib across the papers and the sight of my signature next to his. Husband and wife, mother and father. They were the two most important documents I had ever signed and I had trouble pushing away the memory of the marriage and birth certificate because they had made me unbelievably happy.

“There they are,” Pierre said with a chuckle as he wiped away the tears that snaked down my cheek. “I wondered when they would show.”

A small laugh bubbled up and it had been surprising that I had been able to make it through our vows without crying. I had been blinking furiously, not willing to have anything blur the memory of Pierre standing in front of me, his steady hand holding my trembling one as he slipped the wedding band onto my finger.

“Thank you,” I mouthed as my voice failed me.

“You can thank me with another dance, darling wife,” he said when he was satisfied no more stray tears were going to escape and he offered his elbow. “I am never going to get tired of calling you my wife.”

I looped my arm in his and we turned our backs to the city lights. “And I am never going to get tired of hearing it, dear husband.”

“Adelaide Mirabella Gasly, no running.”

“You’re not meant to smile when you growl her,” Granny chided softly as she zipped your departing dress up, her head tilting slightly as it caught slightly at the small of your back before gliding up.

“I can’t help it,” I huffed, still unable to stop smiling at her new surname. “I didn’t know it was possible to feel this happy. It’s like I need to scream it to the world or I’m going to explode.”

“Remember this feeling, sweetie,” Granny said as she patted my cheek. “Marriage isn’t easy and it won’t always be happy chappy. Remember this feeling, so you know what you are fighting for when it gets hard.”

I took her hands in mine, giving them a small squeeze. “Not exactly the advice I thought I would get on my wedding day.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Take it from someone who has been married four times, it may not give you butterflies but it is practical.”

“I think the fact you have been married four times means I shouldn’t take your advice, Granny.”

She pinched my cheek at the comment before stepping away with a laugh. “You’re 100% right, I’m older but certainly not wiser. Now go enjoy your honeymoon - may it be your one and only.”

I wrapped Addie in my arms after finally catching her running through the living room with Pierre hot on her tail, her wedding cake sugar high well and truly setting in. “I love you, baby girl. We will see you in two sleeps, okay?”

“I want to come,” she grumbled for the millionth time as I put her back on the ground, her bottom lip quivering.

“We will go on a family trip after the race,” Pierre promised as he knelt down at her height. “Anywhere you want, just the three of us.”

He held out his pinky and she wrapped hers around it. “Where’s Sydney?”

My heart nearly leapt out of my chest as I looked at Pierre. “Where did you hear that?”

“It was on the tv,” she said with a shrug. “There was a zoo.”

“Oh, it’s a city a few hours away from here. Do you want to go there?”

She nodded happily and Pierre promised to take her to the zoo, so long as she promised to behave for her grandparents who would be looking after her while we went away for a short honeymoon.

Everyone was still on the rooftop bar, dancing and singing to the music Danny Ricciardo was playing after talking the DJ into letting him have a go. They would likely keep partying for hours yet but me and Pierre would continue with our own celebration at a luxury villa on a private beach out of the city. I could already hear the helicopter coming in to land on the helipad across from the reception area.

A cheer rose from the crowd as they formed two lines and tossed handfuls of rose petals and rice over us, the grains slipping down my cleavage for Pierre to find later. We had already thanked our friends and family before leaving to get changed but I still stopped to squeeze my mum's hand and then dads as we made our way along.

The helicopter whipped Pierre’s hair around but mine was pinned down tight and my giggle was lost to the wind as he unsuccessfully tried to hold it down before helping me step up into it. We surged into the air and the pilot tilted the chopper so we could see our guests waving goodbye before we disappeared into the night, our first night as husband and wife.

“Ready, Mrs Gasly?” Pierre asked over the headset as he took my hand, his thumb running along the wedding band he had placed on my finger.

“Siempre, Mr Gasly.”

Media Day in Melbourne

We hadn’t even taken five steps into the paddock after scanning our passes when our presence was announced.

“Paaaapi Chuuuulllooooo!” Daniel shouted across the paddock, drawing the attention of the reporters who he had been chatting to about racing on his home track again. “And Mrs Papi Chulo.”

“No, Danny, hard no,” I said with a cringe. “Keep the perverted names to Peirre only, please.”

He pouted playfully before going back to his interview and I left Pierre to sign a few hats, taking Addie’s hand and making our way to Alpine’s hospitality. All along the way friends and strangers alike gave us their well wishes for a long and happy marriage as they admired the pair of rings on my finger.

Thankfully it didn’t take long for Pierre to catch up since he had a busy day with interviews booked between the two free practice times. He reached me with the assistance of a quick jog just as Addie spotted Otmar and had darted off after him and a big smirk was plastered on his face.

“So, no Mrs Papi Chulo,” he confirmed with a laugh when I slapped his ribs lightly. “I was just checking.”

“That’s a no from me,” I confirmed with a droll stare that turned to a smirk as I bit my lip. I stepped closer and rose to my tiptoes so I could whisper in his ear since there were always microphones nearby in the paddock. “But you can call me mamacita.”

Pierre caught my hips and stopped me from the quick retreat I had been planning. “Uh-uh, where do you think you’re going, mamacita?”

I smirked as I recognised the look in his eyes and pressed your body flush to his. “To get you an ice bath, dear husband. It feels like you might need one.”

“Dieu me donne la force,” he muttered under his breath, his fingers slipping as I stepped away.

“You are going to be late, Mr Gasly,” I said as I pointed to the countdown for the first free practice. “And you still need to get dressed out of those tight clothes.”

He bit his lip and I knew it was to hold back a witty remark but I was right, he was late and as soon as free practice was over then it was straight into the media frenzy. “I’ll get you back for this, Mrs Gasly,” he warned with a smirk before taking off into a jog again.

“I look forward to it!”

The crowd for Pierre’s media time slot was busier than usual, with dozens of signs of support waving about for him - or at least the nickname Danny had popularised. Still, I loved seeing them all there cheering for my husband as I waited on the stage with today’s reporter, Lydia. As usual, Pierre was running a little late and skidded to a stop on the stage at seeing me on the red lounge suite set up.

“Here he is!” Lydia gushed, earning a cheer and round of applause. “Come, come, take a seat and get comfortable. Today is special because we have a fun little game that your wife has put together.” Pierre looked giddy when Lydia said ‘wife’ and he looked my way as I bounced my knees nervously. “Have you seen your wedding photos yet?”

Pierre grinned as he picked up his microphone. “Yes, we received a few teasers this week and, wow, they are amazing.”

“I have a few here today, but I’m told these ones you haven’t seen yet.” A quiet ‘ohhh’ rose from the crowd. “Your task is to figure out just how many Gasly’s are in each photo.”

Pierre’s brows pinched in confusion as the first photo was shown and he looked over the rim of his sunglasses at the image.

The Palais Theatre had made a beautiful backdrop for some black and white images and in the picture Pierre had curled his arm around my waist, cradling me back into an elegant dip. Little did he know that out in the sea of seats his brothers had been hidden and they stepped out into the aisle to mimic the move with Phillipe dipping Paul. They were both grinning like fools and it was a miracle that they had kept quiet before hiding once again.

A burst of laughter erupted from Pierre as he looked into the crowd and spotted his brothers with the rest of our families. “I’m actually lost for words,” he admitted as he shook his head. “I don’t think they even dipped their wives at their weddings.”

“So how many Gasly’s are there in the photo?” Lydia prompted and he scanned it again to see if anyone else was hiding.

“Four,” he answered confidently before the next photo appeared.

This time it was one from under the starting lights on the grid. After we had taken a few pictures with just the two of us, Addie had joined us and she sat on Pierre’s shoulders while reaching for the five red lights above. It was then that Pascale and Jean-Jacques had stood up from where they were hiding on the bridge that spanned the grid width, both copying Addie’s excited pose.

“Five,” he said with a chuckle after scanning the picture twice to make sure there weren't any more hidden and turning to me. “How did you manage this?”

“With difficulty,” I admitted, getting more anxious by the second.

“Halfway there,” Lydia cheered and the second to last photo appeared.

It was down on the lakefront of Albert Park and we were facing each other, smiling brightly as the sun shimmered on the water's surface. While we were so focused on each other, a few faces had peered out from where they were hidden behind the trees in the park and two bystanders sitting on a park bench reading the local newspaper folded them up.

Another burst of laughter erupted from Pierre as he pointed out his mother and father as well as Adelaide and two of her cousins in the trees, then his brothers on the park bench. “Nine.”

The photo changed and my stomach did a little flip as his brows pinched together again. At first glance it looked the same as the last photo, all the extra Gasly’s still in the park. But something had changed.

The photographer had done so well to distract Pierre long enough for the surprise to be completed and Pierre had complained at how long the ‘perfect’ photo had taken. Now he saw the final image and he wasn’t the only one to be surprised.

“What the?” he exhaled as he saw the writing in the sky and pulled his sunglasses down to get a closer look.

Christian had pulled through and his friends at Red Bull Air Racing had been happy to help make my idea come to life without even knowing the meaning behind it. To anyone else the word neatly scrawled across the blue Mebourne sky would probably cause confusion but to Pierre it meant everything.

Sydney

I had been biting my lip as he stared at the word, the crowd silent as they waited for an explanation. “Now how many Gasly’s are in the photo?”

“Ten,” he rasped, his throat thick with emotion as he licked his lips and reached over to me, his hand coming to rest low on my stomach. “Tu es enceinte?”

“Yeah,” I whispered as I placed my hand over his. “We’re having a baby.”

Click here for chapter twenty eight.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover

#pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly x poc!oc #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #f1 imagine

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alexanderlightweight · 1 year

Note

babe i loved this song and the lyrics and the prompts and i hope you know that i'm going to have to come back to this. STOP SENDING MY STUFF THAT TURNS INTO WIPS (i'm joking dont stop please, because just my luck they'd pretend to take me seriously)

lumine

Alec kneels in the dirt of the graveyard and bows his head. Behind him, Jace hisses and steps back, pulling Fray with him.

“What, what’s going on?” Fray asks, interrupting his

“Alec, come on buddy. Not here, not like this.” Jace mutters, something almost worried in his voice, as if he knows that Alec has every right to kneel and pray.

“I pray to the hunter,” Alec vows, because he does not worship Raziel, he worships those who came before, the shadowhunters who died and bled and spilled their blessed gift in defense of the world. “For those who came first, I pray to your bones, to the dirt that claimed your flesh.”

Jace hisses and there is a sound of struggle and muffled voices and then he leaves, far enough that Fray won’t interrupt something this sacred.

Alec digs his fingers into the dirt and feels the sleeping magic of hundreds of deaths and he reaches for it, opening his soul in a way that few are able and willing to do. “I pray to the cold frost, to winter, to the bones of our dead. I offer my service, to death and decay.”

Something moves, far under the earth and Alec reaches deeper, the hard soil parting like sand beneath his grasping hands and something solid and firm pushes up into his waiting grasp.

Alec smiles, a dark and devout smear of violence across his face.

He pulls out a bow made of bone, the bleached whiteness of it gleaming in the light of the moon a soft silver and when he reaches down again, adamas tipped bone arrows fletches with the feathers of lost nephilim offer themselves to him.

Alec bows his head, letting tears fall in gratitude and feeling them freeze on his face as he cuts his lip on an adamas arrowhead and bends, pressing his lips to the now frozen and solid ground.

“I thank the fallen.” He whispers, blood thick on his tongue and his lips coated with grave dirt, “guide me on my way.”

Alec stands, his quiver full and his bow strung with hair from a dead nephilim. When he reaches Fray and Jace, Isabelle is with them, her face a shade paler under the moonlight and her eyes wide as she watches him. She doesn’t offer to wipe the blood and dirt from his face, she knows better, and she clenches her jaw, and her hand goes to her wrist, as if she finally realizes how far they’ve pushed him.

Alec saves his prayers for when he needs them, that he feels he needs to now, is a sign that they have overstepped. That Alec doesn’t consider this a simple, under the armory mission. No one will be able to sanction Alec for his actions now, but the same is not true for Izzy and Jace, and he’s drawn a very clear line of how much he’s about to allow.

“What is it made of?” Fray asks, voice too close and she reaches out, as if she’s going to touch the bow and Alec reacts with a move of his hand, snapping her wrist before she can touch it and he grins as she screams.

A sharp, brutal cry that echoes the breaking of her bones.

“Do not.” Is all he says and when she backs up, sniffling and looking at Jace for help and protection, Alec smirks. “You’ve already run her once, Jace. Don’t let me stop you now.”

Jace swallows and nods, because Alec snapping her wrist is far less bad than what the bones of those Alec worships would have done.

For someone who is not in service to them to touch, to covet, to try and take, Fray would have possibly lost her entire hand if not her life.

#writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #lumine writes #my fics #shadowhunters #shadowhunters au #malec #alec lightwood

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hiddenlife-manager · 2 years

Text

The Mirror

Law x Fem!Reader

Deadass is Kind of shitty. I had this idea suddenly while doing this biotech boot camp. So when I was waiting for my ride I wrote it and posted it.

Please support me! (PS) If you do end up sending money. If it doesn't work tell me because no one has donated yet so I can't tell if it works. Buy me a Coffee

Porn with very little fucking plot! Extra: SoftDomLaw, Subreader, praise kink, nipple play, dirty talk, mirror sex, squirting

Minors DNI, Ageless blogs DNI, Once you open this you understand what will be shown.

"You're doing great." He grunts as he held your nipple in his hands he made you and him sit in front of a mirror. You cried out for him to just put his dick in you. You orgasmed already once just by him playing with your nipples.

"You're soo slutty willing to leave me for one other man. You aren't going to cheat right?" He let go of your nipple and grabbed your face to look at him. Tears were fresh on your face as you shook your head and he couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't know a slut like you is just calling for men to stick a dick up your ass." You shook your head and ass you did he lifted your entire figure as if you were a feather. He slammed you down on his cock. You cried out from the sudden sensation he seemed to love playing with you.

"Too bad you prefer vaginal sex!" He slammed into you the sound of his balls hitting your ass so harshly it made you cry out once again. he snaked his hand up around you gripping your chin with one and forcing you to bounce up and down his cock he made sure you saw yourself.

"Look at you, you love looking at yourself riding my cock." He grunts as he slams up and your mouth falls agape as he lets you cry out in pleasure. He could care less if anyone saw or heard him. Everyone left anyway so it wasn't even in his mind.

"Law!" You yelled out and he chuckled he quickly pulled out of you as you beg for him to go back in he shook his head. You just wanted to feel the sensation of Law pounding into you as your tits bounced from the motion you couldn't understand why he stopped your mind was blinded by nothing but lust.

"Wrong name." You held onto him tightly just wanting to feel him again your body shook for need.

"Law!" He pinched your nipples as you cried out by the pain and pleasure.

"Wrong name whore." You took a minute and the longer it took he twisted your nipple having you start to not be able to say anything.

"S- sir, Sir! Sir, please just let me cum again, please." You ended up begging and he chuckled his hands that were on your nipples lifted causing another moan to leave your lips. He kissed your lips deeply he held your neck as he did he pushed you down onto the wooden floorboard.

"Your wish is my command." He quickly grabbed your chin and forced you to still look into the mirror. "Watch yourself. Do me the favor and make this mirror worth its purchase." All you could do is nod eagerly. He opened your legs and placed you in a mating press as he slowly entered you having a drawn-out moan come from you and a small grunt from him. With that your pussy molded to fit him just right as he entered and reentered to see that you wanted him.

At the moment he thought you were ready he sped his pace up fucking you. Hitting the right spot as you could feel yourself reach the point of tears. He held your head to look at the mirror and if you looked away he forced your head once again to look at it.

Your breasts bounced as he forced your body to go up and down on the floor. In a matter of minutes, you started to feel a build-up of pressure.

"Sir, Sir! I'm so close!" He kept with the speed and placed his fingers on your clitoris and rubbed it in a couple of seconds a clear liquid left you as you cried out in so much pleasure your legs shook by the pressure suddenly being released and in one or two more thrusts he let himself out of you and came on your stomach. The floor was covered in the liquid and he was too.

"Now, you better not let that idiot ever touch you." He said his tattooed hand holding your chin once more.

"I promise. Besides Luffy, he could never think about this." You couldn't help but chuckle as he lowered himself and placed his soft lips on you once more.

#law x reader #fanfic #anime scenarios #x reader #anime #anime imagines #oneshot #law trafalgar #law smut #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece law #one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #law x y/n #Trafalgar d water law smut #fanfiction

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soul-controller · 2 years

Note

I'm thinking of dressing up as a hockey player this year...

Ooh, that’s an interesting choice for a Halloween costume! Given the fact that I’m not too well-versed in the hockey realm, I’m certainly willing to help you get the perfect uniform.

While you were busy sleeping after sending in that ask, I was hard at work doing some intense research about the hunkiest players in the NHL. Although there were certainly countless hunks that I could turn you into like Tyler Seguin, I found myself intensely drawn to the Washington Capitals player Tom Wilson. I mean, can you truly blame me when he is the literal embodiment of a tall, dark, and handsome man! With that gorgeous, bearded face of his along with that 6’4” stature, I feel like that’s the perfect body for anyone, but especially a hockey fan like you!

Upon waking up the next morning and seeing a message from me saying that your costume wish had been granted, you excitedly ran towards your front door. Unfortunately, the package hadn’t arrived yet, so your original hype was destroyed for the next few hours as you were forced to get ready and head out to do your assorted tasks of work or potential school courses. By the time you finally returned home later in the evening though, you were relieved to walk up to your doorstep and find my package waiting for you.

Smiling as you picked up the package before unlocking your door and heading inside, you wasted no time tearing it open as you headed back into your place. For years, you had loved hockey and always dreamed of playing it, but your lack of coordination on ice skates completely obliterated that possibility. As such, the concept of dressing up as a hunky player was the best you could do to live out that fantasy… until now.

After cutting open the box and pulling out a replica jersey, you immediately took off your shirt and began to put on the jersey instead. Although you were certainly appreciative of getting the costume from me, there was a fleeting moment of shame that you felt as you took a look in the mirror and stared at how ill-fitting the jersey looked on you. You weren’t athletic in the slightest, which was a big reason why the jersey was a bit snug around your midsection while baggy everywhere else due to the lack of any real physical activity.

However, as you continued to stare into the mirror at your reflection, a bizarre glitching suddenly emerged in the mirror as flashes of a crowded arena emerged in front of you. On top of this, there were brief bits of ear-numbing cheering that caused you to lean down in horror while plugging your ears. Unfortunately, as you leaned down and attempted to muffle the sound of a roaring audience, a body swap between yourself and Tom Wilson occurred while he was in the middle of a match. You didn’t know this, but it soon became clear as a devastating blow to your lower torso emerged as the wind was knocked out of you and caused you to fall to the ground.

As your eyes rolled into the back of your head momentarily from the collision, the sudden parting of your eyelids brought forth the confusing sight of metal beams and trusses running along the high ceilings rather than the plain white ceilings of your residence. Although this was certainly bizarre by itself, the sudden emergence of hockey players quickly skating to a halt around you caused you to grow quite alarmed.

“Wilson, you good?” one person inquired, which immediately caused your eyes to widen at the statement.

“Wha- what did you just say?” you asked back, wondering if this was some lucid dream you were having. You were so disarmed by what was going on that you didn’t even get to notice the brand new and huskier voice you now spoke with.

“Uh, I asked if you were ok Tom. Do we need to pull you off the rink or are you ready to get back to playing?” the original man responded, a clear hint of annoyance emerging in his voice as he continued to speak. Before you could even ask further questions, the man said, “C’mon get up,” and extended a hand out towards you. As you reached out to accept it, your eyes immediately took note of the thick gloves that were now on your hands.

Groaning as you were pulled back up to your feet, you tried to take a step before you stumbled and nearly fell. Luckily, one of the other hockey players was able to catch you before you fell, which allowed you to look down and see the ice skates now wrapped around your feet rather than the worn-down sneakers that you had previously been wearing. Still unsure of whether this was a dream or not, your eyes couldn’t help but look up and scan through the area you now found yourself in. Rather than your small residence that needed some much needed TLC, you now found yourself in a fully-packed hockey arena complete with a cheering crowd that was shouting something in unison. Leaning in to hear it, your face twisted into shock as you heard them shouting “WILSON! WILSON!” on repeat.

With enough context clues, you were pretty confident about what was going on, but you still found yourself looking up at the jumbotron to verify. Upon doing so and lifting your head up, you looked at the screen and found that the handsome visage of Tom Wilson was on the screen looking up. Tilting your head and watching through your peripheral vision as Tom on the screen did the same thing, you realized that your assumption was true. You had somehow ended up in Tom’s body!

While you were unsure whether this was just some sort of possession or shapeshift, the reality of the situation was that the replica uniform had caused you to swap bodies with the real Tom Wilson. So while you ended up with the dreamy hockey body and life you had always dreamed of, Tom found himself left in your slightly out of shape body staring directly into the mirror at his new yet incredibly average face.

While he was off having a complete breakdown wondering what happened to him though, you found yourself quickly getting checked by an on-site doctor for any injuries. After they verified that you weren’t seriously injured in any way despite the dull numbing pain from falling on your ass, you were quickly sent back out to begin your new life as a professional hockey player.

Although you weren’t athletically inclined back in your old body, becoming Tom seemed to completely change that as you were suddenly excelling at the sport. Throughout the remainder of the game, you were able to easily tap into elements of Tom’s skills and personality to help lead the Capitals to a resounding victory. It was certainly nice to feel quite talented with navigating the rink on ice skates while juking out the opposing team, so much so that you soon found that it was quite hot to tap into Tom’s rather aggressive mentality on the rink as you worked brutally to make sure that your team was the successful one.

Upon finishing up and heading back to the locker room, you were quite excited about how well your first game as Tom Wilson went. You had personally expected it to be a complete disaster given your anxieties about becoming a high-profile athlete, but you soon found yourself growing increasingly confident and even cocky about just how well you had filled Tom’s shoes during the game.

As such, you couldn’t resist celebrating your win by opting to dress up in the designer suit in Tom’s locker rather than the simple t-shirt and short outfit that he had originally planned on wearing post-game. Taking a look in the mirror of the locker room before heading out, you couldn’t help but swoon at just how attractive and manly you looked and felt now. So while you swaggered your way down the hallway of the arena and took a look at the brand new Rolex around your wrist, it was impossible not for you to have a cocky smirk on your face.

Upon exiting the venue and beginning to make your way towards the top of the line sports car that Tom owned, you quickly recalled the fact that Tom was a married man. Although you had formerly been a gay man, swapping bodies with Tom seemed to alter that as your cock immediately began to harden while envisioning her completely nude. Licking your lips as your mind fantasized about your new wife’s breasts, you wasted no time speeding off away from the venue and towards your new home. It was rather hot to tap into that dominant and aggressive streak of Tom’s while playing on the rink, but you couldn’t help but think about how hotter it would be to utilize that with her once you got home…

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#asks #Halloween TFs #hockey #gay to straight

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writtenbymisunderstoodnerds · 2 years

Text

Talk to me (Christen Press x Reader)

I wrote this in like an hour after finishing work at midnight so who knows if it’s any good. As always let me know what you think and send me any ideas you might want me to write :)

Words: 1.1K

"I don't know what's going on with her Tobin, she's distancing herself from me." It had been happening for the last couple of weeks. Y/n had started spending more time with the other girls and less time with me. She would cancel date night, not come back until after I was asleep, she used to text me telling me she loved me or missed me even when we were only apart for an hour, we were the couple that would always be holding hands and touching. That had all stopped suddenly with no indication as to why. In all honestly, it had me scared. I didn't know why things had changed and couldn't help wondering if maybe there was someone else or she just didn't want me anymore.

"Have you talked to her about it?" I shook my head. There hadn't been a good time to bring it up, plus I was terrified of what the outcome to that conversation could be.

"You'll never know unless you do."

"I know, but I'm scared of what will happen if I do, what if she's decided she doesn't want to be with me anymore or she found someone else? I-I don't want to let her go Tobin, I love her so much. If I don't talk to her about it, I can't lose her."

"Chris, I don't think that's it. Y/n loves you so much, it's kinda gross, but the only way to know for sure is to talk to her about it. If you don't then you might just lose her anyway." Of course Tobin was right, I knew that we needed to talk, I just didn't know how to start the conversation.

Y/n wasn't in our room, that much I knew so I decided to hang out with Tobin for a bit longer. If I went back to our room now, then I would just work myself up more. After about an hour, I decided to head back with the hopes of catching Y/n. There was part of me that didn't want her to be there, I was still terrified of what the conversation would bring. On the other hand, I felt more ready to have this conversation with her. Either way, it couldn't be avoided for much longer. Surprisingly, Y/n was in the room, but it looked like she was getting ready to go out.

I cleared my throat to make my presence known, "Hey babe."

"Hi Chris, I'm heading out with some of the girls, don't wait up." It surprised me a bit when she kissed my cheek quickly. That surprise made me more determined to have this conversation. My girlfriend kissing me on the cheek should not be something that surprises me, it should be a fairly normal part of a relationship and up until recently it was normal for us. Before I could back out, I stopped her just as she was about to leave.

Y/n wouldn't look at me, but thankfully did stop. I don't know what I would have done if she hadn't, "What's up?"

"Can we talk?"

"Um I can't right now, I'm already late."

"Y/n please, there's something going on and, and I'm terrified that it's going to ruin us, I don't want to lose you Y/n, but it feels like I already am. Please just talk to me. Do you not want me anymore? Is there someone else?" I didn't stop the tears from falling as I practically begged her. I wanted her to know I was hurting, maybe then she would be willing to talk.

Y/n POV

Seeing Christen cry almost broke me, I never wanted to hurt her. I knelt down in front of her and cupped her cheeks before wiping the tears away, "Baby, please don't cry. You are not going to lose me. I swear on everything I am that there is no one else, you are everything I want and more. I know I haven't been the best lately, I'm sorry."

Christen laced her fingers with mine, squeezing gently, "Talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

I pulled one of my hands away so I could text the girls to leave without me so they would show up, before turning my attention back to Christen. My nerves were through the roof. Talking about feelings that weren't happy or angry was never easy for me, but I knew it was something we needed to talk about. I was hurting Christen, something that I had vowed to never do. Christen must have sensed my nerves because she got down on the floor in front of me so our knees were touching and never let go of my hands, "Take your time, I'm not going anywhere."

After a few seconds of playing with her fingers, I finally got the thoughts out, "I got insecure. Started feeling like I was too clingy or annoying especially when I get hyperactive or in one of my weird moods. Like you're just going to get tired of me then leave me for someone better, more normal. I thought if I backed off a bit then you wouldn't want to leave me."

"Hey, look at me." Christen hooked her fingers under my chin to force me to meet her eyes, "I love that you are clingy. Be goofy with me, be all over me, hold me, kiss me, annoy me, text me all day. Don't ever stop, it shows me that you love me, that you want to be around me. I will never get tired of you Y/n, there is no one out there better than you. I don't want normal, I want the hyperactiveness, the goofiness, the sappiness. I want you, that includes everything about you."

"Marry me."

"What?"

I pulled out the ring box I've had in my jacket pocket since I bought it a few weeks ago. This wasn't how I was planning on asking her, but in this moment I couldn't stop myself. I wanted to marry her more than anything in this world, "I'm asking you to marry me Christen. I want to spend our nights eating cereal on the floor even though we have a perfectly fine table behind us. We can go to the movies and sit in the backrow just to make out like kids falling in love for the first time. We'll paint the rooms of our house and get more paint on us than the walls. We can hold hands, wrapped up in each other as we drink wine out of the bottle in the bathtub. Slow dance with me in our bedroom with an unmade bed and candles on the nightstand. Let me love you forever Christen press. Marry me."

Tears started forming in her eyes again as she nodded quickly, "Yes, yes of course I will Y/n."

With shaky hands I slipped the ring on her finger before pulling her into a tight hug, my own tears falling. She was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Someone who I could be completely myself with, who was patient and would never judge me. She was the person who I swear I loved more than life itself and I couldn't wait to spend the rest of my life with her.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #christen press x reader #christen press/reader #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #woso imagines

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