#Maggie Shaw x reader

[hughiecampbelle]

Supe Preference: How They Propose

Requested: I know you already did a preference with how they propose but please please please do this with the supes! I think it would be amazing. thank you thank you thank you ♥️♥️♥️ - anon

A/N: I hope you like it my love!!! This was so fun to write, I love exploring their characters!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💕

Homelander makes sure he's got a crowd with his supporters when he pulls out a ring and gets on one knee, asking you to marry him. There are cameras and reporters there, too. They will run stories about the most powerful man in the world finding his one true love, the sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you, the faulter in his voice when he asks you. Everyone who saw it for themselves says it was the most romantic speech they've ever heard. This will do great for his public support and image. His fans are all about traditional values. Homelander staying a bachelor makes his fans antsy, nervous, like he can't settle down. Now he's doing that. You, John, and Ryan will be the perfect little family. An instant family, actually. People cheer and whistle and cry. You say yes, because there is no other choice. And you hug and kiss, and he directs you were to look and what questions to answer like when the wedding will be or the color palette you'll choose. He makes jokes and quips that everyone laughs at.

The Deep asks you to marry him on television. You were placed together because you have fantastic ratings, and he could use a little boost in the public eye. You haven't been "dating" for very long but, as he puts it in his speech, he doesn't need to have known you for a long time to know that you're the one for him. You smile, and even she'd a few tears before putting the ring on and kissing him. You're not actually getting married, at least not legally, but Ashley already has color swatches and flowers and venues. It'll be the wedding of the century. You make sure, behind closed doors, he doesn't get the wrong idea. You put on a good act. You're smart and stunning, and you could have any Supe you want. When the inevitable divorce happens, you'll come out the better for it. Interviews, book deals, and talk shows. You'll ruin him. You just have to get through the next few months without any hiccups. You have to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid or vulgar. That, in itself, is a full-time job. You talk through grit teeth in your smile, telling him not to fuck this up for you.

A-Train does it out of desperation. You and Reggie were high school sweethearts. You were together when he was let in the The Seven, and you've stayed with him through every bump in the road. When things with Homelander get really tough, really scary, Reggie pops the question. It's not the most romantic drive for the proposal, but if anything ever happened to him because of Vought and Homelander he wants you to have access to everything he'd leave behind. All the money, the deals, everything. You can only get that through marriage. He loves you, he's loved you forever, but he does this not solely out of love. He can't. This decision is too big and has too much weight. He has to protect you, to save you from what he's had to deal with. You don't know any of this about the engagement though, so you say yes, proclaiming it one of the happiest days of your life. You understand some of the tension, but Reggies too afraid to go into detail. You'd worry too much. He can't do that to you.

Maeve blurts it out during a fight. You're tired of being hidden. You're tired of keeping things so low-key, rescheduling because she has to go play house with Homelander. You're both yelling at one another when she asks you if you want to marry her. Of course you do, you say, angry that she would think anything different. Then let's get married, she yells. Fine! She storms off into the linen closet where the small box sits between two towels. You hated them and said they were too scratchy. You never would have looked there. She hands it to you, and when you open it, you're speechless. You always said things about jewelery in passing: silver or gold, the cuts you like, the gems if diamonds aren't your thing. You're angry and then you're not. It's a lot to think about (knowing you and Maggie could never go public, it would put you and her in far too much danger) and yet, the answer is so clear. Yes. Yes you want to spend the rest of your life with her. That's all you've ever wanted.

Firecracker asks you live on her show. You always knew she'd want to include her fans. They're a big part of her life, her popularity, and a huge reason why she's even part of The Seven. Her audience has heard stories about you from the beginning. They heard all about your first date, how cute she thought you were. It's only right they be included in this. So, under the idea that you're doing an interview about being in a relationship with one of The Seven members, you agree. When she asks you, you're speechless. Everyone is cheering and whistling. Of course it's a yes! That episode of her show goes pretty viral. Some of her fans are upset and turn on her, but for the most part they're all happy you're now engaged. Ashley is happy, too. Misty's ratings haven't been great as of late, but this stunt makes her a fan favorite all over again. Her audience agrees with the traditional values of marriage, family, etc.

Soldier Boy always wanted to get married, settle down with a white pickett fence, and a couple of kids. He certainly thought it would have been sooner than this, but he's still young, and he wouldn't have found you if everything hadn't happened. Still, it's been on his mind. He sees you with him in that house, with those kids. There's one thing to be grateful for out of all this. Ben isn't a huge romantic. You're not expecting rose petals and candles. Instead, he rolls over in bed one lazy morning and pops the question. You think he's joking, saying that's not funny when it's something you wanted forever. He's serious, though. He's got the ring and everything. It takes you a minute to realize this is all real. Of course, you say yes! When you do, he attacks you in kisses, grinning from ear to ear. You go out and celebrate, drinking until the room spins, telling anyone who will listen that you're getting married.

Sister Sage comes to you with a list of pros and cons. Some are big, like the commitment of marriage and the issues behind the traditional values. Others are relatively small to you, like the number of books she'd bring with her when you got a place together. You and Sage have been together a long time. You know she has thousands of books, you know she's thoughtful about everything except her own messiness, her own chaos. It's up to you to decide. She leaves her list with you, but before she can step through the door you're already saying yes, explaining your feelings about the whole situation. You love her. You know she has faults, God knows you have yours. And she still loves you not despite them, but because of them. She wasn't really expecting you to say yes, at least so immediately, so you'll have to wait on the ring. It was the easiest yes of your life.

[amazingmaeve]

A RELEASE

Queen Maeve x fem!reader

summary — working in a bar where supes go to calm their nerves and to blow off steam is kind of nerve racking. obviously saying no to a supe could go one of two ways: they either crawl back to whatever pathetic hole they came out of or they try to take advantage of you, but luckily using the threat of calling the media gets most of them to back off. but when queen maeve come to bar you are in for a ride.

warnings — smut (18+), alcohol, talks of sexual harassment, swearing, and some spoilers to season 3

word count — 4, 743

authors note — yayyyy! Yup another queen maeve fic, I just can’t stop writing her, she is amazing and I love her so much. Also happy pride I know it’s late but it’s here! also not proofread.

Queen Maeve masterlist | The Boys masterlist

You sigh as you walk through the door that leads into the bar. This bar was kind of like your own living hell, but with the paycheck and tips you got, you had decided to stay. The money was great and you didn’t need to worry about paying the bills and worrying how you were gonna find some food for the next week.

But working at Hypnosis (the bar you work in) has changed everything for you.

The Supes weren’t the best, some were nice and just wanted to get drinks and delve in their own self destruction. They didn’t do much; they just kept ordering drinks and you just kept serving them. Those weren’t the Supes you were worried about.

The Supes you were worried about were the ones who couldn’t take no for an answer, who thought just because they were a Supe meant that you would want to fuck them. That you were lucky to even be in their presence, that you should do whatever the fuck they want because their parents/guardians took them to Vought and had them drugged on Compound V.

Most of the time you wanted to roll your eyes and maybe knee some of them in the balls, but due to this being your job you just politely declined with the most fake smile you could plaster on.

Due to the extreme egos of some Supes that meant that you were bruising their own ego by saying no and sometimes tried to just rape you. You usually had some defense like, bringing up the media and calling them. If that didn’t work then you would try to get the attention of the bouncer (who was also a Supe), and he usually took care of them.

If some Supe had raped you, you probably couldn’t even do anything about it since the bar was owned by Vought and most of the Supes that came here worked for Vought. So if you did something you would probably end up in a grave being the worst case scenario, best case scenario you would probably be given some money and sent on your way, with all the trauma still with you.

But the most you got was groping, which just made you go home and wash your body as disgust washed all over you. You knew this job you had wasn’t going to stick forever and you would need to find a replacement job that might even be safer. But employment was a hard thing to find at the moment and for now this was just your normal.

Only a few members of The Seven had come to this bar and most of the time it was either The Deep and Translucent, who were both humongous creeps. A-Train came once and while but most of the time he would just be sitting off in a group basking in the glory of it all, and only occasionally flirting with you. Whilst The Deep and Translucent tried to have sex with you multiple times and it just ended with you just rolling your eyes and threatening to call the media, which made them sit back down and call you a bitch or a cunt because you wouldn’t sleep with them.

So you weren’t surprised to find out that The Deep had done what he did to Starlight.

One member of The Seven you were glad didn’t show up was Homelander. Something about him just seemed off to you, even before the whole sleeping with a Nazi thing. You knew if he came into this bar and he wanted to have sex with you, it was going to happen whether you wanted it or not. No one could stop him.

But lucky for you and every other waitress/bartender in this place, he hadn’t shown up at all.

Due to the scummy people that came to this bar has left you in no other words than horny. You couldn’t find a decent person to sleep with who didn’t try to assault you, or they were too much into themselves to even focus on your pleasure only focused on theirs.

To the surprise of no one the people you had slept with in the past month were guys and you hoped that at least one knew how to please a woman but nonetheless you were left a mess after each and every sexual endeavor.

You’d only had sex with two women in your life and those two were the ones you dated and even loved. But you couldn’t find a woman to sleep with due to you being too nervous to talk to women. It was kind of weird since you were outwardly confident to men but with women, they made your heart flutter that you’d think it would hop out of your chest and hop around. Even if it was a woman you just wanted to have sex with, you couldn’t gather the courage to go up and talk to them.

But you just dealt with the bad sex with the men in the bar and had to finish the job after they left (which wasn’t long).

So you had assumed that this time working in the bar would be the same exact way it goes every time you came to work. You get harassed and served drinks to them and other non harming Supes and maybe end up going home with one of them while you had to jerk off after they left since their head was too big and only focused on their own pleasure.

Walking into the bar, you started to serve the Supes with your fake smile plastered on your face and had idle chit chat with them. Some of them try to flirt with you but then end up being pulled away by other Supes. It wasn’t that busy tonight and you were glad since you were having a stressful day already and didn’t want any more.

Someone had sat on one of the barstools in front of you and you looked up in shock to see the one and only Queen Maeve sitting there with a tight smile on her face as if she’s been in this position before.

Now you knew who Queen Maeve was, I mean who didn’t know her. Anyone who said that were people probably living under a fucking rock. But you had loads of sympathy for her, since Homelander basically outed her on live television.

And you couldn't deny that she was an attractive woman.

You weren’t expecting one of The Seven to come in this bar (besides The Deep even though he was married and A-Train on a couple occasions) and you were shocked to say the least. Shaking off the shock you gave her a smile that mirrored hers getting ready to pour her a drink.

“What can I get you?” You questioned after clearing your throat, finally meeting her gaze.

“Just a whiskey please,” Maeve answered, giving you a once over, which you didn’t pick up on and nodded, going to get a glass and the bottle of whiskey.

Maeve hadn’t been to this bar even though she’s heard good things about it and it was only for Supes so it would be comfortable, but she usually did her self destruction in her own penthouse but after hearing A-Train rave about this place she had to check it out.

And hey if she could get away from Homelander it really didn’t matter.

But something about you made her stop in her tracks. It’s been a while since a woman has done that to her and that was Elena. She didn’t know what it was about you that made her like this, but maybe it’s just because you’re a beautiful woman.

But needless to say, you’ve caught her attention.

“Here you go,” You turn around saying and putting the glass of whiskey on the table and sliding it over to her. She mutters out a thanks before downing the whole thing.

“Another please,” Maeve requests, sliding the glass over to you and your eyebrows jump at that.

“Rough day,” You observe out loud pouring more whiskey into the glass and giving it to her again.

“Rough year,” Maeve corrects before taking a smaller sip of the whiskey before putting it down. “And even shitter day,” She says following it up.

“Definitely can relate to that,” You mutter. “You come with your teammate,” You question, pointing over to the direction where The Deep was hitting on one of your co-workers who looked mildly annoyed.

“Fuck no, wouldn’t follow that guy to the nicest bar in the city,” Maeve say with a little chuckle with a look of disgust on her face. She obviously didn’t like him that much and hey you couldn't really blame her, he definitely was an asshole. “Why does he come here often,” She asks, leaning forward a bit.

“Often is an understatement,” It’s your turn to chuckle now. “Yeah he’s married but it definitely doesn’t seem to turn him away,” You say with a hint of amusement in your tone.

“That’s not a shocker,” Maeve says, taking another drink of her whiskey. “So, how long have you been working here,” She questions.

“A few years, it’s definitely been a ride,” You say leaning against the bar, engaging in the conversation with her. Conversations with the customers was a usual thing and you were trying to tell yourself that it was just that. Talking to a customer to make them more comfortable, but deep down you knew it was something different. “I know it’s your first time here,” You say confidently.

“And how would you know that,” Maeve says with a smile, after finishing her drink and sliding it towards you. You took the hint and refilled it.

“Just a hunch, since the time I’ve been here, I’ve never seen you and none of my co-workers mentioned you, but hey I know some people like to keep it low key,” You explained.

“Well you would be correct, I’ve never been in this bar a day in my fucking life,” Maeve responds, tracing the rim of her glass, that had remained full. “But If I had known that someone as beautiful as you worked here, I would have shown up a hell of a lot sooner,” She sultry says, giving you a flirtatious smile.

You give her a look of surprise at the forward response and you can feel your heart start to race. She couldn’t be flirting with you, she was Queen fucking Maeve and you were just a non Supe bartender who was just trying to get by. You bit your lip and gave her a smile.

“That’s really sweet of you,” You blurt out and you're inwardly cringing at the response. Really was that all you could respond to. God this you were such a fucking loser.

“Trust me I can be a whole lot sweeter,” Maeve flirted before taking a drink of her whiskey.

You swallow, starting to feel your throat start to dry. God you didn’t even know how to respond to that and you let out a nervous chuckle at that.

“Uh I have to use the restroom, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” You say lying and scurrying off to the bathroom, where you rest your head on the cold wall.

You felt like your whole entire body was on fire and the whole conversation was replaying in your head and you suddenly felt like an idiot, you were already getting horny from a few sentences.

But you couldn’t help it. She was a very hot woman and you hadn’t had a decent orgasm with anyone in the past few months. The only time you had a release was with your own hand or a vibrator. You walked up to the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to take deep breaths.

Turning on the sink you splashed some water onto your face, trying to cool off before you could return and even though you were nervous, you were also itching to get back to her and return to the conversation.

As you were trying to collect yourself the door opened and you turned around to see your co-worker standing there with a knowing smirk on her face.

“You’re being asked for,” Sophie says and you give her a confused look.

“What,” You question.

“Queen Maeve, I asked if she needed anything else besides the whiskey in her hand and she said you,” Sophie answers. “You seriously need to get out there before she starts to look for you herself,” She says, giving you a pat on your arm. “Now go out there and get lucky,” She whispers with a little laugh.

You laugh nervously before walking out of the bathroom and walking around the crowded people in the bar and finally made your way behind the bar and walked to Maeve who, to be honest, looked like she was bored out of her fucking mind.

“Heard you missed me,” You cooly say, as if your own heart didn't feel like it was about to explode.

“Well you’re the only thing in this bar that has my attention so it’s kinda hard not to,” Maeve responded with her own flirty comment.

“Need anything else, I can get some pretzels if you want some,” You ask, trying to shake off the horniness as if you weren’t already starting to get wet.

“Nope, no pretzels needed,” Maeve responds and puts her own hand on your arm, your breath hitched at that. She noticed and smirked. “When do you get off work,” She whispers the question leaning in closer to where your faces are inches apart.

“Uh, not for another hour,” You whispered, after looking at the clock.

Maeve groans. Just her luck. God she just needed you so fucking bad, and it wasn’t the need she had for the guys she fucked and kicked out of her room, you were different. She felt like she couldn’t wait to have you in any way that you wanted.

She moved her hand so that it was caressing your cheek and you felt heat travel up your neck to your cheeks, and it had to be obvious that she could feel it. She leaned in and pressed her lips against yours. Not wasting any time you move your lips along hers and her hand grabs your jaw and you moan into her mouth at the roughness. She slips her tongue inside your mouth and starts to explore the territory.

“I need you,” Maeve groans against your lips and starts to peck your lips. “So fucking bad,” She says in between pecks. If it weren’t the bar between the two of you, she’d start to train kisses down your neck, marking you. You held back a moan even though it was pretty loud.

Before you could say anything, you felt someone squeeze your shoulder and you turned your attention from Maeve to Sophie.

“Why don’t you just leave and I’ll take your shift,” Sophie says, giving you a look.

“Uh yeah,” You say as you feel Maeve's other hand move to your other cheek. “Let’s get out of here,” You say, turning around to Maeve who gave you a smirk.

Your back hits your door as Maeve trails kisses down your back and you let tiny moans that you tried to conceal, due to the fact that you weren’t even in your apartment yet. Maeve's hand moved to under your skirt and started to squeeze your thigh as you felt your panties start to get more and more drenched.

“Okay I need to unlock my door,” You say breathless as Maeve didn’t stop her sweet torture on your neck.

Before you could even try to unlock your door, Maeve moved one of her hands to the door and twisted it and opened the door herself. You looked at her in shock and you were gonna start to worry about how you were going to fix that until Maeve brought you into your living room and brought your lips to hers as her hands went to your shoulders.

You kiss her back, hard but definitely not as hard as her. You can feel her kisses maybe starting to bruise you. You felt like you were going to pass out due to the heat traveling all over your body.

“Where’s your bedroom,” Maeve questions in between kisses as she moves you around the apartment, accidents bumping into a chair and you let out a tiny laugh.

“Down the hall, to the left,” You muttered, wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her again.

She maneuvered you around the apartment, til she found the door knob and opened the door and moved you to your bed. You took your shirt off and your bra trying to get naked as fast as possible. You look up and you didn’t even know how Maeve got all of her armor but you couldn’t think fast as she fell on top of you and kissed you.

You were still left in your skirt but that didn’t stop Maeve as she pulled your panties and the skirt off. She moved her hand to your core as she gently slid her fingers through your folds and you moaned into her mouth as she kept kissing you.

Her hand found your clit and she started to draw figure eights on the swollen nub while you moved your hand to her naked thigh and caressed her inner thigh as you gave gentle squeezes, trying to tease her. She whined your name into your mouth and you gave in.

You moved your fingers across her core as her fingers went to a halt but you didn’t even care at the moment, at the moment you just wanted to make her feel good.

Slipping your fingers inside of her, you started to thrust them in slowly and moved your thumb to your clit as she started to pepper kisses alongside your cheek and your neck as she moaned and whimpered into your ear.

“God your fingers feel so fucking good,” She moaned into your ear as you started to move your fingers faster and cured them into the right spot and she jolted her hips so as she moaned your name loudly.

You started to grind up on her thigh as you felt yourself get more and more turned on. Whilst you kept thrust your fingers up into Maeve and on one particular thrust Maeve squeezed her eyes shut as moaned into your neck. She squeezed her hand around your thigh, that’ll probably leave bruises but in that moment the pain made you let out a moan.

Removing your fingers from her pussy and you brought your fingers to your lips and slipped them into your mouth, moaning at the taste of her.

Meanwhile Maeve recovered from the mind blowing orgasm and began to kiss up your neck and unwrapped her hand from your thigh and slowly slid it up your body, to your breast, where she started to gently massage. She moves her lips to your mouth and captures your lip in a hot kiss that makes you moan into her mouth as she uses her thumb to rub circles on your already hard nipple.

You move your hands around her neck and bury your hands in her hair as she moves her tongue inside your mouth exploring the territory that she's tasted not so long ago. You thread your fingers in her red hair as her hand went from your breast to your neck and wrapped her fingers around your throat.

She gave your throat a gentle squeeze. You felt another tingle shoot straight down to your core as you moaned into her mouth. You moved your hands from her hair to her hips and started to grind them up to her thigh, moaning as you dragged your clit up and down her thigh, you were surprised that you hadn’t already orgasmed due to the sexual tension you had coiled in your stomach.

“God you are so wet,” Maeve moaned into your mouth as she put both her hands on your hips and pressed them into the bed so that you couldn’t thrust up to her thigh.

“Oh come on I need something,” You whined out, deciding to stop trying to thrust up, because Maeve could literally stop a truck with her body, she can most certainly stop you from thrusting up.

“Calm down, don’t worry I’m gonna get you what you want,” Maeve smirked down at you, admiring your body as in this flustered state. “Just relax,” She cooed, before getting up and leaving you confused in a state of lust. “You have any handcuffs,” She questions, making your eyebrows jump at the question. She was looking around your darkened room.

“Uh maybe why do you ask,” You question, sitting up and closing your legs so you didn’t feel so exposed. Now you were no stranger to having sex toys, and things akin to that, you loved being tied down and loved tying people down. With that question she asked still in the air, you could feel your pussy throb at that, you needed something and you couldn’t wait to get it.

“Come on, I know you’re not that stupid,” Maeve teases, giving you a look. You smirk as you bite your lip as you stare at her.

“There’s some in this top drawer,” You give her answer, quietly as if it would disturb the tension in the air. Maeve traveled to the dressers on the left side of your bed. You give her a smile as she pulls out two pairs of handcuffs.

“Looks like you’ve been at this for a while,” Maeve smirks as she looks through the drawer, seeing all the toys inside.

“Come on, I thought you were just looking for the handcuffs,” You say trying to sound strong, but it comes off in a whine which makes Maeve chuckle. You couldn’t help it, you were thoroughly turned on.

“Gosh you sound like a fucking brat,” Maeve let’s out a little laugh as she sat there kneeled besides the bed. You give her a pout, giving her what she thought you were. “Although I think you are one,” Maeve groans as she stands up and you look up at her, excited for what’s gonna happen next.

“You got that right,” You say, batting your eyelashes up at her, as she moves onto the bed.

Maeve lays you down again as she sets the handcuffs to the side, you look up at her as she leans down to give you a deep kiss that makes you moan into her moan and try to reach up and wrap your arms around her. Although she doesn’t allow you to as she moves away from you making you whine again. God she was right you do sound like a brat.

“Don’t worry, like I said I’m gonna give you what you want,” Maeve says, lifting one of your hands and handcuffing it to the headboard and doing the same with the other hand. You shake your hands in the toy as if to show her that you can’t get out. You felt like you were going to explode with how wet you were.

Her hands glide down your body as her mouth leans down to bite at your neck and start to suck bruises. You moan out her name as she pinches your nipple in her right hand, you rub your thighs together trying to have some friction on your aching pussy.

She gives your lip a little bite as her head moves down lower to wrap her wet lips around your already sensitive and hard nipple, as strings of moans keep falling out of your mouth, that you might be worried that the neighbors might hear. But in this moment you don’t give a fuck, you just needed her.

Whilst her mouth was working on your nipple her hand decides to glide down your body to your throbbing core. She teases your folds as you bite your lip and moan, trying to keep you from screaming her name. Her fingers nudge your clit as you feel your whole entire body set on fire. You want to wrap your hands around her. The restrictions of your hands make you just wrap them around the handcuffs and squeeze them. You’re squirming on the bed as you're basically just a mess with her.

She looks up at you from where her head is, lips around your nipple and sucking on the hard bud.

“Maeve,” You moan as she moves her fingers lower to your entrance and then just thrusts them in hard making you jump a little. Whimpering as her fingers already find the precious spot that could make you see stars.

She shushes you, removing her mouth from your nipple. Then decides to decorate your body with hickeys littering all of your stomach as she continues to thrust your fingers up into your pussy, always stopping when she feels like you are going to come. Meanwhile you’re just moaning and groaning as she works her magic on you.

Sliding further down the bed she starts to suck the skin on your thighs and move from one leg to the other, making sure to give them the same amount of attention. You feel her start to move faster making you clench around her fingers as you whimper her name out for what felt like the millionth time. But as soon as she does that she stops and you slouch against the bed in frustration.

Even though you’re frustrated, you know this orgasm is going to be one of the best you ever had in your whole life.

“I bet you taste as amazing as you look,” Maeve mutters against your thigh, making you clench around her fingers and she chuckles silently.

In a swift motion, Maeve's mouth moves to your pussy and wraps her soft lips around your throbbing clit. You let out a loud moan as she starts to thrust her fingers again, hitting that same spot over and over again.

And there it is, you can feel the burn from the coiling tension inside your stomach. You were about to cum and it seems finally she was going to let you. Looking up at you through her eyelashes she runs her experienced tongue around your clit, lapping at it and then wrapping your clit in between her lips again and sucks harder.

Due to the constant, fingering of your g spot and her sucking on your clit and there it is. You arch your back off the bed and finally climax on her fingers. You moan her name loudly, probably loud enough that would wake the neighbors and you would be worried but with the shaking of your legs at the moment you don’t. Even though your eyes are squeezed shut, you can still see stars.

Maeve smiles as she sucks your cum off her fingers and slides up your body and presses her lips against yours, this time much softer than before. You hum into your mouth as you can still feel your legs twitch from the intense orgasm.

“The keys are in the drawer,” You murmur, still feeling hazy.

“No shit Sherlock,” Maeve rolls her eyes and gives your thighs a teasing slap. Which makes you jolt up. She rustles around to find them and then releases you from the toys.

You stretch and sit up as your hands and arms are finally free. You gasp in shock as Maeve brings you down with her arms, so that your head is resting on her chest. Her hands rub down your back in a soothing manner that makes you smile.

“You’re gonna have to stay the night at least, don’t want anyone breaking in with the door knob you broke,” You mutter as you feel your eyes droop from exhaustion.

“Don’t worry,” Maeve promises as she reaches for the blankets and pulls them around the both of you. “I’ll keep you safe and your door knob will be fixed by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Well if you’re staying I wouldn’t be mad if you found some creative ways to wake me up,” You whisper out the tease making her squeeze your butt.

“Is that consent,” She questions with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“Definitely.”

[venus-haze]

Kick It Out (Queen Maeve x Reader)

Summary: Maeve doesn’t date, for her own good and that of anyone she might be interested in. Teaching you how to kickbox definitely isn’t dating, even if the two of you do flirt every time you’re alone.

Note: Female reader with some references to being plus size, but not enough for me to designate the fic as such. No other descriptors are used. This takes place slightly before Homelander outed Maeve, but she still does a lot of internal shittalking about him. Hopefully I did well with her characterization because I’m already planning a follow-up. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Some references to homophobia Maeve’s experienced. Homelander vaguely threatens the reader to Maeve. Semi-public fingering, Maeve's kinda rough. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

It was a coincidence, really, when Maeve walked by Vought’s employee gym during one of the yoga sessions that was part of HR’s company wellness initiative. She’d forgotten Vought even had that, not interacting much with the corporation's rank and file on a regular basis and using The Seven’s exclusive gym to train. The employee gym was spacious, clean, and at that moment filled with dozens of Vought employees in a rainbow of athleticwear. Maeve could remember the old Jane Fonda workout tapes her mom used to put on in the mornings, how pleased she was with little Maggie’s rapt attention at the videos. You always need to keep your body moving, Maggie. It’s so important. 

Her eyes scanned the group lazily until they landed on you in the middle of a stretch that made Maeve feel like that little girl staring at Jane Fonda in spandex all over again. She licked her lips, giving you a quick once over before anyone could notice. You would become target number one the moment Homelander got a whiff she was remotely interested in you. Her fists clenched at the thought of how he–and her own complacency–ruined her relationship with Elena. She couldn’t do that to you, not that she even knew your name, and she wouldn’t learn it if she could help it. She wasn’t that selfish.

At least, that’s what she thought, until somehow she kept running into you. An interview here, a briefing there, she wasn’t even sure what you did at Vought exactly. It didn’t matter. You clearly hadn’t drunk the Kool-Aid, viewing your job as a way to pay the bills instead of the feverish devotion so many of its employees had. She started looking forward to seeing you, taking the opportunity to stand next to you when she could and exchange quips back and forth about how corny a promotion seemed or how weird the marketing team was. 

Like clockwork, though, you’d be in the employee gym whenever the yoga classes were being held. She casually brought it up one day, asking if you were really that into yoga, or just taking advantage of the free classes.

You nodded. “Yoga’s nice, but I’d love to get into kickboxing or something. I’m kind of nervous to sign up for a class. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up.”

“I can teach you,” Maeve said, the words coming out of her mouth before she could even think.

“Are you sure? That’d be great, but only if you have the time and everything.”

“Yeah, let me give you my number. It’ll be easier to plan that way.”

You handed your phone to her, and she quickly entered her personal number into your messages, texting a simple ‘Hey’ to herself. She hesitated a moment before giving you back your phone. Okay, this was for real. She was committing to it. 

“I’ll text you later. I’m free most weeknights, so just let me know,” you said cheerfully.

A sour mix of excitement and regret clouded her mind until you left, and as she walked down the hall to the elevator, she thought she’d at least have a chance to at least convince herself that it wouldn’t be that bad. She was never that lucky.

“Uncharacteristically nice of you to offer to help out Y/N,” Homelander said, almost as if materializing out of nowhere.

Maeve balled her hands into fists at her side. Why did he always have to be lurking? Recently, he had been fucking off to god only knows where, sometimes for days at a time. Of course he had to be around when she finally made a move. “I’m just full of surprises.”

“Your heart’s beating like a racehorse, Maeve. You’re not that excited about just practicing some kickboxing moves, are you? I’d be a better partner than her, in that case. You and I are practically indestructible. Her on the other hand—it’s amazing how fragile humans are.”

Maeve remained silent, letting out a shaky breath as she refused to acknowledge his taunting.

“You think she knows her sports bra is a size too small? I mean, one downward dog and her tits are practically spilling out of—“

“Get a grip,” Maeve snapped.

“Hey, don’t be like that. It’s just locker room talk,” Homelander said, a menacing smile plastered across his face. “Speaking of surprises, I wonder what Y/N would think if she knew this was all a ploy for you to get into those tight yoga pants of hers. I guess I can’t blame you. Not exactly my type, but with the way you can see her panty line through them, she’s practically asking for it.”

“Asking for what?” she asked, standing taller as she looked him in the eye, daring him to make his threat. 

“Hit a nerve there, huh, Maeve?”

“Mind your business, and I’ll mind mine.”

“Well, you sure know how to pick ‘em,” he said abruptly.

She knew him well enough that it meant someone was coming down the hall, and he didn’t want them hearing a word he said. Scoffing, she shook her head as she walked away, trying to keep a brave face as she made her way to the elevator. 

Storming into her suite, she slammed the door behind her and threw the nearest breakable object at the wall before collapsing onto the couch, her head in her hands. Fuck. She’d been too obvious, too careless, and now you were going to be on the receiving end of it. Keeping her distance wouldn’t be fair to you, and it’d only put you in more danger when it came to Homelander. As much of a Girl Scout as Starlight could be sometimes, at least she was willing to risk it all for Hughie, even when he was lying through his teeth to her about Butcher and Compound V. At the very least, Maeve could do the same for you moving forward.

Still, she decided she was way too sober for her liking, and dug through her cabinets to find a half-drunk bottle of vodka, wanting to escape the gravity of the situation she found herself in for just a little while. 

The next day, she woke up a few minutes past eleven, her head pounding as she checked her phone. A few missed calls and texts, including one from you: ‘Hey! Homelander said you were sick. Hope you feel better soon💐’

Between the thought of Homelander being near you and her raging hangover, Maeve leaned over the side of the bed, throwing up into the nearby trash can. She got another text from Ashley, asking if she’d still be able to do her designated crime fighting schedule that night since she was supposed to team up with A-Train. Staring at the text, she grinned, getting out of bed to choke down a few aspirin and make her way to crime analytics.

The department’s office was depressingly dark, and the girl who nervously pulled up the schedule for the next few weeks looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Opening the notes on her phone, she quickly typed what days and times Homelander would be away from the tower. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do while she figured out how to take control of the situation. 

Your kickboxing lessons with her began a little after seven on a Thursday evening. Maeve had asked you to keep everything under wraps, claiming she didn’t want everyone pestering her to train them. This was a one-off thing because you were friends. She was relieved at how your face lit up when she put it that way.

The whole arrangement made her realize how rusty she was at flirting with someone she was actually interested in, as opposed to the sleazy guys she’d bring up to the tower for one-night stands only to kick them out afterward. Training with you was great, you were eager to learn despite struggling to pick up some of the moves. She took the opportunity to stand close to you, putting her arms over yours and guiding your movements, her body framing yours. Sometimes her hands would linger over your skin, feeling how soft you were against her until she felt you shiver or heard your breath hitch. The physical, intimate closeness drove her crazy. In those moments, she wondered what your whole body felt like, your stomach and thighs surely plush beneath her fingertips.

Things came to a head during your fourth training session. Homelander hadn’t been at the tower for a day or so, and you were acting bolder. There was no way you didn’t catch her staring at the way you bounced around while Heart’s ‘Kick It Out’ blasted from the speakers you’d connected your phone to. She was sure you were doing it on purpose at that point.

“I think I’m almost as good as you,” you joked, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead.

She laughed. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Bring it on!”

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you stood across from her on the training mat. Your stance wasn’t the best, but you were trying despite her dodging your blows with ease. Just because she liked you, it didn’t mean she was going to hand you a win. You were having fun, a smile on your face as she caught your lifted leg before you could really kick.

In any other scenario, she figured you could hold your own pretty well in a fight with a non-supe. You threw a punch which Maeve blocked without so much as blinking. One more time, you went for another kick, only for her to send you flat on your back with a thud.

She pinned you to the mat, the two of you silent except for your breathing. Maeve didn’t do anything but stare at your face, just mere inches from hers for a few moments. God, you were fucking pretty. Your eyes seemed to sparkle despite the harsh gym lighting, and your parted lips were almost calling to her.

“You win,” you said softly from beneath her.

“Do I get a prize?”

“Wanna get drinks after this? On me?”

She smiled, reluctantly getting up from on top of you. “Hope you have your credit card ready.”

You took her outstretched hand, almost surprised at how fluidly she pulled you up onto your feet, until you remembered she was the strongest woman in the world, after all. The fact that she was getting drinks with you was a plus.

“I know a few places in my neighborhood, if you don’t mind going out to Brooklyn,” you said. “They’re kind of dives, but they’re fun.”

“That honestly sounds perfect.”

“Okay. I’m gonna shower and change really quick.”

She nodded. “Take your time.”

As soon as you disappeared into the locker room, Maeve looked down at her costume, internally groaning. It was the furthest thing from inconspicuous. In all honesty, she missed having a secret identity, the small thing that separated her from the persona that Vought manufactured for her. Whether for sentimentality or foolish hope of a situation like this one, she’d kept some of her street clothes. 

Glancing at the locker room again, she decided to rush up to her suite and throw on something that would afford the two of you some privacy. Tapping her foot impatiently, she waited for the elevator doors to open before slipping inside and pressing the button for her floor.

When she reached her suite, she frowned at the selection of clothing in her dresser. Touching one shirt, she felt a lump form in her throat. The somewhat coarse fabric sent memories rushing back, she’d worn it on one of her last dates with Elena, before she handed her whole life over to Vought and Homelander sunk his hooks into her. There was a slight stain on the sleeve, evidence of Elena’s wine glass that had tipped over when some asshole decided to make it clear that he didn’t approve of their date, so he had to make it the whole restaurant’s problem. When he started becoming aggressive, Maeve grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him over, knocking him into at least three other tables with the sheer force she used. That was the catalyst for her initially fake relationship with Homelander, as Vought’s marketing team decided it would improve her image after the incident. 

She exhaled, shaking her head as she tried grounding herself. Things could be different with you. She’d take back control of her life—from Vought, from Homelander, from her own self-sabotage. Her outfit choice for the kind-of-but-not-really date was simple. She ran her fingers through her signature styled waves, messing her hair up a bit to make her less recognizable. Seeing herself in the mirror, she smiled. For the first time in months, she looked and felt like herself.

Her phone buzzed, and to her relief, it was a text from you.

‘Hey! Ready to go when you are🍻’ 

Biting her lip, she retyped her response to you three times before sending, ‘Great be down in a min😄’ 

She instantly regretted her choice of emoji, but it didn’t matter, something that simple wasn’t going to ruin her night. After all, she couldn’t remember the last time she was asked out by someone she actually liked. You hadn’t explicitly said it was a date, but the tension was there, and Maeve hoped to god she wasn’t reading too much into things.

You were waiting in the gym for her, now changed back into your work clothes of a blouse and skirt. In the meantime, you had pulled up the info for some of the bars that you and your friends frequented in your neighborhood. She looked over them quickly, settling on a 70s-themed one you recommended based on the decor and cheap burgers. Her mind raced while the two of you walked down the hall and to the elevator, deciding to leave through a service corridor rather than the building’s main floor.

As the elevator made its descent to the lower levels of the building, Maeve figured she at least owed it to you to let you know what you were getting yourself into. She’d already put you at risk with the amount of time she was spending with you. You looked at her in confusion when she pressed the emergency stop. 

“You know this isn’t just drinks, right?”

You smiled a bit, “What is it then?”

“Y/N, I’m serious,” she said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Maeve, can you just be real with me instead of the cryptic shit?”

“Fuck," she groaned. "Okay, look. I’m into you, but Homelander’s a jealous son of a bitch who won’t let me have a life, so the fact that we’ve been spending time together and going out for drinks means you’re in serious danger.”

You were quiet for a few moments. She took your silence as an understandable rejection, moving to press the emergency stop button to bring you back up until you spoke. 

“I’ll take the risk.”

“Are you sure? Y/N, Homelander won’t hold back. I’ll do what I can to protect you, but–”

You looked at her, really looked at her, as she laid out the risks for you clear as day. It didn’t matter. You’d come to the conclusion pretty quickly that she was worth it. She was Queen fucking Maeve for Christ’s sake. Most importantly, though, you were into her too, and you’d never forgive yourself for passing up the opportunity to go out with her and see where things led.

As she was in the middle of listing ways Homelander could kill you, you interrupted her with a quick peck on the lips, enough to startle her out of her rant for a moment. That seemed to get the message through, because she kissed you, backing you into the elevator wall across from the closed doors. 

You parted your lips for her, happy to let her take the lead as she cupped your cheek in her hand, her fingers pulling your face closer to her. Even though she’d just pinned you to the floor less than an hour earlier, you were taken aback by how strong she was. She bit gently on your bottom lip, her teeth tugging at it before kissing you again. 

Groping one of your breasts through your blouse, she moved her hand further down your body until she reached your thighs, her fingers gently tracing undistinguishable patterns into your skin. You could feel her start to play with the hem of your skirt before sliding her hand beneath it.

You whispered a soft “yes” against her lips when her fingers brushed against the damp spot on your panties. Pressing her fingers against your core, she watched your face contort in pleasure as you whimpered for more. 

It felt like eternity before she finally pushed her hand past the cotton material and began teasing your clit, ignoring your aching pussy. She pressed hot, open kisses against your skin before settling on the crook of your neck, biting into the tender skin so hard you almost thought it would break. 

“Maeve, fuck,” you moaned.

“Too hard?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Harder.”

Maeve grinned, slipping her index and middle fingers into your pussy, and you were almost embarrassed at how wet you were. She didn’t care, curling her fingers inside you, pumping them in and out until your breath caught in your throat. You gasped as you gripped her shoulders, trying to keep your legs from giving out from under you. Using her other hand, she held you up by your thigh, her fingers squeezing your soft flesh. 

You leaned your head back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut as she began rubbing her thumb against your clit, bringing her attention back to it as your pussy clenched around her fingers. She brought her lips to your ear, her teeth grazing your earlobe before she whispered, “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“I’m close,” you barely managed to say.

“Don’t hold back. I wanna feel you,” she said, her voice raspy as she squeezed your thigh for emphasis. 

“Fuck–fuck, I’m–”

You came on her hand, fully relying on her strength to keep you up as she kept fingering you through your orgasm. Pressing her lips to yours, you were hardly able to kiss her back as you moaned into her mouth, your fingers clawing at the wall behind you as you tried getting a grip on something.

Finally, she pulled her hand from your pussy, and the one that had been holding you by your thigh wrapped around your waist to support you. She brought her hand to her mouth, licking your juices off of them so casually you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. You kissed her again, feeling lightheaded at the taste of yourself on her lips. Still, you figured someone must have noticed by then that the elevator wasn’t working. You didn’t even want to think about anyone finding you and Maeve like that, especially if Homelander ended up hearing about it through the grapevine.

“My roommate’s working the night shift,” you whispered, your voice noticeably hoarser than before. “I’ve got beer at my place.”

“Fuck the bar,” Maeve said, kissing you again.

You let out a yelp that dissolved into a fit of giggles as she literally swept you off your feet. She smiled, pressing the emergency stop button, sending the two of you back down to the service corridor you’d be slipping out into the night from.

[ultravioletrayz]

KINKTOBER

╰┈➤ DAY FIFTEEN: SOMNOPHILIA w/ QUEEN MAEVE (MAGGIE SHAW)

It wasn't unusual for Maeve to be held back late for training or PR prep at Vought. As much as she hated that side of her job, it was still just that- her job. So, she tolerated the late nights, all so that the good people could put their faith in her as a real hero by day.

But Maggie didn't care about any of that. She cared about you, her precious princess that had to watch the dinner for two go cold on the dining table, and had to go to sleep in an icy, empty bed most nights.

As per usual, she cautiously unlocks the door of your shared apartment at close to 12, mindful of every minuscule noise she generates so that she doesn't wake you up as she tip-toes into the bedroom. You're in a deep sleep, your chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. Maggie's heart aches for you, knowing she couldn't be there to lull you to sleep with her gentle touch and sweet words.

Her eyes drift towards the bed as she slowly strips out of her clothes, leaving her in just her black lace underwear and bra. The moonlight spills through the windows, casting an ethereal glow over your skin and tangled mess hair. She takes a tentative step forward, unable to resist the urge to get closer to you.

As Maggie kneels on the mattress beside you, her fingers trailed across your cheek before tracing down your neck, following the line of your collarbone until they reached the edge of your bra. With a gentle nudge, she pushes the fabric aside, revealing your supple breasts to the cool night air. A soft laugh escapes her lips as she leans down to take one in her mouth, gently sucking on your hardening nipple while her other hand slides underneath your pyjama bottoms.

Your body arches off the bed in response to her touch, even in your sleep, and Maggie can't help but smile against your skin. You're always so responsive for her. Her needy girl. Maggie kisses her way up your chest and neck, nipping at your skin lightly as she reaches your earlobe.

"I'm here now," Maggie whispers, her warm breath causing shivers to run down your spine. "It's just us."

Maggie's hand slides further down between your legs, fingers finding their way underneath the delicate cloth of your panties as she starts to tease your clit gently. You let out a soft moan in your sleep, your body arching into her touch as she slips a finger inside you, pumping slowly in and out. Your mind might be asleep, but your body certainly isn't, responding to her touch with more eagerness than she could ever hope for.

Her other hand cups your breast, massaging the soft skin as she leans down to take your nipple into her mouth once again, sucking on it gently. She trails more kisses down your chest and stomach, nuzzling against you as the soft pad of her finger pets and soothes that desperation inside you that she's been neglecting for weeks now.

Your brows are knitted so adorably, lips parted to make way for the panting breaths your let out. It takes Maggie's teeth tugging at one of your nipples to urge you awake with a groggy moan, eyelashes fluttering open as you stare down at Maggie's smug smile.

"Hey there, beautiful. Just relax, I've got you." She coos, cutting off your sleepy babbles and queries with a long awaited, heated kiss. Not daring to break the contact of your searing lips, Maggie rips your panties off your body with one swift motion, casting them aside before she slides another finger inside you, stretching you open. You gasp, eyes rolling back in your head as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge with each thrust of her fingers.

Your body trembles in anticipation, and Maeve takes it as a cue to start moving faster, circling your clit with her thumb while driving her fingers in and out of your tight cunt. You cry out, pulling her close as you come undone under her touch, body shuddering as she milks every last moan from you.

She grins against your skin, pressing a kiss you your sweaty forehead as she brushes your hair away from your face, wanting to bask in the sight of your half-asleep, blissful little smile as you look up at her like she's a dream come true. And at the end of the day, having her here in bed with you truly is a dream come true.

[madwomansapologist]

guys I am so proud of this one 🥺

Queen Maeve: fake dating

Masterlist | Taglist | Personal blog | More Queen Maeve | AO3

Ꮚ requests are open

synopsis: When the new member of The Seven and Queen Maeve made fans hearts go crazy, Vought decide that is was the perfect moment to a little fake relashionship. A saphicc couple would grant then so many points with the youngs and queers! They only didn't know that Queen Maeve had feelings for you. You also didn't know that.

notes: I did something different this time, hope y'all like it

warnings: female!reader. Vought deserve its own warning.

• You pinched yourself all the way to your first public appearance as a member of The Seven. That must be a dream! It happened before. While trying to sleep, at the shower, going to your mundane work: you imagine yourself on that position. But your pinches didn't wake you up. Fucking god, you are part of The Seven!

• Ashley helped you on the entrance surrounded by journalists and civillians. They were there... for you? They screamed your name, asked for pictures, thank you for all you did for them. You dreamed about a moment like this, but now it is true. It seens like you will need time to understand that.

• When you finally made it into the building, Ashley accompanied you while talking about how high your numbers with young women were and how your "new girl in town" energy made you popular with both men and women. What does that even mean? She grumbled that your name could have been better, Ice Princess was so basic, but at least it worked with kids. Your mind wasn't capable of holding all the information she told you, but you knew that when the lights went on you need enter the stage with Madelyn fucking Stillwell.

• It was different then the day Starlight was announced. Many women were on the stage talking about how the world need more women on important positions. Girl power! No one pronounced the name, but they were talking about The Deep. He was replaced after the horrible things he did to Starlight. Replace by you. Thats the reason why no other member of The Seven were there: Vought didn't want to appear like that story would happen again.

• Your first meeting with the team was... like being on heaven. Your heroes were right in front of you. Noir was just like you imagined: a mistery that would never be solved. A-Train sounded so mature, so knowing of the weight on his shoulders. Translucent weren't there, he was in a important secret mission. Homelander was some kind of Jesus. But not everything was perfect.

• Starlight seem... kinda sad. Almost melancholic. Maybe she wasn't on a great day. Maybe she didn't like you. That scared you, but you could be wrong. But there were her. Queen Maeve. They all were heroes, but she was your hero. The women you look up to. Your inspiration. And if Starlight seem uncomfortable, she seem enraged.

• Your tried to lie to yourself. To pretend that it was just your mind tricking you into thinking that everyone hates you. It would've worked if all the other heroes didn't seem to like you. And the possibility of you being just confused was ruined when you had to use the bathroom.

You faced Starlight when you walked out of the bathroom cabin. She was in front of the mirror arranging her gold hair, that wasn't even messy, and made eye contact with you. A odd taste rule your mouth, but you tried to mask your discomfort with a smile. She didn't smiled back.

Washing your hands, you felt her gaze. You dried them, trying not to look like you were about to run out of there (because you were), but her words stopped you. "Its your first day here", pointed Starlight. She sighed, now facing you. "I won't be able to sleep without telling you what I wish someone had told me when I was on your position."

Your smile was so big it hurt your cheeks. You were wrong. Starlight don't hate you. She was just worried. "You wanna give me advice?"

"Yes. I do", Starlight stopped herself. It was like she wasn't sure how to proceed. "You know that image you have about The Seven? Forget it. It was all made by the marketing team. Don't trust them. Don't you ever make the mistake of trust them."

And as quickly as it came, your smile faded away. "W-What are talking about?" You didn't notice your hands shaking. "Is it a hoax?"

"You seem like a good person." Starlight passed by you, walking towards the door. "I hope you don't make the same mistakes I did. But, if you do, I'm here."

And she left you alone with your thoughts. You gazed the door, waiting for her to come back and joke about how scary you look. But the only thing that you saw was the last bathroom cabin door opening.

Queen Maeve walked toward the sink, glaring at you with a look that you couldn't understand. It was like a parody of an affectionate look. Something that should be seem as friendly. She licked her rosy lips, washing her hands beside you.

"I wouldn't have warned you. But now that she did, guess its my turn to give you some advice." Queen Maeve stopped right in front of you. You looked up to be able to see her face. "Do not disturb me, princess."

• You quickly understood what Annie meant. It was all about money. They sold themselfs. Their bodies, their morals. It made you feel deceived. At least Annie was nice. She helped you. Annie said she was only doing what she wish someone had done for her, but a friendship between you both grown. If you only could said the same about Queen Maeve.

• Part of you feel betrayed. She was your hero. The reason for you to fight. All those times you felt like giving up you think to yourself that Queen Maeve would never gave up. But then all she does is discuss about copyright. The other part feel wronged. She is a woman after all. Shouldn't her be with you both? You can't stop to think about when Annie vented about what that asshole did to her. Maeve knew who he really was. Apparently everyone knew. She could've have done something. She could've have warned her. She could've have protect her. She could at least have supported her.

• Its like everyone say: never meet your heroes.

Ashley said that being on a pair with Queen Maeve would bring you both so many audience points. You didn't want to be around Maeve, but you learned with Starlight mistakes: you accept what Vought give to you. You just didn't imagine that a ambush would last so longer.

Hidden inside a car, all you had to distract yourself was your powers. You made your fingertips freeze against the window, forming little drawings. You form some flowers, then cleaned with your arm so you could drawn more.

"Can't you just focous?" grumbled Maeve. Being around her wasn't comfortable, but at least you both seem to agree that silence was the better option. But when Maeve have a mean coment to make, she will.

"Am I disturbing you?" Your fingers were frozing, and yet your eyes burned her skin. You took down the binoculars on your lap.

"Someone is sensitive today", Maeve rolled her eyes. She checked the license plate she was looking for, just to make sure. "I'm just saying you should pay attention. You need those audience points."

"I'm paying attention. You can't do two things at the same time?"

Maeve didn't answer you. She smiled, what was as difficult to understand as her eyes. "You really do hate me, huh? C'mon, princess, show me your claws."

"I don't hate you." You really were sincere about it. "I just don't respect you. You are a empty doll the markenting create. Eveything you are is a meaningless product. I definitely don't hate you."

"That was supossed to hurt me?" Thats it. Now you get. The problem was on Maeve's eyes. Don't matter how sincere or careful the rest of her face look, those blue eyes always seem to be making fun of whoever she is looking at. They always seem to be mocking you. "You look at me like you hate me. Stop that. Or we won't be able to sell that we are good friends."

"Don't worry, I discovered that I am a great actress." You smiled back. You spend more time recording for Vought than fighting. Even that ambosh can't be considering saving someone. The car you both are using is from a sponsor. Your knew uniform will be anounced today during the recordings the hidden cameras are making. Your tights are almost completely visible. You aren't a hero anymore. "And I don't look at you with hate. It is fear."

"Fear?" Maeve's eyes seem to glow. "Of all people, I am the one that you are affraid of? I thought you were clever."

"I'm affraid of ending up like you."

For the rest of the night Maeve didn't opened her mouth again.

• It seem to be the year Maeve would have to deal with hopeful freshers. Starlight was already a problem, but now she have a partner in crime. Great. All she need was you to show how higher and nicer you were compared to her. She hated you. Maeve hated how you make all her flaws more apparent. At least you are more subtle about your goodness than Starlight.

• At the beginning she thought you were manipulative. Maeve notice how you pretend to still be living the dream, unknowing to the their flaws. That won Homelander's compassion. He treat you like an apprentice. Like someone he can shape. Maeve thought you were using his necessity of praises and doe eyes against him, but she don't think that way anymore.

It happenned when Homelander killed in front of you for the first time. You couldn't help but to stare at all those bodies. All that blood. It was... you never saw anything like that. Not even in movies. You couldn't have imagine that someone could have so much blood.

"Dont look at me that way", Homelander held you by your arms. He wasn't agressively, but he stained you with blood. While your face was apathetic, frozen because of the grotesque, your eyes were enough to show what you were feeling. "Stop that. I told you to stop."

"He was", your mouth remained open, but no words came out of it. Homelander hold you tighter, your eyes flew away from the body and landed into his ocean blue eyes. So blue. So unnatural. "Unarmed."

"Oh." He smiled. Starlight's smile is so bright, Maeve is satirical, but his... His smile was sterelized. It was like something trying to look human. Trying to hard to look human. "Princess, my sweet princess, what do you think would happenned if he let him go away? He would tell everyone how he were unable to protect those stupid people. We don't want that, do we?"

"But we..."

"But?" Homelander asked. His smile was gone. "There is no 'but' here."

"She is in shock." Starlight were shaking, and yet was more capable than you. "Not everyone is used to killing people."

He didn't move. You could see something conquering his face. It was a cold rage, agressive yet silent. You knew he didn't trust Starlight. He was always looking for a reason to make her life harder. And she was trying to protect you, even tho she could be putting herself in danger. "So we did the right thing?" Your voice was nothing but a weak whisper. You hold his hands, stroking the bloody glove. You learned to read him. He is just fine with being hated, but he would prefer to be loved. "Didn't we?"

The change was instantaneous. He was smiling again, but this time it seem more real. Homelander eyes glared at you with kindness. "Yes. Yes, we did." He look at the rest of the team. "Finally someone with a working brain here."

• Since then her opinion about you change. You were kind to choose to take Homelander's attention away from Starlight, while being clever enough to do it in a way that work, while also being strong to put yourself together after seeing a massacre. If you were manipulating him, you wouldn't be shaking with big tears sliding across your face. You were... something.

• After that she keep an eye on you.

• It was a smart move. To be close to everyone. You aren't dumb, you know that the best your relationship with the team is the safer you are. She understand your true friendship with Starlight, your pretend facet to Homelander, your respect toward Madelyn. She don't understand your friendship with Noir, thats for sure. She seem to be the only person you absolutely hate. And it kinda sucks.

• Maeve notice that you tend to agree to whatever Ashley and Madelyn say. No questions, no hesitation, just obedience. It wasn't fear. It was just caution. Beside Starlight, you found a way to have a good relationship with every member of The Seven. For Homelander you were a smart girl that need to be guided. With A-Train you were more snarky, but respectful. Not friends, but not a threat. Maeve is not so sure, but she thinks that you and Noir are friends. One time you entered the elevator with a coloring book on your hands, and a few days later Maeve saw Noir drawing on it during the lunch. She also saw him buying chocolate with nuts, something that you tend to eat during meetings.

• Specially when it is just you two. People really enjoy when you both work together, and Vought give them what they want. And it actually really works. Maeve is the sword, you are the shield. Her experience and your energy go well together. So is commom for Maeve to be around you. To be stuck in a ambush. Or to be together all the way since the Vought's parking lot til the hallway were your rooms are. It sucks to be around you because she can feel your hate. No. Not hate. Your fear of becoming her.

Money flew because of the wind. The rain washed the blood from your skin. Your hands hold the gun pointed to your head. The thief pulled the trigger, but the layer of ice you created stopped the bullet. The pressure has you knocked to your knees.

Maeve had just finished a man when she heard the shot. Without thinking twice, she punched him in the face. It was enough for him to faint. "You fine?" She crused the gun with her feet, making it impossible to use again."

"Yeah." Your fingers were bruised. With the back of your hands you brush the hair away from your face. Some of the blood on your skin was yours, but you never get really hurt. "Kinda."

Maeve reached out to you. You hesitated, but accepted the help. She put you on your feets and scanned your body, searching for any wounds. You felt shy under her gaze. "What happenned to your knees?"

"I felt yesterday." The knees are so important during a fight, but you will soon get used to the pain and it won't disturb you anymore. You stir your head, uncomfortable because the rain keep putting your hair in front of your eyes. "I'm fine."

Maeve bit her own tongue. "Come here." When you didn't move she sighed. "Just come here." You did as she asked. Right in front of Maeve, a thunder echoed. She walked around you, stopping behind you.

You shuddered when you felt her fingers on your hair. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you." She gattered your hair, using her fingers as a comb. So she tied up your hair on a ponytail. Maeve rested her hands on your shoulders, your skin was so cold. You were always so cold.

"Thank you, Maeve." You whispered, unable to move. Her hands were so warm. It was great to feel them on your skin.

"Is just Maggie." You turned to face her. She was so closed. Her armour touched your body, her metal colliding with your woof. "You can call me Maggie."

"Maggie", you tried the word. "Its a beautiful name."

You never disagreed with whatever Madelyn Stillwell said to you, but there are a first time for everything. "A fake relashionship?".

"Just for the cameras. Your audience points will... "

"Are you kidding me?" You interrupted Madelyn. "Is that a fucking joke?"

"So you can swear", Maggie laughed. "I didn't knew you were capable of that."

"This is crazy." You ignored her. "I won't do that. I've already sold enough of my body. I put on this stupidly short outfit, run with those uncomfortable heals, take all those pictures. I was on your movies. And I never said no to anything you wanted me to do. I won't sell the last bit of dignity that remains here."

And for that your obedience was useful. If you were like A-Train or Starlight, Madelyn would've said the most hurtful things without thinking twice. But you did everything right since the beginning, so that means she could use some of her patience with you. "Vought is not asking you to be naked. Your body will be just fine."

"Don't fucking lie to me." Maggie never saw you so mad. "I don't want that."

"What do you think will happen when some vulture discover your sexuality?"

"What the hell?" said Maggie. "Are you blackmailing me?"

"I wasn't talking to you, Maeve." Stillwell glared at you. "We spend a lot of money to pay those that come after us with photos of you. One day they will come to the journals instead. Then what will happen? The conservatives that once loved you... Your appeal with men gonna fall so bad. Depending of the photos even who isn't homophobe will call you a slut."

You cheeks were burning. Now you were almost punching her face. Maeve notice how you clenched your fists.

"But this is the perfect moment to put you both out of the closet." All you family and friends knew about your sexuality, but it didn't matter for the rest of world. "Your couple even have a hashtag. 'Royalty.' Oh, I only wish I have tought of that name. It fits your narrative so well."

"Stop that." Maggie grabbed your hand and made you stand up. "Don't embarrassed her. We gonna do it."

Madelyn smile was so bright. So fake. "Perfect. I knew you would help me."

She pulled you out of the room, but your shaky legs didn't let you move any longer. Your hands were freezing. Your whole body seen to be almost turning into ice. Your rage was so... you couldn't even hear your own thoughts.

Maggie opened the bathroom door, you don't even remember entering there. "Hey", Maggie tried to calm you. "You will be just fine."

"I hate that place", your voice was embargoed. You failed to stop a hiccup. "I hate everything here. I am not a person anymore. I am a thing. Not even my body is mine. When I die all that will remain will be pretty lies."

"It will be just fine. I promissed." Maggie lied, but that was what you need to hear. Just another pretty lie. "Everything will be just fine."

• It wasn't the most horrible thing. It wasn't comfortable, but at least it wasn't horrible. You both had to spend way more time together. It started with public signs of affection. She would help you with your hair, the public tend to love it, and you would clean Maggie's face after a fight. You go to events together, always found a time to bring eachothers name to any interview, hold hands while walking.

• It was all to foment a online discussion. It need to seem natural. People should be talking about how it was abviously that you're dating Maggie before the public announcement. Your instagram was filled with photos that showed someone with red hair behind you. Even the couch you took those pictures was a marketing decision.

• Maggie was... not what you imagined she would be like. She was sweet. Sarcastic and annoying and punchable, but sweet. Thats been a time since when you started to think different about her. You realized that maybe your reaction to her was because you felt like looking at a mirror. Starlight was everything you wish you could be, but Maeve was all you think you are. No, not Maeve, just Maggie. But being around her, having to actually interact with her, changed your mind.

• Maggie look carefree, but its just a appearance. She told you what was real about her history. Helped with your fear of what would happen to you in the future. Maggie told you that it gets easier. And she funny to. In a cinnical way, but she is. Its nice being around her.

• And you were glad you were doing this with her. She had done that before, the fake relashionship, so she helped you. You both have limits, places you don't want to be touched and things you don't want to be said to others. Its still embarrasing to feel her arms around you, her fingers caressing your hair, her lips kissing your forehead. It is weird because, sometimes, it don't feel like and act. But that was you being dumb. All that pretending thing just messed with your head. Sure that was the reason.

• Sometimes Maggie felt guilt. When you sit beside her on a interview and she hold your thigh. Or when you are walking somewhere and her hands are touching the bottom of your back. Or when she hug you after a mission. When her fingers caress your face. When the fake smile you put to the cameras make her heart skip a beat. Or when she sees you with someone else, someone from your personal life, and find herself in a spiral about who that person could be. Or when you ask her if your makeup is too dark. When she fight with you and suddenly start to think about how strong and powerful you are. When she heard a Taylor Swift's song on the radio and remind of you. When you make jokes about how Ashley never stop walking. When she says goodnight to you before entering her room.

• Maggie felt... everything. You make her feel everything. And you don't even seem to notice. If you only knew all the things she keep to herself so she can tell them to you. All the dirtiest jokes she only say to you because you will laugh. Do you notice that she always save you a seat? Or that she started to act nice around Starlight?

• Maggie isn't pretending and this is killing her.

You entered the bar thinking that you would have some time alone. You were wrong. "Guess we had the same idea."

Maggie was on her second Martini. "Rough day?"

"The worst." You go to the collection of bottles and got the best wine you could find. You didn't even use a glass, you drink it from the bottleneck. Maggie licked her bottom lip. You were right in front of her, on the other side of the balcony. "A-Train decided it was a great idea to irritate Homelander. Ashley screamed with me because I cut me hair without asking first. And yours?"

She brused her red hair from her face. She wasn't drunk, but her body was already warm. "Just boring." She analized your hair, noticing the change. Maggie reached out to touch it, brushing the back of her hand on your face. "You look gorgeous."

Your belly turned warm with her words. "Thank you."

Maggie released the lock. "You are welcome, princess." You took a big sip from the bottle. "Easy tiger. This is not your last day alive. You can drink more tomorrow."

"You don't know that", you arched your eyebrows. "It could be."

"And you would like to spend your last bit of time drinking?"

"Maybe." Her laugh made you smile. "I would die happy at least. And I would be drinking with you. If you were A-Train I would kill myself just to not look at him again."

"What a boring way to spend it."

"I don't have any regrets", you told her. "I think I deserve to spend my last day drinking and dancing."

"You don't have any regrets?" Maggie sound so grave. She drink the rest of her Martini without looking away. "Not even a single one?"

You hesitated. You could've just walked away. Go to your room and drink the rest of the bottle. Called someone to make you company. Sleep. You could've done no many other things. But you pulled Maggie into a kiss.

Your tongue danced with her, the bitter of her Martini blending in with your sweet wine. She hold your face, her fingers stroking your skin. It was calm, and intimate, and yearning. It was like finally find an oasis in the middle of the desert. It was meant to be.

"Not anymore." You whispered against her lips.

You could felt her smile.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

Feedback/reblogs would be greatly appreciated! Support your content creators! Likes are appreciated, but comments and reblogs are golden!  

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr

[whitefeathers]

hiii can i request dark!maeve smut??? it can take any direction youd like

omg omg omg dark maeve PLEASE

I’m imagining this when maeve and elana werent together after the plane incident… imagine they never got together and maeve is also crazy

Content warnings: MINORS DNI. dark!Maeve, although not as dark as she could be, non/dub con because of abuse of power but reader has a crush, light smut at the end (strap on w bottom reader&fingering)

Maeve becomes so disillusioned and angry with Vought. They’ve forced her into a palatable Brave Maeve mould. She can’t do the one thing she became a Supe for, because fucking Homelander had to ruin anything good she had in her. She can’t even fuck guys without it not fitting her brand. She has to use her face to sell cereal, and pretend to be in a relationship with the woman who doesn’t recognise her anymore.

So as a fuck you to Vought, Maeve takes advantage of the girl she’s been eyeing up at the office. You want lesbian? You’ll fucking get it, with your cute little intern. If Homelander gets away with this shit, she deserves a slice of the cake too.

You started your internship a few months ago and were enamoured with Queen Maeve, harbouring a little school girl crush on her that you keep absolutely to yourself. She’s older than you, much more powerful than you could ever be as a non-supe, and anyway - she’s with Elana.

Maeve knows you like her. She’s subtle, at first. Flustering you, saying your makeup looks pretty, asking where your outfit is from. The sudden attention makes you putty in her hands, and leaves you wide open for when she takes it further.

She abuses her position of power over you. Stay later, I need you to file these papers for me. Wear that top I said I liked the other day, the low-cut one. You aren’t sure if this is normal but you know you need to impress her, so you do.

You don’t realise how wrong the power dynamic is, but you know how shameless she is about eyeing you up now. She gropes you, squeezing your tits, touching your ass. But it’s never anything concrete - she always has an excuse. She only did it to get past you or her hand slipped.

She starts to treat you hot and cold to get you even more devoted to her attention. She’ll give you gifts, have you sit in her lap as she signs Dawn of the Seven DVDs, and even come torturously close to kissing you. Then the next day, she dismisses you coldly, and demands you get her a coffee and scolds you when you ‘mess up’ her order.

It makes you so much more responsive when she chooses to take things further, but even then, she can’t help herself.

She wanted to take it slow. Make you beg for it, corrupt your mind, make you solely dependent on her to soothe that fucked up itch inside her for complete control over you. But one day she can’t take it anymore and just takes you.

She kisses you hard and fast, leaves bite marks all over your neck and tits, fucks you on her fingers in her lap until you’re crying. She’s got a little bit of self restraint as she pounds your tiny cunt with her strap - saying she’s sorry, how you’re just so pretty and easy, how she just had to take advantage and use you.

And what a pretty dolly you are to use.

[creepypasta-archive]

Jeff the Killer: Recall

by Mikeyboi1225

Some story i found. Sorry i'm not adding my detailed descriptions as usual i've been running on fumes lately CW// Murder i guess. too long to read rn Click here for the unedited original story

Summary

After a nearly fatal car accident in the dark of night, a mysterious boy wakes up in a hospital with no memory of who he was before. His amnesia isn't the strangest about him: his face is scarred beyond recognition, wounds that didn't come from the accident. Taken in by the driver who hit him, the amnesiac settles into a daily routine. But when his memories begin to slowly return, a darkness begins to stir.

This story was inspired by two songs, one which tells the story of a monster who didn't know how to be anything else, and another where the singer looks upon his past misdeeds and seeks redemption for them. If you aren't fond of redemption stories, I recommend looking for an X Reader. There are plenty to be found. My goal in writing this tale is to take the Creepypasta characters I grew up with and tell a new story all my own. If that's the kind of thing you go for, then you've come to the right place.

If you enjoy the story, be sure to give it a kudo, and let me know what you think in the comments!

Chapter 1: The Accident

Walter Jefferson was tired.

He'd had a long, hard day at work. It was December 11th, and the Oakwood County Post Office was a busy place in the weeks leading up to Christmas. He'd gotten off at 10:30, and he was almost home. As he made the turnoff onto the road that led to his house, his cellphone rang. Glancing at the screen, he saw that his wife Margaret was calling.

"Oh, I'm in for it now," he chuckled to himself. Walter answered the call, putting Margaret on speaker.

"Hi, Maggie," he answered cheerfully.

"Hey, Walter," replied Margaret. Unlike his, her voice was wide awake. "It's almost eleven at night. You haven't been abducted by aliens, have you?"

"As a matter of fact, I have, honey," he replied. "They've got big teeth and antennas, and they're pulling out all kinds of terrible devices. I think they're gonna probe me."

"Right," answered Margaret with a chuckle. "Can you tell them that if my husband isn't home in fifteen minutes, I'll have to blast their flying saucer out of the sky?"

Walter laughed with amusement.

"I'll pass on the message, honey. See you in a bit. I love you."

"I love you too, Walter," Margaret replied with a dramatic smooching noise. "Drive safely."

"I will," answered Walter, and hung up the phone.

"Always so worried about- OH MY GOD!"

Walter slammed his foot down on the breaks with all his weight. Someone was crossing the road. The pedestrian had appeared out of nowhere. Walter swerved to avoid him, but it was too late. The vehicle slammed into the figure like a rhinoceros, sending the body rag-dolling over the top of the car. Walter could hear it thumping as it rolled over the roof.

"Dear Lord," choked Walter as he tore off his seatbelt and scrambled out of the car.

He ran to the lifeless body in the road and rolled it face-up. It was a young man, around sixteen years old. He had on a white hoodie and black dress pants. The clothes were bloodied and battered, and blood oozed from the boy's skull.

Walter's stomach churned. He knelt and checked for a pulse. The boy was still alive! Walter ran to his car and grabbed his phone, frantically dialing 911. The voice on the other end responded quickly.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"My name is Walter Jefferson, and I am at the intersection of Shaw and West! I just hit a guy with my car. He's alive, but he needs an ambulance!"

"Sir, please remain calm and stay on the line. Help is on the way."

"Thank you," answered Walter gratefully.

The young man's eyes fluttered open. He focused on Walter.

"Wha- what happened?" he asked weakly, his voice scarcely a whisper. "Where am I?"

"Oh, God," croaked Walter. "He's awake."

Walter dropped to his knees, taking the boy by the hand.

"I am so sorry," whispered Walter. "You're going to be alright, I promise. Help is on the way."

The young man's eyes lost focus, and he drifted out of consciousness.

Chapter 2: The Ambulance

"Look at me, buddy," said the paramedic as he gave the boy a shot of morphine. "Keep looking at my eyes, okay?"

The young man's eyes kept fluttering. He opened them and focused on the paramedic.

"Who- who are you?" he pleaded, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

"My name is Mark. I'm a paramedic, and we're taking you to a hospital. I gave you some morphine to help with the pain. How are you feeling, buddy?"

The patient' s eyes closed.

"Woah, buddy," called Mark, gently slapping the patient's cheek. "Don't do that to me, alright? Just keep looking at my eyes.

"O-okay," slurred the patient.

"Good," replied Mark, smiling. "What's your name?"

The kid looked puzzled.

"I don't- I don't remember," he answered. His brow was furrowed deeply. Suddenly, his eyes grew wider than they already were.

"I can't remember my name! I can't remember anything! Why can't I remember anything?"

The patient tried to sit up, and then cried out in pain. Mark lowered him back onto the stretcher.

"You don't want to do that, buddy," Mark cautioned. "You've got some broken ribs. Just be still and stay calm. Jeffrey, hand me those sedatives. We need to calm him down."

The boy gasped twice, once from pain and once from realization.

"What is it, buddy?" asked Mark as he prepared the sedative shot. "What's the matter?"

"Jeffrey. . . my name. . . I remember. My name is Jeff."

He tried to sit up again, but Mark stopped him.

"Nice to meet you, Jeff. Can you lie still for me, Jeff?"

Jeff nodded his head obediently as Mark injected him in the shoulder with anesthesia.

"Everything's going to be okay, Jeff," said Mark with a soothing tone. "You just go to sleep."

"Uhhnn. . ." Jeff tried to speak, but before he could form the words, he had drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 3: Room 114

"So, he just ran into the street?" the officer asked as he wrote Walter's account of the event down in a notepad.

"Yes," answered Walter, rubbing his hands together nervously. He sat in the waiting room of the Oakwood County Medical Center, telling his story to a policeman. "I didn't even see him until he was twenty feet away. I tried to brake, but it. . ."

Walter shook his head. The situation seemed surreal. Had he actually just struck a teenage boy with his car? It didn't seem possible.

The officer put a consoling hand on Walter' shoulder.

"You did a good job calling 911. Too many folks would have just panicked."

"Walter!"

Walter looked up to see Margaret running to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. He stood up from his seat and embraced her.

"Is everything okay? Are you hurt? What happened? I was so scared, Walter!"

The officer stood, pocketing his notepad.

"I have everything I need for now, Mr. Jefferson. The department will contact you if we need anything else."

The officer turned to go, giving the couple a moment alone. Margaret buried her face in Walter's shoulder, wetting it with her tears. Walter struggled to find the words. He took a deep breath.

"Right after I hung up," he began, letting the momentum of his thoughts carry him along, "a kid - a teenager, I think - ran out in front of me."

"Oh, God," whispered Margaret.

Walter pressed his forehead against her shoulder, holding himself together despite the attempts of every one of his atoms to break down.

"I hit him, Maggie," he whispered into her ear. "I. . . I hit that kid. I don't even know if he's alive or not."

Margaret tightened her grasp on Walter, running a hand up and down his back to comfort him.

"It was an accident, Walter. He'll be okay. I'm certain of it."

Walter sobbed once into her shoulder, and clenched his teeth to keep himself composed.

"There was so much blood on him, Maggie. I-I've never seen so much. His clothes were soaked."

"Shhhhh," whispered Maggie, cradling the back of Walter' s head in her arms.

Just then, a nurse walked over to the waiting area.

"Walter Jefferson?" she asked, reading off her clipboard.

Walter pulled reluctantly away from Maggie, drying his eyes with his shirt collar.

"Yes, that's me," he replied.

"The boy is out of surgery. The doctor would like to see you. Please, follow me."

The nurse turned and walked into the hallway. Walter started after her, but stopped as he felt Maggie's hand on his shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault, Walter," she said reassuringly.

"Thanks, Maggie," he gratefully replied with one last look at his wife before following the nurse.

The nurse led Walter down a maze of hallways and doors. At length, she stopped in front of a door, Room 114. The metal "4" appeared to be falling off. Walter prayed that wasn't a bad omen.

"Wait here," ordered the nurse.

She walked off in the direction they had come, leaving Walter standing alone before the door of Room 114. He fidgeted nervously as he waited. Walter glanced into the room to see what he could see. He could just barely see the young man - his victim - lying in the hospital bed. His head was wrapped in gauze, but that wasn't what drew Walter' s attention.

Walter started into the room. He tried to stop himself, but he was in a trance. Step by step by step, he drew closer and closer to the sleeping patient. Soon, he was standing at the head of the hospital bed, looking down at the comatose teenager. The boy slept peacefully. His chest rose and fell with each breath. Walter stared down at the boy's face in horror.

My God, thought Walter. Did I do this to him?

The boy's face was horrifying. His eye sockets were scarred with gray patches, and his eyelids were mangled so that they appeared to be open. His cheeks were marred with deep gashes that curled upwards from his lips, twisting his face into a hideous, demonic grin.

At that moment, the boy's eyes focused on him.

"Walter Jefferson!"

Chapter 4: Good News, Bad News

"Walter Jefferson?" asked the doctor a second time.

Walter cradled hid chest in his hands. The boy's eyes darted off in another direction, then another. He was asleep. He hadn't looked at Walter at all.

"Yes," Walter replied, breathing heavily. "I'm Walter Jefferson."

"I'm sorry," the doctor apologized, looking at Walter with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Dr. Walton. I examined the patient as soon as they brought him in. There are a few things that you need to know."

Walter cleared his throat and nodded his head.

"Tell me."

"Fortunately," the doctor began, "there were no vital organs damaged in the accident. Now, he's got four broken ribs, a fractured clavicle, and a concussion, but he'll live."

Walter took a deep breath of hope and glanced over his shoulder at the boy.

"That's good. That's great!"

The doctor nodded.

"It is. Less so is my second piece of news."

"Go on," prodded Walter.

"The concussion seems to have caused some damage. According to the paramedics who brought him in and what little I could get him to say, the patient is amnesiac."

The color drained from Walter's face until he was paler than the boy.

"You mean he. . . oh God. . ."

The doctor nodded again.

"Unfortunately, he seems to have forgotten nearly everything about himself. He has no idea who he is or where he's from. We don't even know if he has any family we need to call," explained Dr. Walton. "The only thing we could get out of him was his name."

"What is it?"

"Jeff."

"Just Jeff?"

"He only remembers his first name."

Walter collapsed into a chair next to the hospital bed and put his head in his hands.

"So I took his face and his memories," Walter sobbed.

Dr. Walton cocked an eyebrow.

"What do you mean 'took his face'?"

"The wounds on his face," said Walter. "You can' t exactly miss them."

Dr. Walton cleared his throat.

"Those wounds aren't fresh. They're scars, and they certainly didn't come from the accident."

Walter looked up.

"What?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Those scars are old. He's had them for at least a few years," replied Dr. Walton.

Walter looked back at the face of the sleeping patient.

"Then where did they come from?"

Dr. Walton shrugged dramatically.

"That, along with everything else about him, is something we'd all like to know."

Chapter 5: Waking Up

His mind was blank, totally bereft of the thoughts and details that made up a person. He found himself swimming through a sea of emptiness. The dark, icy waves grasped and tossed, and he fought to keep his head above water.

Up ahead, he saw something floating, like an inner tube. He swam towards it, praying that he wouldn't sink. Three feet from the tube he lunged, but missed. The tube was thrown a little further away by the churning waves. He lunged again. This time, he caught the edge of it.

He clung to the tube for dear life, pressing his face into the side of it. As he did, he noticed a word painted on the side. It was written in rough, scratchy letters that dripped red down the side: Jeff.

His name. The only memory he had left, and the only thing keeping him above the churning sea of despair. He looked down through the hole in the tube's center. He froze.

A hideous face grinned back at him from the water. Its features were twisted into a lopsided, nightmarish smile that went beyond frightening. Its eyes were wider than seemed possible, and edged with dark circles that added a manic hunger to them.

The fiendish face spoke.

"You can't escape me," it said. "I'll find you again. Now, go to sleep- er, I mean, wake up."

Jeff blinked.

"WAKE UP!"

Jeff bolted upright in his hospital bed, breathing heavily and covered in cold sweat. The window was open, letting the sunlight in. His head felt like a blacksmith had been using it for an anvil. He tried to look down at himself, but his head wouldn't move. His neck was in a brace, and his collarbone burned when he tried to move his head.

Must be broken, thought Jeff.

He moved his hand along his chest. There were thick bandages.

Ribs broken as well.

Just then, a nurse came into the room, rolling an IV drip along with her. When she saw Jeff was awake, she smiled warmly and waved.

"Good morning, Jeff," she said with pleasant sweetness. "I'm Nurse Elayna, and I'll be taking care of you."

Jeff found himself looking at Elayna for a long time. She had a headful of curly red hair and deep blue eyes. She was very pretty. Finally, he forced himself to speak.

"Hi, Elayna," he said. "Where am I?"

"You're in the Oakwood County Medical Center. Do you remember what happened?" she asked.

Jeff sighed.

"I don't remember much. My name. I remember bits and pieces of the accident. The headlights. The pain. And the angel."

Nurse Elayna looked puzzled.

"Angel?"

"He was there," assured Jeff. "He was standing behind the driver who hit me when he called 911. He was so tall. He said. . . he said. . ."

Elayna stood by the IV drip expectantly.

"What did the angel say?" she asked encouragingly.

Jeff shrugged, which led to a sigh of pain.

"I don't remember."

Nurse Elayna nodded compassionately.

"That's understandable. You have a concussion. It also seems that, as a result, you have amnesia. You've lost your memory. Well, most if it."

Nurse Elayna exchanged his IV bag and then turned to face him.

"Can I get you anything, Jeff?"

Jeff looked back at Elayna.

"There is one thing," said Jeff quietly. "Could you bring me a mirror?"

Nurse Elayna pursed her lips and looked away.

"The doctor will be in soon," she answered. "He will be able to take care of that for you."

Before Jeff could respond, Nurse Elayna hurried out of the room.

Chapter 6: Breakfast at the Jeffersons'

Margaret was having trouble getting Walter to go back to bed. It was Saturday, the day after the accident, and his Christmas vacation had begun. And he was absolutely miserable.

They had gotten home from the hospital at 3:30 AM, and they had gone straight to bed. Or, at least, Margaret had. Walter had turned on the television and plopped down on the couch. He stared blankly into space, ignoring the TV. At five in the morning, he had finally come to bed. He had slept until seven. He simply couldn't get the boy - Jeff - off his mind.

"He doesn't remember anything," Walter had told her. "He knows nothing about himself. That's on me."

"No, it isn't," Margaret had told him. "You can't blame yourself for an accident. Anyone could have hit that boy. It just happened to be you."

Now, he sat at the kitchen table, staring at the clock. Margaret walked over and sat down next to him.

"Would you like something to eat?" she asked.

Walter shook his head.

"How about some coffee?"

Same response.

"Visiting hours start at eleven," said Walter. "I'd like visit him sometime this week."

He fixed her with a pleading look.

"Will you come with me? I want to talk to him. To Jeff."

"Of course I will," she said, taking his hands in her own. "I am just as worried about that boy as you are. I just want you to stop beating yourself up. Skipping breakfast and depriving yourself of sleep aren't going to help him. You know that, right?"

Walter turned his head to look into her eyes. His own, she saw, were filled with tears. He took a deep breath.

"I know, Maggie," he said. "I'm. . . scared, is all."

"I know you are," she told him, leaning in and kissing his cheek. "I am too. But it's going to work itself out. I know it is."

Walter wiped his eyes and kissed her back.

"What would I do without you?"

"Fall on your face," she answered. "Now sit tight. I'll make you some scrambled eggs and coffee. You're going to eat, understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Walter as Margaret stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Chapter 7: Reflections

Dr. Walton stood outside Room 114, looking in at his patient. The boy called Jeff was awake, staring straight up the ceiling. Not that he much choice, considering the condition of his eyelids.

Poor kid, mused Dr. Walton. Who are you? And what the hell happened to your face?

Dr. Walton pushed the door open the rest of the way and entered.

"Hello, Jeff. I'm here with your eye drops," announced the doctor. He approached Jeff's head and looked down at him with a wide, friendly grin. "How are you feeling?"

Jeff looked up at him and grinned weakly. It was strange, since the gashes in his cheeks made Jeff appear to be grinning already.

"How would you feel if you got pancaked by a station wagon, Doc? Because that's about how I feel."

Dr. Walton laughed encouragingly.

"Given the circumstances, that makes sense." Dr. Walton held up the bottle of eye drops. "How about we take care of those dry eyes, big guy?"

Jeff widened his eyes for Dr. Walton as the latter squeezed a drop of moisturizing fluid onto each eyeball. Jeff's eyelids squeezed together as best they could.

"Isn't it Elayna's job to give me the eye drops?"

"Well, yes," said the doctor. "But I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd check up on you myself."

Dr. Walton pulled a chair over to the head of the bed and took a seat.

"Jeff, what can you recall from the other night? Do you remember anything from before the accident?"

Jeff sighed.

"No. Nothing. I was. . . I was crossing the road. I remember that. I don't remember why, though. Then, I was on the ground. The driver was calling for help. And, I saw the angel."

Dr. Walton nodded his head.

"Elayna told me about that. This angel, what did he look like?"

"It's pretty fuzzy," admitted Jeff. "He was very tall, at least seven feet. He had these huge billowing wings, and glowing eyes that pierced the darkness."

Jeff paused and frowned at the doctor.

"It was a hallucination, wasn't it?"

"That's possible," answered the doctor. "You did hit your head pretty hard. But I've never been one to rule out the metaphysical."

Dr. Walton gestured to Jeff's bandages.

"After all, you survived a head-on collision at forty miles-per-hour. If that isn't divine intervention, I'll turn in my doctorate."

"Maybe," said Jeff absently. His eyes stung, and he moved his eyes around beneath what remained of his eyelids to wet them. "Hey, Doc?"

"Yes, Jeff?"

"There's something I need you to do for me," Jeff told him, "and I won't take no for an answer.

Dr. Walton cocked his head to the side.

"What would that be?"

"I want you to tell me what's wrong with my face."

Dr. Walton frowned.

"What makes you think something's wrong with your face?"

"Drop the act," said Jeff. "I know something isn't right. Elayna wouldn't give me a mirror earlier. Plus, I've been feeling it all morning. It feels wrong. It feels like leather, not skin."

Jeff pointed to his eyes.

"And judging by the lack of any scabbing, I'm assuming that this isn't road rash across my eyes."

Dr. Dalton folded his hands.

"Jeff," he replied frankly, "Legally, I can't tell you no. However, I can warn you. Your current state is fragile. If you get too worked up, you might hurt yourself."

Jeff frowned. Tears began to well up in his eyes.

"That bad, huh?"

"No, Jeff, that's not. . ." Dr. Walton's voice trailed off. He bit his lip.

"Look, Doc," began Jeff. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "I'm scared. I woke up in a strange place. I don't even know who I am. And I certainly don't remember what I look like."

Jeff sniffed. A tear ran down his cheek. He dabbed at it. His fingers ran down along the ridge of the scar there, until they reached his lips. Jeff returned his gaze to the eyes of Dr. Walton.

"I want to know what this ridge I feel beneath my finger is. I want to see why my eyes don't close. I want something. . . a face to put with my own name. Can you understand that?"

Dr. Walton was speechless. Before him on the hospital bed lay his patient, a boy with nothing. He was so vulnerable, and there was only one thing in the world he wanted. But, Dr. Walton was afraid to give it to him.

Who was he to stand in Jeff's way, though? It was his duty to abide by his patients' wishes. With a reluctant sigh, he relinquished his humanity.

"Alright, Jeff," said Dr. Walton. "If that is what you want."

Dr. Walton stepped into the bathroom for a moment. When he returned, he held a plastic hand-mirror. Jeff watched him approach. It was a slow, dutiful march, like an executioner walking to the scaffold. Jeff didn't know whether to feel nervous or excited. He determined that his beating heart was a result of both.

"Here you go," whispered the doctor as he handed Jeff the mirror.

Jeff accepted the mirror from Dr. Walton and held it up before his face.

Jeff gasped at what he saw looking back at him. He had no eyebrows. His eyelids were a tattered, blackened mess that made his eyes appear wide and hungry. The rest of the flesh was white as milk, and as rough as crocodile leather. His cheeks were marred by three-inch gashes that curled up across his face like the tendrils of an evil kraken hiding beneath the surface. The wretched, ruined face seemed to grin malevolently at him from the glass.

"Oh, God," whispered Jeff. ". . . oh God."

His fingertips traveled the length of a scar, then up the bridge of his nose to his forehead. His fingers splayed across his features, and he lowered the mirror.

"Dear God. . ."

Dr. Walton rested his hand on Jeff's shoulder.

"I'll give you a moment alone."

Jeff barely heard his words. They sounded distant, like he had spoken underwater. This had been what Jeff was afraid he would see. The face he had seen in the mirror was the same face that had stared up at through the inner tube, the one from the sea of darkness. The demonic face from his dream had been his own.

Chapter 8: The Waiting Room

"Walter Jefferson, here to visit Jeff. Room 114."

Walter stood with his hands at his sides. The nurse looked up Jeff in the computer.

"Give me just one moment please," said the nurse as she stood and went into the back.

Walter waited awkwardly, drumming his fingers against the countertop. Soon, the nurse was back.

"He's being cleaned up right now," she told him, "but he should be ready in a few minutes. Just have a seat, and someone will come and take you in."

"Thank you," said Walter.

Walter turned away and walked back to the waiting area. He plopped down in a chair next to Margaret and picked up a magazine, which he perused absently.

What will he be like? Will he hate me? Will he blame me for what happened to him?

Walter didn't know what to expect. All he could do was wait and hope for the best.

Just then, a horrible thought occurred to him.

"Maggie?"

"Yes, Walter?" asked Margaret.

"What's going to happen to Jeff?"

Margaret looked at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"What if he has a family? He doesn't remember anything. He won't be able to contact anyone. He'll be all alone."

"Don't worry," urged Margaret, putting a hand on his shoulder. "His family is probably looking for him right now. They'll come for him."

Walter didn't look satisfied.

"But what if he has no family? What if he was already alone? He's at least sixteen or seventeen. What if they just ship him to a foster home until he's eighteen?"

"Walter," whispered Margaret soothingly, "everything is going to be okay."

Walter took a breath.

"I hope you're right."

Just then, a nurse walked over and stood in front of them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson?" she asked.

"That's us," said Walter, standing to his feet.

"Jeff is ready to see you."

Chapter 9: A Chance Meeting

Mark headed into the break room for lunch. He took his sandwich and root beer from the refrigerator and turned to go. As he did so, he nearly collided with a nurse who was coming behind him.

"Sorry!" squeaked Mark, bending over to pick up the paper bag he had knocked out of her hands.

As he handed her the bag, their eyes met. Hers were a gorgeous, vibrant shade of blue. Her locks of bright red hair were just as distracting.

"Thank you," she said, accepting the bag from him.

Mark couldn't tear his eyes off the girl. She cocked her head to the side and grinned.

"Are you in there?" she asked.

"Yes," said Mark, snapping back to reality and clearing his throat. "Sorry. You have. . . very pretty eyes."

The nurse laughed.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," Mark replied. "Hey, wait a moment. Aren't you Elayna Johnson? Jeff's nurse?"

"Yes, I am," she answered. "How did you know?"

Mark's face darkened considerably

"Jeff's the talk of the hospital," answered Mark distastefully. "The amnesiac with the mysterious scars, and all that."

Elayna looked shocked.

"They aren't making fun of him, are they?"

"Not that I know," said Mark. "But I'm no lover of gossip either way. He's just a kid."

Elayna fixed Mark with a curious look.

"You talk as if you know him," she noted.

"I don't, exactly," replied Mark, scratching at his short brown hair. "I was with the team that brought him in, though."

He shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess I feel responsible for him, or something. You should have seen him. Helpless, afraid. You'd probably feel the same way."

Elayna nodded her head.

"I know what you mean. I've been taking care of him all week."

"Oh, yeah?" asked Mark. "How's he doing?"

Elayna frowned.

"Some days are good. Others, not so good. He's very quiet. I don't know if he's thinking, or if he just doesn't have anything to say."

Mark echoed her sad look.

"What does he do all day?"

"He mostly just stares at the ceiling," she said. "Sometimes he'll touch his face. Like he's trying to remember."

She looked at Mark.

"I think he's lonely."

Mark furrowed his brow.

"I might visit him," he said. "I'd like to see if I can't cheer him up."

Elayna smiled from ear to ear.

"I bet he would like that."

Chapter 10: Face to Face

He couldn't get it out of his mind. The image of his face haunted him like a vengeful phantom. His pale and leathery skin, bloodred lips, lidless eyes, and vicious smile stared back at him everywhere he looked.

He was a monster.

No, you're no monster. You're beautiful. Now turn that frown upside-down, dummy!

"Huh?" asked Jeff out loud. He looked around the room for the speaker. No one was there.

Did I imagine that? wondered Jeff. I gotta get out of this hospital bed.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. A nurse poked her inside the room.

"Jeff," she said sweetly, "you have visitors."

Jeff creased his forehead.

"Who?"

The nurse swung the door open and walked inside. Behind her, a man and a woman entered hand-in-hand. The man was in his late thirties with short hair and a clean-shaven face. The woman had long, flowing brown hair and a pleasant, but nervous, smile.

"Jeff," said the nurse, "this is Walter and Margaret Jefferson."

"It's you," said Jeff. "You're the one who hit me."

Walter froze. Margaret squeezed his hand encouragingly. He took a few steps forward. Jeff watched his steady approach unflinchingly.

"Come closer," said Jeff.

Walter knelt by Jeff's bedside, placing his hands on the edge.

"Son," he began, voice cracking, "I. . . I'm sorry. I didn't. . ."

Walter wiped his eyes.

". . . I didn't mean for this to happen. If I could go back, I-"

"Stop."

Walter cut off immediately. He didn't move a muscle. Jeff had spoken so suddenly, Walter's thoughts were scrambled.

Jeff took a deep breath, and grabbed Walter by the wrist.

"Mr. Jefferson," he began, "look at me. What do you see?"

Walter looked at Jeff, unsure of what to say.

"I see a teenage boy," he offered in reply.

Jeff nodded his head.

"And what more than that?"

Walter looked over his shoulder at Margaret. She had one hand over her mouth. Tears were welling up inside her eyes. He looked back to Jeff.

"I don't understand."

Jeff reached up with his free hand and ran a finger along his cheek.

"Yes, you do."

". . . scars," Walter managed.

"Bingo," said Jeff. "Ugly ones. And who knows how I got them? It must have been horrible."

Jeff pulled Walter a little closer.

"Could you live with yourself if you looked the way I do?"

Walter's heart was beating faster. Was Jeff angry with him? Where was he going with this?

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that it's entirely possible I wanted you to hit me," answered Jeff. "What if I stepped in front of you on purpose?"

Walter was speechless.

"It was no one's fault, Mr. Jefferson," continued Jeff.

He let go of Walter's wrist and took him by the hand.

"It just happened. No amount of blubbering on either of our parts is going to change that."

Tears ran down Walters face as Jeff spoke. Jeff hadn't just forgiven him. Jeff had told him that he had dine nothing wrong. Walter couldn't find words to describe how grateful he was. All that he could was squeeze Jeff's hand and cry his tears of joy.

Margaret approached the opposite side of Jeff's bed.

"Jeff, when they release you, how would you like to come and stay with Walter and me for a little while?"

Jeff's blinkless eyes widened.

"You. . . you want me to stay with you? Like. . . at your house?"

"Of course!" replied Walter joyfully. He looked up at his wife, and their eyes met. She winked at him. He smiled back.

"But. . . why?" asked Jeff. "I'm. . . nit exactly good company."

"Nonsense!" argued Margaret. "You're a sweet boy, and we would love to have you around. Besides, it's the least we can do until your real family comes for you."

"My real family. . ." repeated Jeff.

He had thought about them a lot over the past week. He didn't know who they were, or if they even existed. But he had wondered who they might be. He wondered if they were looking for him right now.

"What do you say?" asked Walter.

"I. . . I would love to," said Jeff.

Margaret leaned over and kissed Jeff on his gauze-wrapped forehead.

"We'll come to visit you every day until then," she said.

Jeff yawned, a huge yawn that nearly sit his head in two.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm. . . very tired all of a sudden. . ."

The nurse stepped forward.

"I think we should let him rest."

"Of course," said Walter, letting go of Jeff's hand. "Go to sleep, Jeff. We'll be back tomorrow."

"I'll see you then," mumbled Jeff as he began to drift off.

Margaret and Walter turned to follow the nurse out into the hall.

"Mrs. Jefferson?"

Margaret turned to look back into the room.

"Yes, Jeff?"

"Didn't the nurse say your name was Margaret?"

"Yes," she said. "Margaret Katherine Jefferson. Why do you ask?"

A headache nagged behind Jeff's eye, and he put his hand to his temple reflexively.

"I. . . I think I knew someone named Margaret. Someone close to me."

Chapter 11: Interesting Developments

"Erika Langford, twenty-two years old. Cut up in the middle of the night."

Agent Vince Brewer stood over the body of the victim, hands tucked away in the pockets of his suit coat. He regarded the crime scene with a somber expression. He had seen hundreds like it before, but it never got any easier. Still, not everyone had what it took to do his job.

He gestured to the sheets, which had been ripped from the bed, and an overturned lamp.

"There was a struggle," he noted. "She was awake when it happened."

"We guessed that, too," replied the officer in charge of the crime scene. "The killer came in, probably startled her awake, struggled with her, then shoved a knife in her gut. Slashed her face a little bit for good measure, too."

"It sounds to me like you guys have this under control," replied Agent Brewer with some annoyance. "Why contact the Bureau?"

"There's the kicker," replied the officer. "Right this way."

The officer led Agent Brewer across the room, careful to avoid disturbing the crime scene. Agent Brewer was just as careful. The officer stopped, gesturing to the window.

"This is how our killer got in."

The window was open, and the curtains were drawn. Bloody handprints lined the fabric. A few were plastered across the windowsill, revealing that the window had served as an exit as well as an entrance.

Agent Brewer's eyes were wide with surprise. He clenched his jaw and turned and stormed out of the room, taking long and deliberate strides. The officer hurried to keep up with him.

"There's more!" he called.

Agent Brewer ignored him and continued. He marched out through the front door, down the porch steps, and around the house. He didn't stop until he could see the window from the outside. The moment it came into view, something else did. It was difficult to see in the dying sunlight, but it was there.

Agent Brewer had taken down many a serial killer in his career with the FBI. One thing he had learned was that, to some of them, it was a game. They loved to play the game, and they loved to be recognized for playing. They lived for the coverage their dark craft received, for the names the media gave them. So, to facilitate this, some killers left behind a calling card. Agent Brewer had seen this particular calling card many times over the past three years.

The officer ran up alongside Agent Brewer and stopped to catch his breath. 

"Now you know why we got ahold of the Bureau."

Agent Brewer clenched his fists as he approached the side of the house. The walls were painted white. There was no missing the message scrawled beneath the window. It was written in bright red letters. The medium had dripped, leaving long run lines beneath each letter.

"What is that written in?" asked Agent Brewer, hoping against hope that he was wrong.

"What do you think?" retorted the officer.

The message was simple. There were three words and nine letters in all, and each letter was capitalized. 

GO TO SLEEP.

Agent Brewer closed his eyes. He felt like someone had punched him right between the eyes. 

"That's it, ain't it?" asked the officer. "That's the Grin's handiwork, right?"

Agent Brewer opened his mouth to respond when something moved out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to look. It had been a momentary flicker of movement.

"Did you see that?" asked Agent Brewer.

"See what?" asked the officer. "All I see is some bloody graffiti and an open window."

Agent Brewer looked down at his feet. He noticed that his shadow had lengthened considerably as the sunk sank. His hat had almost reached the top of the house.

Agent Brewer wasn't wearing a hat.

"I need a moment alone," said Agent Brewer, turning to face the officer."

The officer furrowed his brow, but nodded. He didn't feel like arguing with a Fed today.

"Suit yourself, agent," muttered the officer as he turned to go. "See you back inside when you're ready."

"Thank you," said Agent Brewer, who returned his attention to his shadow once the officer was out of sight.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

His shadow seemed to lean forward from the wall. It shrank, contorted, and lost all shape, like a two-dimensional cloud of smoke on the wall. Soon, it was no taller than the agent, and it began to take human form once more: flowing trench coat, wide-brimmed fedora, and a walking cane held in the right hand. Two miniscule spheres of red light gazed out at Agent Brewer from where the figure's eyes should have been. It was a living shadow, standing there against the wall before him.

The shadow man replied with a deep, gravelly voice that seemed to echo from every surface, even the ones in Agent Brewer's mind.

"I came to check up on you," replied the shadow. "You are busy?"

"Am now," answered Brewer, waving his hand at the bloody message.

The shadow studied the message for a moment.

"Hmmm," it mused thoughtfully. "The Grin. A dangerous killer. Certainly not someone you want running around free."

"Don't give me that," scoffed Agent Brewer. "You probably know who he is already. You've just been holding out on me for three years."

"Perhaps, and perhaps not," whispered the shadow. "I keep many secrets."

"So why are you here?" asked Agent Brewer, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I come bearing a gift."

The shadow stepped forward, away from the wall, now taking up three dimensions. The shadow man held something out towards Brewer. It was something sealed in plastic. Brewer stepped forward to get a better look.

It was a blood-spattered kitchen knife.

"The murder weapon," explained the shadow, "used to kill Erika Langford."

Agent Brewer reached out, accepting the sealed knife from the shadow man. He held it up to the dying light, studying the blade. It was covered in scraped marks, beaten, battered, and bloodied.

"Where the hell did you find this?" he asked.

"One gift at a time," replied the shadow, holding up an ebony finger and wagging it back and forth. "It should suffice to say that something has happened on my side. There's been an interesting development. I'm curious to see how it will play out."

The shadow man turned his back to Agent Brewer. He began to melt back into the agent's shadow, silently and swiftly.

"What about the Grin?" called Agent Brewer.

The figure was gone, but one final reply came whispering from within the shadows.

"Look for him."

Chapter 12: Merry Christmas, Happy New Life

Notes:

Salutations, my lovely readers! This chapter is long overdue, but now that I have finished my education I think can get on a regular schedule.

You can expect updates on Jeff the Killer: Recall every Friday evening, the good Lord willing. As for my other works, I will be updating them as time allows. I have many original projects in the works, as well as a potentially big opportunity on the way.

Eyes up. The Mysterious Realm is unforgiving!

Margaret.

He tossed and turned in the bed, eyes darting back and forth beneath his mangled eyelids. His pale, slender fingers grasped at sweat-soaked sheets. His feet kicked at some unseen foe, something watching him from the darkness.

Jeff's dreams were getting worse.

Margaret.

In a realm beyond this one, Jeff sat on a cold floor, knees drawn against his chest. His lips trembled as he whispered the word over and over.

Margaret. Who was she?

He ran his fingers through his wild hair. They came back wet with sweat. Jeff clenched his fists, searching desperately for memories that weren't there. 

Who was Margaret?

"Who cares?"

Jeff jumped to his feet. The new voice was familiar, unpleasant, and it startled him.

"H-hello?"

"Hello."

Jeff spun around, throwing up his hands to protect himself. The voice had come from behind.

"Wh-who's there?" Jeff demanded.

From the darkness, a shape began to manifest. It was horrible, a beastly silhouette. Its crimson eyes glared hungrily at Jeff from the shadows.

"We are. No one else."

Jeff trembled. The creature's eyes demanded his attention; he couldn't look away, though he tried.

"Who are you?" Jeff croaked.

The silhouette seemed to slither through the darkness, eyes never blinking, never straying. It inched forward, little by little, until those horrible eyes were just in front of Jeff's.

"How could you forget me?" the shape asked. There was almost genuine hurt in its voice, as though it was sad that Jeff didn't recognize it.

Suddenly, Jeff found himself seized in an icy, crushing grasp. Frigid tendrils of shadow wrapped around his body, pinning his arms helplessly to his sides. He struggled, but it was moot. Wicked glee glinted in the crimson eyes of the beast as the shadows of its face began to swirl and pull aside. Within, a new face peered back. Jeff gasped.

"Beautiful, aren't I?" it asked.

Jeff squeezed his eyes shut. His mangled eyelids did nothing to conceal the horror that now held him in its clutches. He screamed, a scream that went beyond the dream.

Then, he was sitting upright in bed, chilled sweat dribbling down his sides and neck. His hands trembled at his sides. He raised them before his face, flexing his fingers to make the shaking stop.

He had been having the same dream for a while now. His mind went back to Christmas Day. The Jeffersons had been there. Mark and Elayna had been there, too. Even Dr. Walton had stopped by. All of them had gotten him gifts.

"Oh, geez. . ." Jeff had muttered, sinking lower onto the hospital bed. "I wish you hadn't."

"Nonsense," Margaret had said with a wave of her hand. "Now get to opening."

Walter and Margaret had gotten Jeff a long, insulated leather jacket that went down well past the knees.

"To keep you warm when you finally go outside," said Margaret.

"And look here," said Walter, pointing to the chest. "It comes with a reflector. Now you can cross the street at night."

Jeff was silent for a moment. 

"I love it," he said at last, running his hands over the leather. He enjoyed the way it felt. "Thank you both."

"My turn," said Elayna, presenting Jeff with a box wrapped in snowmen and reindeer. Inside was a portable CD-player, complete with headphones and a few CDs ready to go.

"I know how much you like music," she told him. "Now you can listen as often as you want."

Jeff looked through the CDs. They were all groups Elayna had introduced him to, that he loved to listen to: Linkin Park, Skillet, and more.

"Thank you so much," said Jeff, hugging Elayna around the neck.

"Anything for my little work brother," she replied with a giggle, hugging him back.

"You've still got one more," said Mark. He plopped a very small box down on the bed in Jeff's lap. The box was about the size of a TV remote. It was wrapped in simple red paper, with a little green bow holding it shut.

"What is it?" asked Jeff, turning it over in his hands.

"Only one way to find out," replied Mark, smirking and crossing his arms.

Carefully, Jeff slipped a finger under the edges of the tape, pulling it away little by little.

"Oh come on, we're not saving the paper," protested Mark. "Open it up!"

Jeff caved and ripped the paper away with a flick of his wrist. His mouth fell open. His voicebox cracked in two. Words tried to form on the tip of his tongue, but something powerful kept them at bay.

The present was a little box, bound in a faux leather material and hinged in the back. With trembling fingers, Jeff opened the box. Inside, his expectations were fulfilled tenfold. There rested a pair of sunglasses, with firm black plastic temples and thick dark lenses.

"I. . . I. . ."

"Look, I'm not saying you need them," stammered Mark, "just that, you know, with the sun, and with your eyes, and with the drops-"

Jeff's arms were around Mark before he could stammer out another syllable, his face buried deep in his friend's shirt.

". . . thank you," was all Jeff could croak through the raging torrent of feelings that swept over him. Mark put an arm around Jeff's shoulder in turn.

"You're welcome, little buddy."

Jeff pulled away from his friend's embrace, turning his eyes upon the room. Within the four light blue walls of the hospital room were the only five people in the world Jeff knew. They cared for him, and he for them. Warmth. Peace. Gratitude. Companionship Belonging. They all seemed to surge within him simultaneously.

No!

Jeff jolted, arcing his back and grabbing at his temple. 

"Wh-what?" he mumbled aloud.

"You okay, buddy?" asked Mark, reaching out. Jeff's vision swirled. He saw Mark's face, Mark's stupid face, giving him that coddling look. Why, he ought to reach out and grab Mark by his skinny little neck. . .

A wave of shame and horror shot through Jeff like an electrified bullet. Those thoughts were evil, twisted and monstrous. They couldn't have been his. At least, he didn't want them to be his. 

"I. . ." Jeff struggled. He could feel his eyes shaking in his sockets. Darkness was coming.

"Easy there," said Dr. Walton, hurrying over. "He's just exhausted. Give him some space, Mark."

Jeff had felt cold hands as they took him by the wrist, and colder hands as they took him by the mind.

That had been Christmas. For the first time he could remember, Jeff had known joy. Something had taken that joy from him.

Jeff seized the pocket mirror from his nightstand, staring intently into the crystal glass. His twisted reflection looked back at him. He bit his lip timidly. He hoped, he prayed, that a dream was all it had been.

[bittersweetimaginings]

Hi! Can you do what it would be like to date Queen Maeve (she/her pronouns please)

General Dating HC! • Queen Maeve

⚠️Content warning: none, I think?

*These characters do not belong to me, all rights to their respective owners, this is just a piece of entertainment by and for fans.

Summary: Title is really self-explanatory.

Reader’s pronouns: She/Her

Keys: Y/N = Your Name. In case you’ve forgotten: Margaret “Maggie” Shaw is the real name of Queen Maeve in the series.

Author's note: If you want to send your own request, please check the Disclaimer & Rules post and the MASTERLIST post to see more content and which characters are available

I must say, I do believe the relationship with Maeve might change slightly in certain aspects if you're either a regular human or a supe (and even if you’re a supe, the dynamic might also change depending on your powers), but because it wasn’t specified here if Reader is either human or supe, I made this HC as general as possible and only including aspects I think would remain the same in either situation.

If you met the Maeve who's been in the seven for a long time, a relationship is something she's avoiding rather than looking; this is likely because of either Vought, Homelander or both: Vought would be quick to find a way to capitalize on the relationship so they can pinkwash their image as much as capitalisticly possible, it's honestly disgusting. As for Homelander, he'll be furious; Losing is something he not only hates but something that threatens his fragile ego and the already distorted perception he has of himself; he still "loves" Maeve (in his own, very fucked up way) and he's been trying for a long time to rekindle their relationship, you forming a relationship with Maeve means he has lost one of the very few things people he cares about and therefore he might view you as a wall preventing him to reach his objective, so he'll make sure to break you.

If you met her before she joined the seven, she might be more lenient on the idea of beginning a relationship with you (especially if the two of you already had one) but she'll continue to push you away numerous times.

Maeve has shut down everyone she cares about, that way Vought nor Homelander can harm them and will make it much easier for her to give up her life if one day she has to fight against Homelander to take him down.

That's why, you're most likely the one to pursue the relationship in the first place.

Even when she starts catching feelings, she'll try her best to appear as if she either doesn't like you or doesn't care about you, especially if Homelander is near.

Which sometimes can be quite hard on you, because she might treat you so bad and cold-heartedly and might hurt your feelings in more ways than she ever expected or wanted.

But as the two of you inevitably get closer and share more and more small but beautiful moments, her feelings eventually start to catch up to her and she begins to open up slowly.

Once she does it might surprise you how vulnerable and sensitive Maeve actually is.

She pretends not to, but Maeve is the one who cares the most about everyone around her and it's filled with guilt and sadness for the ones she was unable to save.

And for that very reason, she panics when the realization of how closer you two have grown starts to dawn on her and your relationship might take two steps back before moving forward as Maeve tries to push you away once again.

Though this time around you're able to figure out how to get past that act of hers more easily.

After that I believe she'll start to be more honest with herself and you about her own feelings and stop putting so much of a front.

She'll treat you much more softly and tenderly than ever before and might allow herself to give in and give you the first kiss.

She smiles at you all the time, especially when she observes the little quirky things you do when you think no one is looking.

Maeve loves being of help to you, so whatever you need she'll make sure to provide one way or another.

One thing that doesn't change, is how protective she is of you, always making sure not Homelander or Vought know about or can get to you, and this might stir many conflicts in your relationship but over time you both might be able to handle it with more ease.

Maeve is a very supportive partner and loves listening and being involved in whatever you're passionate about or the goals you want to pursue, even if she doesn't necessarily understand them completely.

You're the one person in her life that calls her by her real name "Margaret" "Maggie" "Margo" whatever variant you choose, she's happy to hear her name coming from you, it's been a long time since someone has called her that and it's surprised by the feeling of comfort it gives her; since in many ways the alias of "Queen Maeve" has turned in her own prison.

I strongly believe Maggie is the little spoon in cuddle sessions; she always has to be the strong one in every other situation in her life, she really does enjoy the moments of vulnerability she shares with you.

Both find it funny that she can probably punch a building down but she appears as if made of paper in your arms, adorable.

She might struggle with remembering things like dates, anniversaries, birthdays, etc; she has a lot on her mind but she'll apologize and make it up to you, don't worry.

I also very much believe Maggie to be a foodie (notice most of her scenes with Elena there's some talk about food? Idk if it was intentional or not, but I like to believe that this is because Maeve really likes food and is a comfort for her on hard times).

She adores taking you out for dinner in all kinds of restaurants, exploring new foods and flavors is just one of her favorite things, plus she gets to watch your reactions when trying them out.

She knows all the best places in town to eat.

If by any chance you know how to cook and you're good at it, Maggie might just consider to slap a ring on your finger right then and there istg.

Overall Maggie, although difficult at first, I believe she'll make for a great partner once she opens up to you; she still has a lot of issues to work through, but she'll definitely try to be a better person not only for you and your relationship, but because deep down, I believe she also wants to genuinely be a hero her younger-more-hopeful self would be proud of.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

QUEEN MAEVE | MAGGIE SHAW (the boys)

—

“The Usual” (Queen Maeve x Fem!Reader)

| You and Maeve run into each other after you’ve been accepted to The Seven. You get along so well that she starts to feel bad about how Vaught treats you, and warns you about them. Your reaction is…something.

| Reader is always black unless I say differently

| Reader’s supe persona is reminiscent of Catwoman and as such fits the M.O. of Talon from The Boys comics. So that’s Reader’s thing in this one.

| SFW, no happy ending

| 1k+

You’re in the elevator with Maeve joking about the newest marketing ploy Vaught was getting y’all to do.

“When I joined The Seven I didn’t expect so much swimwear to be involved.”

Maeve laughs as she leans against the back of the metal wall.

“The amount of thongs in the slideshow alone gave me the chills.”

“Yup. Instead of firemen calendars Vaught has the Girls Get it Done box.”

“Including calendars, t-shirts, and tiny funko pops of all our signature boss ladies!”

Maeve laughs, but it doesn’t last long.

Ever since you’ve met her you’ve gotten the gist that they used to. You’re not stupid, you saw the promotional material Vaught shoved down everybody’s throat once she publicly came out.

“Brave Maeve!” What a load of shit.

You’d seen the woman that had almost always been beside her and considering how fleeting Maeve’s smiles were, how she was always stuck quietly around corners, and the fact that you’d been here for weeks and have yet to see the lady that was attached to Maeve’s hip in all the pictures you could guess what happened.

You honestly hadn’t expected to get so comfortable around her, let alone have her requesting team ups with you, so this new camaraderie was a nice surprise. You were glad you could give her some reprieve after her break up.

When you turn back to crack another joke, maybe even compliment her on the move she’d pulled when sparring with you earlier, you’re caught up by the look on her face.

She’s stopped smiling entirely, face creasing in worry as her eyes instantly meet your own.

“Girl, are you good?”

She swallows and crosses her arms. Her lips thin, she presses them together so hard, and you shift on your feet. The elevator’s still moving so you’re not worried about getting stuck, but you knew Vaught’s cruelty better than most.

Something snarls deep in your chest. There’s a very real possibility that the reason you got so close was so that Vaught could pull a Soldier Boy and finally get rid of you. A possibility that you missed. Fuck.

Your eyes narrow, “Maeve?”

She seems to snap out of the contemplative silence she fell into. Eyes gaining a clarity they’d briefly lost.

The change doesn’t make you feel better.

“Please don’t take me saying this as me trying to be a bitch, but you know being in The Seven gets worse than them forcing you into a bikini right?” She shakes her head, “Way worse.”

You squint at her, “I mean yeah. No one’s ever one hundred percent comfortable at their job.”

She shakes her head, it’s violent enough her hair whips around her head. When she looks back at you her eyes have gone worryingly bright.

“There’s not loving your job and then being held captive in it. I like you, so I need you to know that you should leave while you still can.”

You start shaking your own head and stop looking at her as she gets a little closer. Your eyes track the elevator pinging from floor to floor.

The yellow light feels like it’s taunting you as it slowly flashes closer and closer to your floor number. You were still five floors away.

Maeve touches your arm and you bounce out of her reach. Her hands go up as she takes in the fighting stance you fall into, hand going to the bullwhip at your side in the moment.

Your breaths come out in harsh pants as you tip your head at her. You’re starting to regret leaving your talons at home. They were uncomfortable and got in the way, but they were sharp and tore through flesh almost too smoothly.

Your gaze is sharp as you take in your (maybe) opponent. Two more floors.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you all of a sudden. But I think it’d be best if you didn’t fucking touch me.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” As you shift so that you’re standing in front of the door she moves so that you stay in her sight, standing across from you. “But can you just listen to me?”

The door dings and you fall back before the sound has even finished reverberating around the metal box, squeezing yourself through the crack as the elevator doors open up, once it’s wide enough for you to slip through.

You don’t walk away the way you want though, not willing to turn your back on her when she’s acting so off. You ignore the people bustling past you in the hallway who seem to take in your tense stance and start rushing to leave the space.

Maeve steps out of the elevator looking much more composed than she has been and so you figure she’s more willing to talk with you than at you now.

“Why are you telling me this,” your voice is angry as you face her in the hallway.

“Because they’re using you!” Outburst come and gone, her face drops fully and she gives a hopeless shrug while glancing at you. “They’ll squeeze you dry and then kill you the second you become too much of a problem.”

She sniffs and the smile she gives you is steeped with self deprecation.

“If you’re lucky.”

Maeve’s statement doesn’t serve to do anything except upset you more.

“You don’t think I know that? I’m fully aware that I was only invited to The Seven because they lost their last resident minority and needed a new one.” You sigh, shoulders dropping. “They get to kill two birds with one stone. Replace the nazi ‘Girls Get It Done’ woman and their resident black in one throw.”

Maeve and you don’t do anything but look at each other and as the minutes tick on the both of you steadily un-tense. You sigh.

You walk over and grab one of her hands. She’s trying to do you a favor, and you appreciate it, but you don't need her to spell out Vaught’s many grievances to you.

“I know it looks bad that I don’t care, but I don’t need you saving me.”

She raises an eyebrow at you. A thinly manicured line of judgment, but she squeezes your hand back regardless. Butterflies threaten to flutter in your stomach and you bite each head off with a quiet sort of defeat.

You can’t have this any longer. She’ll get in your way.

“Okay,” her tongue glides slowly over the back of her teeth before she swallows and gives you a shallow smile. “I can respect that. What are you gonna do now?”

You tense, staring at her a little wide eyed. You expected this. The question. Why are you freezing up now?

The smile that stretches across your face feels like it’s being pinned in place. Little pinpricks that lift the corners of your mouth upwards. You’re vaguely aware that the smile is too wide. The longer you keep it up your face starts to burn and Maeve’s own tentative smile slowly transforms into a frown.

Her whole demeanor bypasses blank indifference and drops straight back into worry as you go still.

Her mouth’s moving, you’re watching it open and close in speech, but nothing’s reaching your ears from her.

Instead the voice that curls around your senses somewhere behind you is your agent’s.

“You fuck this up and it’s back to the center okay? Back to being shot up so we can make sure Temp V stays stable.”

You were a lab rat, you needed to keep it together. Rats didn’t get soft things, they got poisoned. The longer you let yourself be comfortable with her Vaught would find some way to make Maeve another rat trap.

You bounce back to yourself, smile dropping minutely but still staying in place. Your jaw aches.

“I’ve got it handled. That's all you need to know.”

You nod before slipping your hand from hers and walking off. She calls after you but you don’t respond. One foot after the other.

That’s all that mattered.

NOTES: IDK I was trying something out. I like Maeve but I couldn’t follow the current season and come up with something cute to write for her.

[scarlettconfetti]

I know this is like my second Maeve request😅but could you also do headcanons for maeve with a short girlfriend?🥺

a/n: hey, the request has finally been done & i am so, so sorry that it’s taken me so long to get around to writing this. i hope you enjoy the headcanons i have crafted for this lovely idea.

(THE BOYS) QUEEN MAEVE X READER

you’re the girlfriend of queen maeve & you are quite short.

she doesn’t tease you about it all the time, but if there’s an opportunity for her to, you will be met with a witty but sweet remark about your shorter status.

for starters: maeve absolutely adores you, you are her girlfriend & she treasures you.

she will wrap her arm around you & tuck you into her side if you’re walking anywhere together.

getting maeve to reach stuff out of the taller cupboards for you.

if she sees you struggling she’s there.

if you’re practically climbing up the kitchen units to get what you need, she is there to help you.

she will get what you wanted & set it aside so that she can help you down.

maeve will usually pick you up & give you a comforting hug when she does that.

if you run to give her a hug, she will definitely lift you off the ground a little bit.

when either you or her or both of you needs comforting, she will gently wrap her arms around you & rub your back as you rest you head on her chest.

she’ll have her fingers resting in your hair sometimes.

standing on tiptoes even if it causes you pain & for your toes to hate you, to kiss her because she’s maeve & you absolutely love to share kisses with your taller girlfriend.

a/n: i hope you liked this, i’m sorry if it isn’t my best work, but i had so many ideas for this & it all just came out in this rush of insanity, thank you so much for requesting & reading.

[hughiecampbelle]

Supe Preference: Asking You Out

Requested: hi, idk if you write for the supes, but I will try request anyway :D how would the supes ( the boys series) ask a gn reader out? Ty - anon

A/N: I hope this is okay my love! I tried to stay true to character as much as possible, so I'm not sure how romantic some of them are. I tried writing for new Supes too, at least new for me, so apologies if it's not totally in character! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Homelander doesn't exactly ask you out. Rather, on live TV during an interview or event, he grabs your hand and proclaims that you're in love, that you're a couple. Whether or not you're into him, it still comes as a shock. Afterwards he'll ask you on a date where the public and paparazzi can see and take pictures. It's not as intimate as you'd like, but the date goes well. He takes you to an expensive restaurant where you've gotten rid of your suit for something classy and elegant, but he sticks with his regular attire. It's definitely not how you were expecting to be asked out or how you thought your relationship would progress. Ashley thinks it's great! You are both insanely powerful and, for selfish reasons, she wants Homelander off her back. She appreciates that you'll take some of the attention off her.

The Deep probably makes more than a few inappropriate, crude, raunchy jokes about and around you before he properly introduces himself. It's almost compulsive the way his jokes come out. He just can't help himself. He later apologizes and asks to start fresh. Would you want to go out on a date with him? When you say yes, he instantly tells you about all his ideas. You could go to the aquarium or to dinner or to the amusement park or coffee or whatever you want to do. You stick to coffee. It's pretty cute how excited he is. He wasn't expecting you to say yes, so he really didn't have it planned all the way through. He was expecting, like everyone else in his life, for you to call him stupid and move on without answering.

A-Train and you have been dating forever, but you haven't been out on a date in ages. He's still shy trying to ask you out even now. Of course you say yes, excited you'll get some time alone. You might have to reschedule once or twice because Homelander is on the rampage, but when you do get together, he takes you rollerskating. Despite how fast he is in sneakers, he's awful on wheels. He holds your hand the entire time and definitely drags you down when he falls. He stays pretty casual in his clothes and tries to keep his hood up, but it just falls down. You guys find a roller-rink in the middle of nowhere, so you're pretty safe in being discovered. You make fun of his clumsiness and check him for bruises when he falls, especially hard. He makes the same joke over and over: that he "fell" for you. You think he's an idiot, but this is by far one of your most favorite dates.

Queen Maeve asks you out over text. When you say yes, she shows up in her civilian clothes. She makes sure she isn't followed and that Homelander is distracted the entire day. She takes you to the movies. It's dark and secluded, but she knows you love movie theater popcorn specifically with all the butter and the blue raspberry slushies, and you picked the only movie not funded by or produced by Vought. It's a really terrible comedy, but you two can laugh at it anyway. Maeve even holds your hand during the movie which makes her heart beat out of her chest. Afterwards she makes you stay after to kiss you and tell you she had a really great time. It's the first time in forever where she's felt like a real person whose allowed to do real person things. She wants to get your read on it, but you're both excited for a second date.

Firecracker would ask you on a date to some fast food restaurant where you can get the best greasy food and the thickest milkshakes. She'll definitely be sported because she doesn't go incognito and ends up spending a few minutes at least taking pictures and videos for everyone who wants one. She apologizes for them, but secretly, she loves it. You don't mind. You knew what you were getting into when you said yes to the date. She tells you about her life growing up and her past with Starlight. You tell her about your own life and how you came to New York to follow your dreams. She tells you about joining The Seven and what she really thinks of Vought. It isn't the most magical date, but you're glad you said yes. It made you feel like a teenager again, getting food with your old crush, trying to play it cool when you're actually freaking out.

Soldier Boy doesn't really ask you out on a date. You two *get busy* in bed and afterwards he asks if you'd want to go to a bar. You say yes and find yourself at a local hole in the wall, a place that definitely doesn't see new faces. Most of the patrons are as old as Ben would be if he'd aged. He looks so familiar to them, but they can't figure out where he's from. An old friend? An old co-worker? Regardless, they don't pay attention to the two of you. You and Ben start trying to out drink one another and though his tolerance is astronomically higher than yours, you keep up enough to impress him. You two probably go back to bed and keep drinking, sharing stories about your lives between sweaty sheets and shared sips of whatever booze he has lying around. It's not too official, but you both kind of think of it as a date.

Bonus! Annie asks you to go bowling with her. Like in the show, she plays it off like she's not very good until you point it out to her. That's when she starts kicking your ass. She's really embarrassed and worried that you'll think she's showing off or just trying to make you feel bad, but you love it. You love her strength. You love her showing off and almost breaking the pins with the ball. You get really awful bowling alley food and beers, and it's a really fun night despite all the drama that comes with being Starlight. It's the first time in a long time she's felt normal and safe and excited to be here, excited to be herself. You're not shy about asking for a second date, though you know you're risking a lot by wanting to be with her. She makes that known before anything else.

[jessicaaatje]

People I'll write for

Some will be platonic, but sometimes I can make them not platonic. You can make couples, then I will maybe write a poly fic, or one where the couple are the parents of the reader.

WOSO

Alex Morgan

Christen Press

Ashlyn Harris

Ali Krieger

Tobin Heath

Lindsey Horan

Emily Sonnett

Kelley O'Hara

Hope Solo

Leah Williamson

Jill Roord

Jackie Groenen

Vivianne Miedema

Alexia Putellas

Jenni Hermoso

And more...

STRANGER THINGS

Max Mayfield

Eleven

Nancy Wheeler

Robin Buckley

Susy

Erica Sinclair

Chrissy

Kali

Platonic

Will Byers

Mike Wheeler

Lucas Sinclair

Dustin Henderson

Eddie Munson

Steve Harrington

Parents

Jim Hopper

Joyce Byers

Bob Newby

Murray

MARVEL

Natasha Romanoff

Wanda Maximoff

Yelena Belova

Daisy Johnson

Jemma Simmons

Melinda May

Kate Bishop

Elena Rodriguez

Bobbi Morse

Sprite

Darcy Lewis

And more...

Platonic

Leo Fitz

Deke Shaw

Mack

Peter Parker

Pietro Maximoff

And more...

GLEE

Santana Lopez

Quinn Fabray

Marley Rose

Mercedes Jones

Platonic

Kurt Hummel

Noah Puckerman

Blaine Anderson

DC

Sara Lance

Zari Tarazi

Zari Tomaz

Spooner

Astra Logue

Gideon

Amaya Jiwe

Charlie

Ava Sharpe

Kara Danvers

Alex Danvers

Maggie Sawyer

Lena Luthor

Laurel Lance

Thea Queen

Mia Queen

Dinah Drake

Felicity Smoak

Killer Frost

Caitlin Snow

Nora West-Allen

Allegra Garcia

Jesse Quick

Lois Lane

Sarah Dawes

Nyssa al Ghul

Platonic

Most of the boys in the arrowverse

CRIMINAL MINDS

Emily Prentiss

Jennifer Jareau

Alex Blake

Kate Cahallan

Elle Greenaway

Penelope Garcia

Platonic

Derek Morgan

Spencer Reid

Parent

Aaron Hotchner

David Rossi

Jason Gideon

PITCH PERFECT

Becca Mitchell

Chloe Beale

Aubrey Posen

Emily Junk

Fat Amy

QUANTICO

Alex Parrish

Shelby Wyatt

Nimah and her Sister

DISNEY

DESCENDANTS

Mal

Evie

Uma

Audrey

TVD

Caroline Forbes

Bonnie Bennett

Lizzie Saltzman

Hope Mikealson

Josie Saltzman

Penelope Park

Rebekah Mikealson

Hayley Marshall

Davina Claire

Freya Mikealson

ARCANE

Jinx

Powder

Vi

Lost In Space

Penny Robinson

Judy Robinson

Platonic

Will Robinson

HUNGER GAMES

Katniss Everdeen

Foxface

Primrose Everdeen

Johanna Mason

And mkre from the 74th hunger games women

TWILIGHT

Alice Cullen

Leah Clearwater

Reneesmee Cullen

Rosalie Hale

HARRY POTTER

Ginny Weasley

Hermione Granger

Luna Lovegood

Tonks

Daphne Greengrass

Lily Evans

Platonic

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Parents

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black

James Potter

Remus x Sirius

James x Lily

ZERO CHILL

Kayla

Ava Hammerstrom

Sky

GAME OF THRONES

Arya Stark

Sansa Stark

Ygritte

Brienne

Margaery Tyrell

Daenerys Targaryen

REIGN

Mary Stuart

Lola

Kenna

Greer

THE 100

Clarke Griffin

Octavia Blake

Harper

Raven Reyes

Lexa

Anya

Madi Griffin

Cobra Kai

Sam LaRusso

Top Gun

Penny Benjamin

Amelia Benjamin

Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace

Platonic

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

'Hangman'

Parents

Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell

'Iceman'

'Goose'

More To Come!

[we-are-all-of-legend-now]

The Island Of Misfit Toys Playlist

YouTube Playlist

Part One: Songs Featured In The Text

Part Two: Songs That Remind Me Of The Text* 

(*If a song matches a certain part in the text, it will be indicated, if not, it’s a general inspiration)

Ace Of Hearts - Zella Day

All Die Young - Smith Westerns

All The Stars - The Wailin’ Jennys

All The Way - Carolyne Neuman

All Through The Night - Sleeping At Last

Anchor - Mindy Gledhill

A Place You Like - Island

Arms - Christina Perri

Ashes Made Of Spades - The Rocket Summer

Away Frm U - Oberhofer

Barbies - P!nk

Beating Heart - Ellie Goulding

Believe In Dreams - Flyleaf

Be Still - The Fray

Blood And Bones - Kodaline

Brand New - Emilie Mover

Breathe - Rhodes

Breathless - Better Than Ezra

Bring Us The Sun - Ben Cocks

But Breathing - Defeater

Cancer - My Chemical Romance

Cast No Shadow - Oasis

Chain Breaker - Zach Williams

Come Out Of The Shade - The Perishers

Crash Into Me - Former Vandal

Daring To Be Different - Everlife

Diamond - Bandit Heart

Disaster Hearts - I Fight Dragons

Do Not Hang Your Head - Elizabeth & The Catapult

Don’t Go My Darlin’ - The National Parks

Dumb Stuff - Lany

Each Shallow Breath - Chase Coy

Everyone Falls - Beth Thornley

Fair Weather Friends - Johnny Cash

Fall For You - Leela James

Fallin’ For You - Colbie Caillat

Falling - Secrets In Stereo

Fall Into Me - Hey Monday

Fifteen - Foy Vance

Fingerprints - Eric Saade

Five - Sleeping At Last

Flying High - Jem

Forever - Matt Hires

Free Like You Make Me - Cary Brothers

Going To Be Wonderful - Tom Rosenthal

Good To Be Alive (Hallelujah) - Andy Grammer

Hallelujah - Gin Wigmore

Heart - The Pretty Reckless

Hear Your Heart - James Bay

Here I Am - Dolly Parton ft. Sia

He’s My Son - Mark Schultz

Hide Away - Hilary Duff

House Of Love - Catherine MacLellan

Hugging You - Tom Rosenthal

I Dare You - The XX

I Do Adore - Mindy Gledhill

I’ll Never Go Away - Erin McCarley ft. Gabe Dixon

I Still Breathe - Apollo Drive

It Keeps You Runnin’ - The Doobie Brothers

Jeanette - Chase Coy

Join The Club - Bring Me The Horizon

Keeping Me Alive - The Afters

Kind - Eisley

Lay It On Me - Vance Joy

Leaving Song - Mary Chapin Carpenter

Left To Dry - Shaimus

Let It Out - Tom Rosenthal

Let’s Run Away - Haley Reinhart

Light Me Up - Ingrid Michaelson

Live Forever - Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors

Long Time Coming - Oliver James

Look After You - Aron Wright

Look Through My Eyes - Everlife

Love Alone - Thriving Ivory

Love Is Stronger Than Death - The The

Love Won’t Sleep - Lostboycrow

Lucky - Kat Edmonson

Meant - Zach Winters

Medicine - The 1975

Million Dollar Secret - Lucius

My Aim Is You - Nikola Sarcevic

My Best Friend - Tim McGraw

My Heart - The Perishers

Never Let This Go - Paramore

Night Go Slow - Catey Shaw

Nobody Knows - Lostboycrow

No One’s Aware - Jack Savoretti

No Such Thing As Time - Elenowen

Only One - Smith Westerns

Our First Kiss - Billy Gilman

Out Of The Blue - Vertical Horizon

Parallel Lines - Future Reference ft. Aron Wright

Pluto - Sleeping At Last

Promise Keeper - Breaking Point

Raindrops - Maggie Eckford

Raining - Of Verona

Rare - Ruth B

Salt Skin - Ellie Goulding

Saved My Life - Fee Waybill

Save You - Simple Plan

Say Something - A Great Big World ft. Christina Aguilera

Send Me All Your Angels - Kris Allen

Side By Side - Sleeping At Last

Six - Sleeping At Last

Sleeping World - Vancouver Sleep Clinic

Soda - Nothing But Thieves

Some Kind Of Home  - Thriving Ivory

Someone  To Stay - Vancouver Sleep Clinic

Soon Goodbye, Now Love - Tom Rosenthal

Sorrowing Man - City & Colour

St. Jude - Florence + The Machine

Stone Of Suffering - Get Set Go

Summer - Benjamin Francis Leftwich

Surrender - Former Vandal ft. Tabi

Take These Things To Heart - Kyler England

Take Your Guess - Tom Rosenthal

Take Your Time - Cary Brothers

Teenage Sonata - Sam Cooke

Temptation - Moby

The One You Love - Passenger ft. Kate Miller-Heidke

The Projectionist - Sleeping At Last

There Is A Dark Place - Tom Rosenthal

The Stars Shine In The Sky Tonight - Eels

Thief - Our Lady Peace

Timebomb - Delta Spirit

Too Young To Feel This Old - You Me At Six

To The Grave - Bea Miller

Traveler - Lostboycrow

Twenty Twelve - Matt Maeson

Two - Sleeping At Last

Wait For You - James Lindsay

We Could Happen - AJ Rafael

We Found Each Other In The Dark - City & Colour

We Gotta Get Out Of This Place - Denmark + Winter

What I Needed - Erin McCarley

Whenever You Need - Jamestown Story

When I Go - Over The Rhine

Where I Can’t Follow - Amy Kuney

Wicked Game - Gemma Hayes

Wild Ones - You Me At Six

Wild Place - Glass Pear

Wish That You Were Here - Florence + The Machine

Without A Fight - Jame Floyd

Without You - AJ Rafael

Wonder - Lauren Aquilina

Won’t Stop Running - A Great Big World

You Ain’t Alone - Alabama Shakes

You And Me - Rosie Thomas

You And Your Heart - We The Lion

You Only Need You - Tom Rosenthal

You’re The One For Me - Delta Rae

You Will Find Me - Andrew Ripp

Part Three: Reader Recommendations

Agape - Bear’s Den

Castor And Pollux - Kathryn Calder

Diamonds - Ben Howard

Eastside - Benny Blanco ft. Halsey/Khalid

I’m Waiting Here - David Lynch ft. Lykke Li

Is There Somewhere - Halsey

Joyful - X Ambassadors

My Boy - Car Seat Headrest

Perfect - Ed Sheeran

The Funeral - Band Of Horses

Tokyo Narita - Halsey ft. Lido

With You - Tyler Shaw

You Are My Sister - Antony And The Johnsons

You Might Be The One - Greyson Chance

[impval]

i wanna ruin our friendship

Queen Maeve x fem! healer reader

Blood, bones, organs, all of that. You could cut through a body without a second thought, and you do, because it was the only way to heal. Vought loves to market you as the shy healer who gets easily flustered, but behind closed doors, there is nothing shy about you.

You and Maeve had known each other for years. Ever since she had first been assigned to The Seven, you had been the one to tend to her injuries after missions. Her usual cynical humour mixed with your own just perfectly.

Healers is nice and humble? No. You'd confront idiots even if they were Supers. There were times when Maeve had to physically stop you from arguing with someone - a Supe, a human, even another member of the Seven. You were so brave, it almost made her jealous.

It's surprising, how caring Maeve can be.

She tries so hard to make you take care of yourself - bringing you healthy food, asking you to go to sleep, arguing with you because of your constant caffeine intake. Deep down, Maeve is the softest person you've ever met. She just doesn't show it to anyone else.

She was your friend. Your best friend.

The soft hum of conversations and light laughter filled the room, mixing with the sound of the musicians playing in the corner.

It was a typical Vought party, flashy and over the top, but also strangely artificial in a way. Everyone was dressed to impress, the elite of society all gathering together under the guise of celebrating some meaningless event.

It was a strange situation - here you were, a healer, someone who devoted whole life to saving and helping... drinking whiskey and surrounded by a egotistical assholes who didn't look twice at the collateral damage. The party was loud and obnoxious, and the two of you did best to stay out of it, hiding away in a secluded corner.

Maeve downs another mouthful, wiping a alcohol from her lips with her sleeve. She glances sideways at you, raising a hand to wave at a bartender. Maeve's mouth quirks a half-smile. "You know, you probably know more about everyone's bodies here than I do."

Maeve had a reputation: she'd sleep with pretty much anyone and discard them just as quickly.

She watches with an amused smile as you take the glass and throw it back like it was nothing. "Gross." you give her a smirk. "Even Starlight?"

You'd always like to tease her about the 'mentor and student' thing that she had with Starlight. Hell, you even joked about her motherly instincts kicking in. And you loved to read the fan fiction that the shippers made, laughing at just how close it got to reality sometimes.

The other Supers avoided the medical wing like the plague, but for Maeve it was like a second home, somewhere she could relax, and just be herself. Most of the time, she'd just lounge around, watching you work - sometimes helping you if you needed an extra pair of hands or support.

"Please stop reading that stuff. It's ridiculous." she'd mutters, shaking her head.

"Hey, hey, this is mercy compared to what I could tease you about," you'd joke, gesturing with your hands. "There's some crazy stuff on here about you and Starlight, you know."

Maeve saw how precise your hands were. How soft and careful they were. She thought about how, if you touched her - really touched her - what it would feel like. She'd spend hours in the medical room simply watching you work. Seeing the way you poured yourself into your work and she knew that your hands only ever gave. But all her touch ever did was take.

But Maeve soon diverts her attention back to the glass in her hand, taking a long, desperate swig of whiskey.

"All better than Homelander."

Well, fair.

The alcohol is beginning to have a noticeable effect on her; her eyes are a softer shade, her movements are a little more carefree, her tongue is a little looser.

When the bartender moves to pour her another drink, you shake your head. "I don't even want to look at your liver. And I definetly don't want to treat it either."

It was always a strange sensation to hear you use that commanding voice. You looked so soft and harmless, it was easy to forget how much power you actually had.

Maeve sighs, putting down her empty glass and watching as the bartender walks away. A part of her is tempted to reach out for the bottle and pour herself another, but she resists the urge. You're right, of course. You've seen the condition of her liver during check ups. You heal her all the time.

"Are you going to force me to be sober all night now then?" Maeve took out a cigarettes, lighting it with a practiced motion. It was almost hypnotic the way she smoked - a small moment of art in the midst of the conversation.

"I just don't want you to whine about Elena all night. Again." You didn't want to discuss Elena at all. If you had a masochistic side, you'd have joined the closed parties for Supes.

For fuck sake, you'd had your fair share of dealing with all kinds of injuries.

Maeve blew smoke right in your face, bitch. "I don't do it that often, don't be dramatic."

But the look on your face clearly indicates the bullshit you think that is. And she knows it. "Okay, okay, maybe I do it a little bit often. But it's just..." she sighed heavily.

Maeve's mind drifts to Elena, and how that relationship ended. Homelander's interference, her own emotional baggage. It was a painful memory.

Well, you could understand where Elena was coming from - Maeve was complex, guarded, and could be so fucking hard to reach at times. But a small, petty part of you couldn't help but think to yourself -

I could have treated Maeve better

"You know, maybe you should just try dating someone else." you posed the question half-jokingly, pretending as if it wasn't a big deal to you. Just a friendly teasing.

The music in the background playing a familiar tune that you recognized from TikTok.

You never made any moves, though. How could you? Maeve was built like a Greek statue. And let's not even talk about your athletic abilities. The last time you played sports was back in high school, and you spent most of your time on the bench because of your asthma. So, she was out of your league.

"Oh, yeah, like it's fucking easy," Maeve mutters, rolling her eyes. "And who, exactly, do you suggest I date then? You got any suggestions, matchmaker?"

Your's smirk only grows, oh, its so fun to tease Maeve. "What about Starlight?"

Maeve rolls her eyes once again, her expression a mix of annoyance and amusement.

"Starlight? You read way too much fanfics. She's more like a little sister to me." she says, shaking her head. "Besides, Homelander would throw a fit if I even suggested that."

Gods, day when this fucker die will be the best day in your life. Bonus, if you see it yourself. "Exactly. Just imagine look at his face!"

You can't help but grin as you picture Homelander's face in your mind - that twisted, angry look he gets whenever something doesn't go his way. It's almost satisfying to imagine, to see that childish look as he throws a tantrum like a manchild he is.

"Okay, maybe it's a little satisfying to imagine." Maeve smirks, extinguishing her cigarette in the ashtray. It's a familiar sight - that smile, the way she looks at you.

And as usual, it makes your heart flutter just a little bit faster.

It was fun to imagine, a little rebellious fantasy between the two of you. But it was just that - a fantasy. Maeve knew that she could never truly do something so reckless and put Starlight's life at risk like that.

She sighs, shaking her head. "Besides, I don't think Starlight would be interested anyway. She's too young for me and straight," she says, jokingly.

What a shame. You lean closer, all soft and playful. "Oh, so you thought about it. Did fanfics set you on the right path?"

Maeve opens her mouth to protest, but shuts it again, knowing that she's been caught. "Once," she says, her tone defensive. "I read it once."

She would never admit it, but Maeve's late nights were spent scrolling through her phone as she read countless fanfics about her and you. The ones that portrayed it like it was a cliché romance movie, where everything was perfect. She would berate herself afterwards, scolding herself and calling herself pathetic for even thinking such things. But Maeve found herself doing it again and again.

You throw your head back and laugh, and Maeve can't help but stare at you. She loves the sound of your voice, the way you laugh so freely and unashamedly. It's a beautiful sight.

Maeve knows that she can't have it all. She's too broken for that. Too damaged. Too much.

Homelander's presence is a constant reminder of that.

So she'll have to settle for these small, quiet moments. The evenings she spent in the medical wing, the conversations at the bar, the brief moments of warmth and laughter.

It's not enough, but it's all she thinks she deserves.

"Having a good time, lovebirds?"

Oh, for fuck sake, just die already..

Maeve stiffens at the sound of Homelander’s voice behind her, her eyes narrowing as he approaches with a fake smile plastered on his face.

Homelander can see the way that the both of you stiffen - both of you, but especially you, and he smirks at the reaction. It's a familiar one, and it never ceases to amuse him, but you? You're a little different.

He looks you up and down, tilting his head to one side as if he's examining you. "Hey, I've wanted to talk to you for ages now," he says, leaning against the bar on your right. "You're the healer, right?"

Maeve glances at you out of the corner of her eyes, watching your expression sour at the sound of his voice. She sympathises - she's seen you patch up his collateral damage up close and personal more than once. And she knows how much that psycho pisses you off.

A part of her would pay good money to see your reaction if Homelander ever showed up in your medical wing, begging for healing.

Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen. But if it does, you gladly let him die.

"You could have talked to me sooner if you had come to the medical wing at least once." you remain calm and composed. Cold, even.

That seems to take him off guard - not that he shows it - but you can tell by the way his eyes narrow that he wasn't expecting that response. "I don't need to go there," he says, leaning forward. "I'm invincible, remember? Nothing can hurt me."

But before you can open your mouth, the smug bastard interrupts you. "I've noticed that you two spend a lot of time together. Is there someone you're hiding from us, Maeve? A little girlfriend, maybe?"

Your eyes meet Maeve's for a brief moment, the look in them clear: don't rise to the bait.

Homelander's smirk only grows when he sees you look at each other, but Maeve's jaw tightens. She knows he's trying to get a reaction out of her, and it's taking all her willpower not to give it to him.

"So?" she replies, her tone nonchalant. "We're coworkers. We're allowed to be friends."

Homelander looks between the two of you once again, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. He's caught onto the fact that the two of you spend a lot of time together, and he wants to know why.

"A coworkers?" he repeats, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're telling me… that there's nothing going on between the two of you?"

"Are you a shipper or something?" you bare your teath at smile.

The music changes, transitioning to a more romantic tune that's more fitting for couples. Couples that are twirling and fucking dancing.

Homelander made sure that Maeve remained alone. A supe as strong as her? The Queen Maeve? There was no way he'd allow her to be with someone he wasn't in complete control of. You hated him.

"I just want what's best for her," a sickly-sweet smile on his face, but eyes narrow again as he sees your lips twitch.

He has no clue that you're scaning him with your power right now. You get a glimpse of his internal structure, noticing how he's built entirely differently from regular humans, even from others Supes. His organs. His muscles. He's been built to be as durable as possible. And then you notice...

Enlarged prostate. Not fatal, sadly, but still, someone gets old? You struggle to hold your amused smirk in check as you see it, a small little imperfection in his perfect form.

You weren't afraid of Homelander. Fuck, you wouldn't bat an eye at facing him. The only reason why you hadn't really seen him in all this time was because Maeve had begged you to stay away. She knew better than anyone that your sharp tongue would get you killed, and so you'd remained out of the way.

But now Maeve can see the look on your face, she's witnessed it many times before. She knows you're on the verge of saying something you probably shouldn't, something snarky, and stupid.

Homelander opens his mouth again to speak, but Maeve beats him to it.

"May I have this dance?"

The music is loud, and the whole room is watching as Maeve holds her hand out to you, asking you a question that you never thought she'd ask.

Everything stops.

Your eyes widen in shock - the Queen Maeve, wanting to dance? It's rare enough to see her interacting with someone else outside her little group, but dancing? With you, of all people?

She looks so bold, so confident that, for a moment, you find yourself frozen. Even her hand trembles, giving away her anxiety, but she keeps her hand extended in invitation to you.

Homelander looks dumbfounded, his arrogant smirk faltering as Maeve stands up. He wasn't expecting that response; he'd thought she'd been drinking too much, or that she'd simply roll her eyes and tell him to get lost.

But she didn't.

Even Maeve is surprised by her own boldness. She's always been impulsive and spontaneous, especially when it comes to you, but dancing? At a Vought party, right in front of Homelander, no less?

For once, you're stunned into silence. You were used to danger - you'd healed people in life-or-death situations, you'd argued with Supers who could kill you in an instant. And you find that you can't do anything but nod, your mouth suddenly dry as you reach out to accept her hand.

She can feel your heart racing in your chest, the beat matching the thump, thump, thump of her own. But none of that is as important as the look in your eyes - and the effect it's having on you.

What Maeve's just done is a big deal. She never wanted to appear too close to you in public. Sitting together at the bar, or in the hospital wing was one thing, but this was entirely different.

Maeve puts her hand around your waist and leads you gently onto the dance floor, the music filling the room and blocking out the noise of the crowd, leaving the two of you in your own private little sphere.

"You always say I'm the reckless fool," you point out, a nervous smirk tugging at your lips. "Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

You know what her body looks like, every inch of it. You've seen scars, old and new, and all her muscles and every bit of skin. So this shouldn't be something special.

But it is.

Despite how calm she tries to look, you know Maeve well enough to see curses going through her mind, but your friend is too damn stubborn to give in now. So she just glares at you, the hint of a frown on her lips, as the two of you start dancing.

The lighting is dim enough to give the room a hazy, romantic feel. There's a faint scent of alcohol on Maeve's breath and her armor feels cool against your skin as she grips your hips, pressing you up against her. You force yourself to look into her eyes as she stares back at you.

"I didn't know you could dance" It's as if all of your usual walls and boundaries have gone. She doesn't think she's ever seen you look so flustered. So exposed.

The look in your eyes was almost too much for Maeve. They were filled with a mixture of emotions, but most of all, there was a look of deep, painful longing. She hadn't allowed herself to think of this before, not with you. You were her friend, the one part of her life that wasn't touched by pain.

With your eyes fixed on hers, Maeve pulls you closer into her arms, moving your hips along to the music. Your faces are almost touching, if she moved just slightly, she'd be able to kiss you.

No one has ever touched you like that. Not just in a romantic sense, but with such tenderness and care, as if you were the most precious thing in the world. You've caught Maeve looking at you before, and you've seen the looks she's given you - but you always dismissed it, thinking that it was just a friend thing.

Maybe it's the circumstances. So much is going wrong that she's tired, so tired -

And you're there. You always have been.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," Maeve says in response, her voice almost a murmur, her breath fanning over your skin.

This isn't her being friendly. Or a joke. Or a laugh.

No... this is Maeve being brave - being braver than she's ever been.

"Sounds like a challenge." such a cliché, friends to lovers.

But she wants to touch and hold and kiss you. Maeve can't believe she's thinking these things right now, here of all places.

She imagines what the feel of your lips against hers would be like- what your skin would feel like against her scarred, calloused hands. She imagines the way she'd kiss your neck, your shoulder, your-

No. These thoughts needs to stop. Before they go too far, before they get dangerous. Homelander's presence reminds her: she cares for you, a lot. But is it worth it if she can lose you? Lose her little safe bubble?

Everyone is terrified of Homelander, including her, but here you were, looking into her eyes with an expression of adoration. But here you are - not scared and dancing with her like there's no one else on the world but the two of you.

Being a healer meant witnessing everything. Every act of horror, every wrong thing supers do - it's all there for you to see, no matter how much you wish you could erase it. There was never a trace of fear in you, no matter who you were standing up to.

Maeve hadn't allowed herself to have any deep connections because she was afraid of heartbreak, of grief, but there was a voice in the back of her head, repeating over and over: Don't be a coward. Be brave.

The song comes to an end, but neither of you move to pull away from one another. You're still pressed up against Maeve, your chest almost flat against hers. She's staring down at you, her eyes searching yours as she tries to figure out what you're feeling.

There's no going back now - not with cameras flashing, people whispering - is this Ashley swears at background? - and your heart beating so hard, it feels as if it's in your throat. But even if Maeve decided to laugh this off, to turn it into a joke (girls being pals, right?), the Internet would still explode with photos of this dance between the two of you.

And this... this actually helped her to be braver than she's ever been before.

With your heart hammering so violently in your chest, you barely register the words she whispers in your ear, but the meaning isn't lost on you.

She doesn't want to be a coward. Doesn't want to be terrified of Homelander.

If you agree, that is. With her. With this.

And god, you want this. You've fantasised this scene a thousand times; Maeve confessing her feelings, telling you that she wants to be more than friends, but it's real now.

Everything else - the noise of the party, the cameras, Homelander's fury - it all fades into the background as you kiss her.

It's gentle and soft, chaste, but it still makes her head spin. You're kissing her, in front of a room full of people, and you're doing it like it's the simplest thing in the world.

People are talking, whispering and looking, Ashley is probably gonna lose the more of her hair after this (you'll have to give her an heal in compensation), and Homelander is no doubt furious, but none of that matters.

There's nothing in her mind, but you - the feel of your body in her arms, the taste of your lips, and the way your heart beats against her chest.

It's wonderful to finally be brave.

[bittersweetimaginings]

Hi! Can you write Queen Maeve x reader (she/her) where Maeve and reader were broken up, but after the plane crash in season one, Maeve goes to the reader, and they get back together?

In your arms • Queen Maeve

⚠️Content warning: Mentions of trauma, depression, panic attacks, the plane sequence, Homelander’s general awfulness, alcoholism, self-destructive behavior and unstable relationship.

*These characters do not belong to me, all rights to their respective owners, this is just a piece of entertainment by and for fans.

Summary: In the wake of a traumatic event and horrid realizations, Maggie comes back to you.

Reader’s pronouns: She/Her

Keys: Y/N = Your Name, Y/MN = Your Mother’s name/nickname. In case you’ve forgotten: Margaret “Maggie” Shaw is the real name of Queen Maeve in the series. 

Author's note: If you want to send your own request, please check the Disclaimer & Rules post and the MASTERLIST post to see more content and which characters are available; Idk if Maeve is OCC, I rewatched a lot of her scenes with Elena and she always seems to be much more vulnerable around her, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

"Maybe it was a bad idea." Maeve reflects for the first time since leaving that liquor store with enough alcohol in hand to supply an entire party; but her regret doesn't do much good, after all, she's already knocked on your door and she can hear movement through it that indicates you're on your way to open it and once you do, you can't stop a mixture of surprise and confusion invading your facial expression;  she is standing in front of you after so long, wearing loose and somewhat disheveled clothes, her hair looks a bit messy and although you can't see her at all, you notice her tired face and her puffy eyes that hint she might have been crying for a long time before coming here.

"Hey, Y/N." she greets you in a small voice, for some reason unable to look directly at you.

“Maeve?!” you asked more surprised than angry, even though you had reason enough to be, the last time you saw her she treated you so coldly that depression caught you for a long time.

You can see her carefully thinking about her answer before speaking again.

"Can- Can I come in?"

You hesitate for a few seconds, looking her up and down, trying to gauge her intentions somehow, but it's hard to know what she's up to; having come to you so unexpectedly after so long, and even though a part of you wants to slam the door right in her face, there is also something in you that ultimately notices how restless Maeve seems and you can't ignore the feeling of worry that comes over you; so just by nodding and without saying anything you let her in.

Maeve walks in so carefully and with so much hesitation, she manages to remind you of a shy baby deer exploring an unfamiliar area.

"Tea?" you offer as you walk into the kitchen on your way to turn off the pot you left on before her arrival and she gently accepts the offer.

The silence is awkward and Maeve's gaze travels over the details of your home as she waits for you to return from your trip to the kitchen, until she finally settles on one of the framed photos on the main shelf: in it you are smiling radiantly while holding your doctorate degree in your hands; Maeve smiles back with genuine happiness and pride, in her mind she remembers the many times in the past when you told her your life plan and the enthusiasm and determination in your eyes when you swore to heaven and earth that you would become one of the greatest exponents in your field.

Your steps announcing your return capture her attention and she congratulates you with a smile still present.

“Hey, you got it! When was the ceremony?

"A month ago, right on my mom's birthday." You hand her the cup of tea while taking a sip from your own as you respond calmly.

“Y/MN birthday? Man, bet she didn’t stop bragging about it to her friends, she’s right in doing so though, you’ve always been the smartest one in the room” she chuckles fondly to herself and although you enjoy this moment, you also feel some anger seeing Maeve act so nonchalantly as if time had frozen in a past where both were happy, maybe that's why you aggressively bring her back to reality.

“Why are you here?” the spark of anger inside you dripping in your tone.

Her smile fades into her previous timid and unsure demeanor and once again avoids your gaze.

“I was in the area and I thought…you know, If um, you wanna maybe…get some food? or we could-”

“Are you serious?” you cut her off and she stops immediately, not entirely sure what you want her to say.

“Margaret, you know how long it’s been? It's been 5 years since I last saw you! and now what? all of a sudden you show up at my door, looking like shit, acting like nothing has happened and you wanna go grab dinner?! bullshit!”

The anger in your words seems to hit her really hard with the truth of the situation, as she struggles to find her voice over the knot now forming in her throat, she declares quietly and sadly:

“This was a bad idea, I’m sorry.”

She turns her back on you, ready to leave just like the last time you saw her, and this only angers you even more.

“You haven’t changed at all, always leaving without an explanation, brave Maeve my ass, you’re a coward that’s what you are!” As soon as the words leave your mouth a part of you regrets it, but also your chest somehow now feels lighter, as if all you had said had liberated all the anger, sadness, resentments and insecurities Margaret had left you with 5 years ago.

Your breakup was one of the hardest things you had to deal with in your life, it happened at a point in time where what you needed most was the support of your dear girlfriend; your world was genuinely crashing down on you and yet Margaret left you, one day she just came to pack up her things and end the relationship without even giving you a reason why; You still remember how you chased her around the house, begging her not to leave, but she just locked the front door with her super strength preventing you from following her to the Vought limo she left in. Next thing you know, you're seeing your beloved girlfriend on VNN alongside Homelander confirming their relationship.

It was just so painful; it seemed like all this time, all the things you two had shared meant nothing, like you meant nothing. What a horrid realization, you almost let it crush you, almost, but you were strong and people in your family depended on you to keep living, so giving up was out of the question; In the end you “suck it up” and bury yourself in your work and studies like there’s no world outside of it. More than once you tried to get back in the dating world, but even though you would never admit to it outloud, the memory of your beloved Maggie ever present in your heart just wouldn’t let you. After everything you still loved her.

She stands there, frozen and silent like a ghost, room so quiet you start to become aware of your own ragged breathing, but then you hear it; faint yet desperate the sobs of Margaret break into your ears.

“You’re right.” she admitted, back still turned on you and her head slightly lowered.

“I am nothing but a coward.” she whines softly as she unsuccessfully tries to quiet down her sobbing but it starts to break in a choked and painful crying.

Through your rage, Margaret’s sadness and pain reaches you; you can’t see her face but you know by the sound of her cries it must bare a pitiful expression and so you breathe slowly in order to calm yourself down, and it’s only there that you notice her shaking form, you almost become scared for a split second, it feels like if she were to take a step forward she would fall to her knees instantly.

It’s been a long time since you last saw her like this, but you just know she’s going through it, she’s going through a panic attack.

“Hey, hey Margaret.” you call out softly to her as you slowly make your way over in an equally detained and dubious manner as she did once she entered the apartment.

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” you chant repeatedly as you finally stand in front of her and try your best to not cry as well. Once you see the unbearable pain in her expression, her breathing is ragged and agitated and through her gaze you see that her mind is not entirely here and seems to struggle in recognizing her surroundings.

“Maggie, it’s ok, you’re in my home, ok?” you assure her a few times but she still struggles now even in finding her footing as her legs start to give in.

“I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry.” Her frenetic apology concerns you but manage to keep your calm as you reassure her once again and remind her to breathe constantly.

She finally seems to recognize her surroundings but once she does she breaks in painful crying once again. 

“I left them there, I left them there and said nothing, I left them there to die.” she confesses but before you have any time to ask her what she’s referring to, her knees give in and collapses.

You manage to hold her before she hits the floor, as you briefly think of the irony, one of the strongest individuals in the world feels so fragile between your arms; She apologizes endlessly once again in between choked sobs and frenetic cries, but you hug her and caress her hair and back in repetitive motions in an attempt to calm her down, it seems to work and after a few minutes you can feel the panic in her system begin to dwindle as her breaths stabilizes slowly but she continues sobbing.

Maggie’s head is trying to find the correct words to tell you, to let you know; She didn’t want to abandon you, she never did; after all these years you still are her world and the only thought in her mind that keeps her going at times like this. She only left because she was pressured into a relationship with america’s golden hero and after seeing him kill so ruthlessly without a care in the world and Vought covering for him, she knew if she didn’t left, the moment homelander found out about you, that would be your death sentence and she wasn’t about to let anything happen to you…even if that meant she would never see you again. 

Maggie only speaks once again after a while.

“I’m sorry.” Unlike the last apologies this one feels like is directed towards you instead of whatever or whoever occupied her memories at the time. 

You take a minute trying to figure out what to do next, you want to question her on the meaning of her previous statements, but recognize that right now is not the right time, so you resume caressing her back as she continues to cry ever so softly on your shoulder.

For the first time in years, Margaret allows herself to be vulnerable, for the first time in years she doesn’t feel all alone and right now at this very moment, right here in your arms, for the first time in years she’s not Queen Maeve, just Maggie, the one who loves you endlessly.