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honey-flustered · 9 months ago

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Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

Older!Eddie photo edit by: @/eddiemunsons-missingnipple

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fully by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

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iichfilwypj · 20 days ago

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make or not the bracelet! | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: none! ღ wc: 700 pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7

“Not a chance” he said once more, tidying up the chaos that was his cabin. She was right on his heels, her lower lip jutting out in a dramatic pout. Each time he managed to tidy up a spot, she undid his efforts.

“Please, I'm begging you!” In a few short days, they would be at his house. Meeting your best friend’s mom might not sound like a big deal, but she was terrified. Her solution? Making bracelets as a gift for Sally! “She’s going to love them!”

As he folded a t-shirt again, he responded, “Sure, but what’s the point? We can just buy her some.” He understood the difference when a cushion slammed into his head. He returned the gesture with the folded t-shirt. “Why does it matter so much? She’s literally my mom, we don’t need to bring her anything.”

“But, you know…” her voice trembled, giving her away. Seeing how she raised her hand and nervously bit her nails, he understood everything.

“No way you are nervous” He approached her, gently holding her wrist in his hand. He searched her eyes for a response, but her gaze was fixed on the floor. “It’s just my mom.”

He understood that she was intimidated by meeting new people, but his mom? Oh, his mom would love her! Percy had been talking with Sally about her nonstop for weeks, and he couldn’t recall a single bad thing being mentioned; he couldn't remember having any bad thoughts about her at all.

He mentally jotted down a reminder to discuss this later, but for now, he wanted to calm her down. “I know how you’re feeling, but I promise she’ll adore you. And I’m not saying this just because she’s my mom; she’s the kindest woman in the world –she literally likes Annabeth, so you can believe me–. You’ll love her, and she’ll love you too, okay?”

She finally looked up to find his eyes. Her eyebrows were knitted together with concern, and he brushed his finger between them to erase the crease. She smiled at his gesture and nodded.

He pulled a silly face and vigorously shook his head. “Mhm, no, I need to hear you say it.”

“Okay, Perseus Jackson.” Grabbing a random book from the bed and using it as a fan, she replied to him. “Is that enough, or do I need to send you a formal notice, nice gentleman?”

“That would be perfect, thank you ma’am” He bowed in a way that made laughter impossible to resist. In silence, they sat down, sharing an unspoken agreement that the mess could wait until later.

The cabin fell silent, and memories from the previous day flooded his mind. Just as he was about to say something, she spoke up.

“But hold on, can we make the bracelet?”

“Nop.”

“How the hell do you tie this shit?” Percy was biting his tongue so intensely that she almost told him to stop. For someone who had refused for hours, he seemed overly invested in the task.

They were sitting on the beach, and everything felt very relaxing. Well, except for him. He was not relaxing at all.

“I thought you didn’t want to do this?” she remarked, glancing at her own bracelet. Suddenly, a hand hit her arm, nearly making her drop everything. “Hey!”

“I'm making it because you made me!” she shot him an offended look as he struggled to hide a smile. He really didn’t want to make one, but since his friend did, his fingers would have to suffer a little longer.

Without thinking, she launched herself at him. The force of their movement was too much; the delicate strings tore apart, sending beads and threads scattering across the sand.

“My bracelet!” Percy shouted as she stood up, slowly backing away. He jumped to his feet and dashed after her, who was already trying to escape. “I’m going to kill you!”

They didn’t care that other campers could hear their laughter, and they didn't mind that their clothes were now covered in sand. The nymphs in the water watched with delight as they fell to the ground, launching into a lively tickle fight that echoed with screams and joy.

Oh, the gossip in the ocean was only getting better and better.

hi! i don't know, i might delete it and re-write it because i like the idea but not the result. i want to sleep so bad but i have insomnia :( anyways! i have no idea how to put those pretty divider but i did my best! ALSOO tell me what you wanna seeee! some fights, more fluff, comfort, anything! AND I SWAR i'm gonna make them kiss soon :))) love u all <3333

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #fanfic #percy jackson x you #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x y/n #perc

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imaginespazzi · 4 months ago

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Part 3: Miss Me, Miss Me Not

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

And it hits me when the lights go on (shit, maybe I miss you)

(In which a lazy writer somehow still manages to make her deadlines, much to her own shock)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 5.8K

TW: Swearing (once again I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I'm not gonna lie til about an hour ago, I very much did not think I was gonna give y'all a Monday update but here we are! A couple of housekeeping things, I went back and added months to the years so hopefully that's more helpful. I lowkey dislike this part but I felt like the fic needed it and I'm excited to write the next part. Ngl, the editing on this is pretty nonexistent because trying to read this back lowkey killed me so please feel free to point out mistakes so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, and disliked and anything you wanna see going forward. I really appreciate all of y'alls feedback and the long reviews make my day! Have a good rest of your week lovies <3

September 2017

Azzi: just got home :)

It’s a simple text and it should be easy for Paige to conjure up an equally simple reply. Instead she finds herself typing and deleting, over and over, because nothing sounds quite right. There’s this hollow feeling thrumming in her chest, that has only gotten stronger every passing minute since she’d said goodbye to Azzi at the airport. If she tries hard enough, she can still feel the remnants of their last hug lingering against every inch of her skin. She wants to memorize that feeling and create a blanket out of its threads to numb the ice cold shiver that’s been repeatedly running through her veins from the second Azzi had gotten on that plane. But even that might not be enough. Not when she’s learnt just how warm Azzi’s presence can be and how everything else pales in comparison.

Paige lies to herself that it’s an accidental slip of her fingers, that she’d meant to press send not call, that she had every intention of hanging up the facetime on the first ring itself.

But then Azzi picks up on the second one.

And really it would be rude to hang up.

“Hey what’s up?” Azzi’s face fills the screen, tired eyes staring intently at Paige through the screen.

“Oh um-” Paige fumbles for words, awkwardly shuffling her feet that are dangling off the side of her bed, “I just wanted to ask how your flight was?”

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “you couldn’t have texted me that?”

“Too tired to text,” Paige lies and the words i just wanted to hear your voice stay stuck, burning hot, in her throat, “gotta save these money-making fingers for more important things.”

“Yeah I’m hanging up-”

“NO-” it comes out far more forceful than it should and if possible, Azzi’s eyebrow shoots up even farther, as Paige clears her throat, “I mean- uh- you didn’t tell me how your flight was.”

Paige is too busy cringing at herself to notice the light blush that tinges Azzi’s cheeks. She’s too busy wondering why this girl brings out this nervous bumbling side of hers to notice the fond smile that almost cracks through Azzi’s lips.

“The flight was okay. I actually got to sleep this time,” Azzi says pointedly and Paige laughs.

“So what you’re saying is it was boring as hell.”

“I’m saying it was really peaceful not having someone yapping in my ear while I was trying to sleep.”

“So you didn’t miss me?” Paige presses, trying to keep her voice teasing despite how desperately she wants the admission.

Azzi hesitates, as if she’s debating with herself, before, “I didn’t say that.”

It’s a little ridiculous how large Paige’s grin is but it’s okay, because Azzi’s smiling back, soft and shy. They’d look foolish to anyone else, the way they’re so intently gazing at each other through a screen as if there’s no barrier between them at all.

“It’s gonna be weird going to the gym without you tomorrow morning,” Paige confesses after a second, moving to lay down on her stomach.

“I bet. You’re gonna get absolutely nothing done without me,” Azzi teases dramatically before her eyes soften, “it’s weird that I’m not gonna see you at all tomorrow.”

There’s something gut-wrenching about that admission and yet, there’s something in it that heals a part of Paige’s heart that she hadn’t even known needed to be fixed. It means something to her that Azzi must feel it too. Because if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been just a little afraid that maybe the connection was just in her head, that maybe Azzi was simply tolerating her presence out of kindness.

“You should just move to Minnesota,” Paige replies finally, “much nicer than Virgina or whatever.”

“Have you ever even been to Virginia?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she flips herself to lie on her back, holding her phone above her in a way that lets Paige see entirely too much and yet not nearly enough.

“No but it sounds boring as fuck.”

“Not with me,” Azzi says, biting her bottom lip sheepishly as soon as the words are out.

Paige smirks, suddenly filled with a brand new confidence, “yeah? You’d make Virgina interesting for me Fudd? What would we do?”

Azzi licks her lips and Paige feels her mouth go dry.

“We’d be together,” the younger girl says finally, averting her gaze as the depth of her words begin to make Paige feel like she’s being flooded by an ocean of emotions she’s not quite ready to feel yet, “anything can be interesting if we’re together.”

It would be so easy to come up with a sarcastic quip or tease Azzi for being a sap and yet there’s a certain sincerity in this moment that feels too fragile for Paige to feign nonchalance.

“Is Virginia nice in the winter?” she asks finally, hands fidgeting with the hair ties secured around her wrist, “Minny’s a little too cold sometimes.”

Azzi’s eyes shine and Paige wants to try and read them, find the little clues hidden in her irises and solve the mystery lingering behind the crimson flush of her cheeks. But the truth is that Paige is a little scared of what she’d find, a little scared that discovering Azzi might mean discovering herself too.

“You should come find out some time,” the brunette says, casual tone filled with intricacies of something far deeper. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to saying anything of actual substance and they tip-toe around saying what they both want, daring the other to ask first.

“I dunno,” Paige says, determined to win the game, “I’m not in the habit of showing up to places without a proper invite.”

Azzi scoffs, “a proper invite? Are you expecting someone to send you a carrier pigeon with a gold letter addressed to her royal highness or something?”

“That would be nice,” Paige surmises and Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Does your back ever hurt from carrying that ego?”

“Only hurts from carrying my team.”

“Oh my god you’re so full of it.”

“Full of talent? Yessirrrr.”

Azzi huffs, “Paige.”

“Azzi,” Paige hums.

“Do you wanna come visit me in Virginia during winter break?” Azzi says finally, a small smile playing on her lips like she’s okay with losing this game as long as it’s to Paige.

“If I must,” Paige says dramatically, shrugging her shoulders and everything as Azzi lets out an offended squeak. But inside, her heart flutters at the offer, at the idea of seeing Azzi again, even if it feels like a lifetime away. Because as long as it’s Azzi on the other side, Paige and her impatient self can wait however long it takes.

“Actually you know what nevermind, you don’t gotta come,” Azzi concedes bitterly, scrunching her face (and Paige would never tell her this but she thinks Azzi looks just a little too cute when she’s mad and so maybe she riles her up on purpose)

“No takesies backsies Az,” Paige sing-songs before her lips uptick from a smirk into something more sincere, “hey Az,” she whispers, giggling to herself when Azzi pretends to ignore her, “I’d really like to come see you in Virginia during winter break.”

And as a brilliant grin dazzles across Azzi’s face, Paige realizes that her favorite thing about Azzi’s smile isn’t when her dimples show or when her eyes twinkle, it’s when it’s there because of Paige, when it’s there just for Paige.

“Good,” Azzi whispers as they fall into a comfortable silence.

There’s this serene sense of calm that laces itself around Paige’s nerves. Her normally fidgeting body is content to be perfectly still, an anomaly to her usual demeanor. The truth is that Paige isn’t the kind of person who’s okay with just existing; she likes to spend every second in motion, living out the high. There’s a part of her that’s scared of missing moments, scared that the people around her will leave her behind if she doesn’t chase them. But it’s different with Azzi. The younger girl makes Paige feel like it’s okay if she takes a moment to just breathe. Because Azzi will wait. Because Azzi won’t leave Paige behind.

“Wait,” it’s a little while before Azzi pipes up, shaking Paige out of her thoughts, “what time is it?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to the time on her phone, confused by the line of questioning, “it’s almost 9 why?”

“Don’t you have a team party or something to go to tonight?” Azzi asks, face scrunching, “I swear you told me you had something tonight.”

“Oh-yeah- Amaya’s back to school thing,” Paige sheepishly scratches her neck, suddenly feeling itchy in her flannel shirt. She’d forgotten she was wearing that instead of her daily clothes. Hell, she’d forgotten she was supposed to be going somewhere in the first place, too occupied with other thoughts.

“Bro get up,” Azzi orders, “you’re already late.”

“Nah it’s fine. I don’t think I’m gonna go,” Paige says and she thinks she should probably feel a little more guilty about it.

“What do you mean you’re not gonna go?” Azzi asks in disbelief, “dude you’re the star of the team. You have to go.”

“Amaya will understand besides-” Paige drags in a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as the next words fall out in a quiet whisper, “I don’t wanna hang up yet.”

“Paige c’mon we can talk tomorrow,” Azzi tries to protest but it’s half-hearted at best.

“I wanna talk right now,” Paige argues, “you don’t wanna talk to me?”

For a second Paige thinks Azzi might just say no, might just chip away a little bit of heart with a well-intentioned rejection, but she doesn’t, “always wanna talk to you P.”

“Then don’t hang up. Talk to me.”

And Azzi does. All night.

Two weeks laters there’s a letter, in an envelope with a picture of a carrier pigeon, that arrives in the Bueckers’ mail box.

To her royal highness,

Unfortunately I couldn’t find an actual carrier pigeon (I swear I tried) so this envelope and the mailman will have to do.

~ You are formally invited this winter break to the Fudd family residence in Virginia. ~

(And you better show up Bueckers)

Yours,

Azzi

February 2033

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Ice whines petulantly as she makes herself comfortable on the couch across from where Paige is getting her makeup done, “this is parental neglect.”

Paige laughs, eyes closed, her makeup artist does her mascara, “you’ll survive.”

“You don’t know that” Ice argues, plucking a grape from the fruit basket before segueing into a rant about how boring Arlington, Texas is.

Paige is grateful for the distraction her younger friend is providing. Her nerves had been on edge since the moment she’d woken up this morning, anxious to get the impending farewell press conference over with. She’d already started accepting that the Wings weren’t the right place for her but that feeling had only been heightened by her trip to the Valkyries. And ever since she’s come back, Paige feels a little bit like she’s sleepwalking through her final moments in Dallas. If she’s honest, she’s probably rushing things a little bit. There’s still plenty of time before she really has to move to Oakland but it had been her choice to move there as soon as possible. Paige had always been good at conjuring excuses and she had plenty as to why she needed to be in California so soon. But at the end of the day it isn’t about training or team bonding or any of the other hundred justifications she’s given anyone who’s asked. It’s about a little girl who’s eyes had been brimming with tears when saying goodbye, a little girl who had made Paige pinky swear that she’d be back as soon as possible.

Really, Paige thinks she should be applauded for her restraint, because truth be told, the second Stephie’s lower lip had trembled, Paige had been prepared to ask Ice to just ship her stuff to Oakland so that she’d never have to let go of the little girl’s hand.

And here’s the thing, Paige is willing to admit she wants to go back to the Bay Area for Stephie. It’s that pesky little part of her that’s desperate to go back for Stephie’s mother, to go back for one more hesitant yet lingering touch, that she won’t ever share with anyone else.

“I never thought I’d live to see you and Azzi willingly playing together again,” Ice says as soon as Paige’s makeup artist leaves the room, “KK and I didn’t even try betting on it, we were that sure it wouldn’t happen. Shit I should have. I totally would have won.”

“Don’t y’all get tired of betting on my life?” Paige asks, rolling her eyes, trying to ignore the first part of what Ice said.

“Betting on your life has made me hundreds of dollars bro,” Ice says, before a more earnest look crosses her face, “but genuinely P, are you sure about this? There’s a lot of history there.”

Paige sighs, “it’s not about our history. It’s a basketball decision. And we’re both mature adults who know that. I’m just tryna win. Nothing else.”

“It’s never nothing when it comes to you two.”

“It is this time,” Paige argues adamantly and Ice raises her hands in surrender.

“I just don’t want another set of teammates to have to deal with y’alls bullshit,” the younger girl teases, but it’s laced with a hint of seriousness that sends a flare of guilt shooting through Paige’s body.

“Ice-” she begins.

But Ice is quick to change to a lighter subject, “can’t believe Jana’s the one that gets mom and dad back together. I always knew she was the favorite.”

“We didn’t have favorites,” Paige plays along, thankful for Ice and her ability to always keep the tension to a bare minimum.

“Oh don’t lie. We all know you did,” Ice scoffs and then lets out a chuckle, “and now Azzi’s actually a mom. That’s kinda insane. And you met the kid right?”

“Yeah. Yeah I did,” Paige says and she can’t help the way her entire face breaks into a gleaming smile as her thoughts turn into memories of Stephie. She doesn’t even realize she’s gotten lost in a different world until Ice coughs, an amused grin playing on her lips.

“You’re so royally fucked Paige,” Ice shakes her head, “the only person I’ve seen you smile that big for before is Azzi.”

“She’s a cute, smart, adorable kid, that’s why I’m smiling,” Paige tries to defend herself.

“She’s Azzi’s cute, smart, adorable kid,” Ice counters.

“That has nothing to do with it,” Paige protests again but it rings hollow to her own ears.

“Oh my god I needa call KK and get this bet started. It’s only a matter of time for real,” Ice says, more to herself than to Paige, as she whips out her phone, probably texting KK.

“A matter of time till what?”

“You’ll find out Paigey,” Ice says gravely with a mocking smile, patting Paige’s head, “all in due time.”

***

The Dallas Wings media room is buzzing, reporters desperate to ask Paige questions and the blonde tries to maintain a smile despite the fact that her heart is lurching in her throat right now. Her opening speech had been short and sweet, parroting basically the same thing that had gone out on her social media the night before; she’d been desperate to just get it out. Generally, Paige is pretty good with the media, having been immersed in the spotlight since basically forever. The attention and how to maneuver it has always come naturally to her so she’s not sure why she feels so unnerved by it all today. From the back of the media room, Ice sends her a thumbs up and a reassuring grin and Paige lets out a breath, glad to have at least that comforting presence with her.

“Aidrian Ginsburger with Bleacher Report, Paige, you’ve obviously spent all of your career so far with the Wings, can you tell us a little bit about the impact this organization has had on you?”

Paige smiles at the question, letting her brain skim through pages and pages of fond memories she has of time spent with this team. It might be time to move on but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of cherished moments.

“Yeah um- this place has really shaped who I am as a person. Since day one, the front office, obviously it’s a different one to the one I came in with, they did a lot to make sure that I was comfortable. My teammates through the years have been incredible and I wouldn’t be the player I am today without them. And of course the fans you know, they always showed out for the team, for me. Always supported me in anyways and I hope that I was able to give back the love to them that they always gave to me,” she says, suddenly nostalgic for the team that had started it all.

The next questions are similar in nature and Paige’s answer varies only in words but not substance. She feels herself start to settle into it, now fielding the expected questions about the Wings and Valkyries with an air of confidence. There are a couple questions about Azzi that make her heart thump, but that was to be expected. It’s a pretty brilliant story in the making, two MVPs who used to play on the same college team coming together. Talia had warned Paige in advance that there was no avoiding it. But for the most part the questions have an easy answer about how Azzi’s a brilliant player and she’s excited to play with her old friend again. That is until a familiar hand shoots up and all the tension that had previously dissipated, comes roaring back with a vengeance.

“Olivia Reynolds with the Dallas Morning News, Paige, as others have said today, you and Azzi Fudd played together at UConn and you were best friends.” Olivia’s eyes glint viciously, “I mean it’s pretty well documented how hard you tried to recruit her to UConn. But despite being best friends, the two of you have been never seen hanging out, outside of games and formal events, unlike your other teammates that is-”

“Is there a point to this?” Paige asks, hands fisting in her lap as she tries to keep herself calm.

Olivia smiles, sugary sweet, “I was just wondering if maybe there was some tension and how that would affect your on-court chemistry at the Valkyries?”

“There’s no tension,” Paige lies through gritted teeth, “we didn’t hang out because we live far apart. There isn’t much else to it. And even if there was, Azzi and I are professionals. We wouldn’t let anything off the court affect our goal to win.”

“You lived far apart before UConn too, but that didn’t seem to stop you guys. What changed?” Olivia presses.

“Time did. Our lives did. There’s nothing sensational here. It’s just a case of two people drifting apart,” Paige says and the fabrication feels heavy on her tongue. If only it really had been that simple.

“But clearly not that much,” Olivia says, and Paige glances at the moderator, desperate for an intervention, “there were plenty of fan pictures of the two of you out getting ice cream with Azzi’s daughter. It seems like you’re already fitting into that Bay Area life-”

“I’m not hearing a question at the end of your sentence,” Paige hisses and she can practically already hear the scolding she’s going to get from Talia once her agent gets wind of how this press conference had gone. The entire media cohort is watching the exchange with wide eyes, no doubt questioning whether they were embarrassed or impressed by their colleague. Ice is mouthing something to Paige, probably something along the lines of please keep your shit together, but Paige is steaming. Really, she should have expected this.

“Well if you’d let me finish,” Olivia snarls, the façade of innocence dropping, “even if the two of you have drifted, as you put it, clearly there’s still a relationship there. How big of a role did Azzi Fudd play in your choice to move to the Valkyries?”

Paige sucks in a deep breath, nails digging into her palm at the question, “Azzi is the best shooting guard in the country. That was her role in my decision to move to the Valkyries. I don’t know what else you’re trying to imply, but I want to play with her because we play well together. That’s it,” she stands up and there’s pin drop silence, “thank you all for coming but we’re done with this press conference.

***

Paige is seething as she exits the media room, Ice hot on her heels trying to calm her down. The sane part of her knows she should head back to the makeup room or even to her car, instead she finds her feet carrying her in the direction of where she knows Olivia Reynolds will be, reviewing her press conference notes by the coffee machine like she always is.

“What the actual fuck was that?” Paige spits as she comes to a halt in front of the reporter.

“I know you think playing basketball is the only job in the world Paige, but that was a reporter doing her job,” Olivia says, her calm and composed voice only furthering Paige’s irritation.

“Bull-fucking-shit.” Paige sneers, “that wasn’t a reporter out there, that was my ex-wife grilling me like we were back in fucking divorce court.”

Olivia cocks her head, “oh so you do remember who I am to you then?”

“Oliv-”

“Because if you did remember, I’d like to think you’d have the courtesy to at least personally tell me that you were moving to your,” she drops her voice, “ex-girlfriend’s team instead of letting me find out with the rest of the world. You don’t think you owed me that?”

“That’s what this is about?” Paige sighs, “Olivia we’ve been divorced for almost three years now, I don’t owe you-”

“You didn’t owe Azzi anything either,” Olivia whisper-yells, the calm in her voice replaced by the same anger that had tainted the last year of their marriage, “but when we first started dating, you kept us a secret for months. You wouldn’t even tell your fucking teammates cause you were so scared she’d find out,” her eyes drift towards Ice who looks like she wishes she’d made a different decision rather than following Paige out here, “you said she deserved to hear it from you but apparently I don’t-’

“I didn’t mean it like that Olivia. Look, I meant what I said up there. There’s nothing between- ”

“Spare me,” Olivia says, as she stuffs her notepad into her bag, “you can lie to all those other reporters out there about how all of this is a basketball decision. You can even lie to yourself if you want. But you can’t lie to me, not when I spent four years fighting to keep our relationship from getting crushed under whatever it is that Azzi is to you.”

***

It doesn’t matter how far Paige burrows her head into her pillows, she can’t seem to stop herself from hearing Olivia’s words reverberating through her ears. The two of them had done well at co-existing in their social circles after the divorce had been finalized. While no one could quite call them friends, they’d done a good job at being friendly, being able to converse and share an occasional drink when in their combined friend group. And if Paige is honest, she knows she’s fucked up, knows she probably did owe Olivia a call. But calling Olivia would have meant calling someone who would inevitably make Paige face the truth, just like she had today. The truth that, even with the deal Talia had concocted with the Liberty hanging in the background like a dark presence, the move to the Valkyries was about a lot more than just basketball for Paige.

She’s so entrenched in her thought that she doesn’t bother checking who it is when the facetime rings, irritation seeping into her voice as she answers it, face still buried in her pillows, “WHAT?”

“Miss Buecks?” a tiny voice comes through the phone and for a second, Paige thinks she must be dreaming, until she finally lifts her head to look at her phone, and Stephie’s small face lights up the whole screen. And it’s like she can feel little hands on her shoulders, slowly unknotting her tightened muscles.

“Stephie,” she breathes out, a sudden sense of serene calm washing over her previously tense body.

“Hi Miss Buecks,” Stephie says happily before she squints at the screen, “you sleep weird.”

Paige laughs, “and why’s that?”

“You’re not wearing pajamas and it’s only seven. ‘Dults don’t sleep at seven,” Stephie says matter-of-factly.

“It’s actually nine here,” Paige says, a little surprised by the time; she hadn’t realized she'd been moping in her bed for that long. Ice had forced her to get lunch together, not wanting to leave Paige alone after the encounter with Olivia. Once she’d finally gotten back to her apartment, Paige had flopped on her bed, taking out her frustrations on her poor pillow.

“That’s not poss-ble,” Stephie scrunches her face, “Mama’s phone says it’s seven.”

“It’s seven in California, it’s nine in Texas,” Paige tries to explain though by the way Stephie’s looking at her, she thinks she’s probably just confusing the girl more, “how’d you figure out how to call me babe?”

Stephie gives her an exasperated look, “Miss Buecks I’m five. I know how to use facetime.”

“And does your Mama know you're facetiming me?” Paige asks, eyebrows raised.

“She’s in the shower,” Stephie whispers, grinning sheepishly.

As if on cue, Azzi appears on the corner of the screen and Paige feels her mouth run dry. The darker skinned woman is clad in a light pink fluffy bathrobe that ends right above her knees, giving Paige the perfect view of her long, toned legs that seem to shimmer despite the shitty quality of the facetime. Rivulets of water cling to her neck, delicately cascading down the valley of her breasts before disappearing from sight. And Paige must be dehydrated because never has she wanted to taste a drop of liquid more than she does right now.

“Stephie,” Azzi groans, as she walks towards the phone and Paige gulps, heart beating faster with every step the other woman takes, everything about her becoming clearer and clearer, “what did I say about using my phone.”

“Only in em-a-gencies,” Stephie recites, “but Mama I had an em-a-gency.”

Azzi tilts her head, eyebrows raised as she gives her daughter a knowing look, “and what was your emergency?”

“I really, really, really, this much” Stephie stretches out her hands as far as they’ll go, really, really, really, miss Miss Buecks.”

Paige feels her heart flutter. Stephie’s words feel like a hand carefully pulling her out from under the pile of stress she’d been buried under the whole day. It’s like the little girl is pushing away the rubble pressing against her lungs, turning the rocks into dust with a light touch and Paige feels like she can finally breathe.

“Sounds like a pretty big emergency to me,” she says, relishing the way Stephie’s face lights up at the admission, “cause I really, really, really miss you too Steph.”

“See Mama,” Stephie says, placing the phone against a wall so can place her hands on her hips and look up at Azzi with a pleased smirk.

Azzi rolls her eyes before glaring at Paige, “you’re a bad influence on her.”

“I’m the best influence on her,” Paige argues, sending Stephie a conspiratorial wink, “just you wait Az, I’mma teach her all the good things.”

Something unreadable flashes across Azzi’s face before she’s back to looking at Paige with an unimpressed arched eyebrow, “I am not letting you corrupt my daughter Paige Bueckers.”

“We’ll see,” Paige says slowly and Azzi shakes her head before turning to Stephie.

“Alright Stephie bean time to go brush your teeth. It’s almost bedtime babes,” she says with a stern look

“But Mama-”

“No arguing, you have school tomorrow missy,” Azzi reminds the little girl and Paige can’t help but marvel at the mother that Azzi’s become. And it makes her heart ache for the fantasies she’d dreamed of when she was in her early twenties. She’d always known Azzi would be a great mother; Paige had just naively thought she’d be there alongside her too.

“Can Miss Buecks stay on the phone till I fall asleep?” Stephie asks, peering up at Azzi with big doe eyes, “please Mama pleeeease.”

“I’m sure Miss Buecks has other things-”

“I don’t,” Paige cuts in far too enthusiastically, clearing her throat to get back some semblance of restraint as both mother and daughter turn to look at each other, “I don’t have anything to do tonight so I can stay till you fall asleep Stephie.”

“YAYY,” Stephie cheers enthusiastically while Azzi studies her with a weary look, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and then you can read me, my story Mama.”

With that, the little girl runs in the direction of what Paige can only assume is the bathroom, skipping with childlike joy as she sing-songs about something Paige can’t quite make out.

“You know you don’t have to say yes to everything she asks right?” Azzi says slowly as she grabs her phone and sits on the couch.

Paige shrugs, “I have time to stay.”

“Do you?” Azzi asks skeptically, “because from what I heard the Wings are having a little farewell party tonight, for you.”

Paige narrows her eyes, “and how exactly did you hear that?”

“I have connections.”

“You talked to Ice.”

“I talked to Ice,” Azzi concedes, “and I’m pretty sure you’re already an hour or so late for it.”

“Exactly. I’m already an hour late so why bother,” Paige says, sitting up so she can rest head against her headboard, “why were you talking to Ice?”

“I can’t talk to my friend?” Azzi asks slowly.

“Of course you can but why specifically today?” Paige presses

Azzi bites her lip, “I um- I watched your press conference today. You uh-” she averts her gaze, “you seemed really stressed at the end and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

A soft grin upturns Paige’s lips before she can stop it, “were you worried for me Fudd?”

“That’s not-” Azzi groans, “shut up.”

Paige smirks, “you were worried for me.”

“I was concerned for my future teammate," Azzi huffs, “besides,” her face hardens, “she was way out of line.”

Paige sighs at the implied mention of Olivia, “maybe but maybe I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi protests and that oh so familiar protective tone in her voice carves itself into every crevice of Paige’s heart, “no one deserves to be put on the spot like that. She was being unethical trying to dig into your personal life like that.”

“This is nice,” Paige says softly, unable to help herself.

“What is?”

“Seeing you get all defensive over me. It's nice to see you still care. I didn’t know if you still did.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second, gnawing at her bottom lip as she looks at Paige, “I’ve always cared Paige. And-” she hesitates as the tightrope beneath them wavers, “I’m always gonna care.”

There’s years worth of unsaid words lingering in the silence between them as they breach some unspoken rule they’d both inadvertently agreed to. And they both know that they shouldn’t be saying things like this to each other, that they’re teetering on the edge of falling into an abyss that has nothing but destruction at the bottom. But Azzi’s words feel like sunshine, like heat waves across her skin and Paige is so tired of feeling cold.

Before either of them can say another word, Stephie comes back into the room, crawling into Azzi’s lap.

“I’m back,” she beams, completely unaware of the way the two adults are scrambling to act normal around her.

“Here baby,” Azzi hands the phone to Stephie, “take Miss Buecks to your room. Mama’s gonna go change and then she’ll come read to you okay?”

“‘Kay Mama,” Stephie complies, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s cheek before running towards her room. For a second Paige’s screen is blurred in motion until Stephie fixes her again and Paige catches a glimpse of Stephie’s room, specifically the walls that are painted the perfect shade of Valkyrie purple.

“I love your walls Stephie,” she compliments.

“They’re pu-ple,” Stephie exclaims, “that’s my favorite color.”

“First the ice-cream, now the color, you’re stealing all of my favorites kid,” Paige teases but she’s secretly pleased by this revelation. It’s dangerous how fast Stephie’s starting to whittle down Paige’s walls and build herself a permanent shelf in Paige’s cabinet of my people.

“Can I tell you a secret Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, bringing her lips closer to the phone.

Paige smiles, “of course you can.”

“I think Mama misses you too,” Stephie says softly and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat, “I heard her tell Nanna on the phone.”

“Can I tell you a secret Stephie?” Paige lowers her voice, leaning into her phone.

“‘Course you can Miss Buecks.”

Paige swallows as the admission falls from her lips, “I really miss your Mama too.”

I miss her always and I think I’ll miss her forever.

“What are you the two of you whispering about,” Azzi’s voice cuts in as she tucks herself next to Stephie, a children’s book in her hand.

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says immediately, winking at Paige through the phone.

“Yeah,” Paige echoes, ignoring her erratic heartbeat, “nothing Azzi.”

Azzi looks between the both of them, clearly aware she’s being left out of something, but doesn’t push further. Instead she flips open the book, pulls Stephie closer into her arms and starts reading. If anyone were to ask Paige later, she wouldn’t have the faintest idea about a single word in that damn book. Because as Azzi’s soothing voice begins to lull Stephie to sleep, and the younger girl, despite her yawns, holds the phone up so the blonde can be included in every second of it, Paige feels herself being pulled into a dream she has no right to dream. She dreams of being in Stephie’s purple bedroom. She dreams of her and Azzi lying against Stephie’s lilac bedspread, their hands entwined in the middle over Stephie’s little body. She dreams of a forever that she’d long forsaken.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 10 months ago

Text

Hated - Ethan Landry - Part 1

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT. - Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: Ethan's hated you for a while, but a little bit of time alone and a heated argument leads to something more.

A/N: There will probably be a part 2, but I'm not sure if I like this.. If you guys have any requests, please send them in. I need ideas!

You loved hanging out with your best friend, Chad. The only downside to the friendship: His roommate hated your fucking guts.

You thought Ethan was cool when you first met him at a party with the “Core Four”, but that changed once you started to spend so much time with Chad. He rolled his eyes whenever you spoke, made comments about the way you dressed at parties, and just seemed to loathe your presence.

One day, you arrived at Chad’s before he made it home from class. Ethan didn’t want to let you in, but it was cold outside, and he wasn’t heartless. You both took a seat on the couch, him on one end, you on the other. After a while of you both scrolling through your phones, you finally decided to speak.

“Why do you hate me?” You asked, not looking up from your phone. You saw his head snap in your direction in your peripheral vision.

“Why wouldn’t I hate you?” He scoffed, and it took everything in you to not slap him.

“You didn’t answer my fucking question,” The irritation in your voice obvious.

“Maybe it’s the way you play dumb all the time whenever you’re studying with Chad. Maybe it’s how you dress like you’re looking for attention whenever we go out. Maybe it’s the way you flirt with anything that fucking walks. Shit, all those things would be a good enough reason to hate you, don’t you think?” His condescending tone was infuriating.

You stood up in front of him, “First off, you make it sound like I’m just out there fucking everybody, which isn’t true. I haven’t had sex since my boyfriend and I broke up before I even came here. Second, even if I was trying to find someone to fuck, that’s none of your business. It’s not my fault that you’re jealous.” Your words set Ethan off.

He jumped up too, inches away from you, “No, what IS your fault is knowing I had a crush on you, making out with me after that party, and then acting like it never fucking happened!”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, as his face twisted in disbelief.

“You don’t remember me taking you back to your dorm because you were too scared to walk alone? You don’t remember inviting me in? You don’t remember moaning my name when I was kissing your neck?” At this point, he was pacing. Seeing him this angry was a turn on, so you decided to press further.

“I was WASTED, Ethan. Plus, I have a hard time believing that you made me moan.” He stopped pacing, staring you down. His eyes were lust-filled, and you could see he was starting to get hard through his sweatpants.

“I guess you don’t remember asking me to fuck you either, huh?” he asked, stepping closer to you.

You smirked, “What if I asked you to fuck me now?”

Within seconds, you were in his room. As soon as he closed the door, you were up against it. His mouth attacked yours as you lightly ran your fingers under his shirt and over his abs.

You both hurried out of your clothes. It’s been a long time since you’ve had sex, and up to this point you thought Ethan was a virgin, but now you aren’t so sure.

Once you were on his bed, he kissed you all down your chest, paying extra attention to your nipples. You were a moaning mess within minutes, and he wasn’t even inside you yet.

He started to kiss further down your body, the anticipation killing you as he inched closer to where you needed him the most. He suddenly stopped, and you shot up to whine in protest.

“Hey, I want to make sure you’re okay with everything I’m doing. If it’s too much or if it’s not enough, tell me. If you want me to stop, tell me. I want you to feel good.” For the first time in months, you’re seeing the Ethan you first met. The kind, sweet, caring Ethan. You almost didn’t know what to say with the complete personality switch.

“This isn’t a hate-fuck thing anymore, is it?” you asked, as he started to blush.

“I kinda pictured my first time to be a little more…intimate, I guess? If you want to stop, I understand,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You were in shock, thinking there’s no way this man exuded this much confidence and had you so turned on, but was still a virgin.

“We can keep going, if that’s okay with you. We can do whatever you feel comfortable with,” you said, before placing your lips on his.

He started to kiss down your body again, spreading your legs to kiss you as far down as he could. He placed a gentle lick to your clit, testing the waters to see if that felt good. His eyes connected with yours, “Keep doing that, baby,” you said, as he continued. It felt good, but you needed a little more.

Before you could say anything, you felt one of his fingers slip inside you. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned, as he found that special spot. He added another finger as his mouth got more aggressive on your clit. You wanted to praise him for doing such a good job, but your brain was turning to mush as you felt your orgasm building.

You felt yourself tightening around his fingers, unable to control the moans coming out of your mouth. Once that wave of ecstasy hit, you were thrown into the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Ethan couldn’t stop staring at this blissful expression on your face, so happy that he was the one to make you feel good.

“I know you’re a virgin, but there’s no way you haven’t done that before,” you said, smirking as your breathing steadied.

“That was the first time,” he whispered, as we heard the front door close.

You mumbled ‘fuck’ under your breath as you scrambled to grab your clothes off the floor, putting them on as quick as possible.

“Roomie, you here?” Chad yelled from the other side of the door. You had a look of panic on your face, terrified that he would open the door.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, as he put his clothes back on.

“This isn’t over yet,” you whispered, nibbling on his ear lobe.

“Promise?” he whispered as you both walked out of the room.

#ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #smut #ethan landry

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whyse7vn · 4 months ago

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CLINGY -

[ kim seokjin min yoongi x reader ]

SEOKJIN -

jin: i’m going to bed now if you even care

resting my body after a long hard day at

work if that’s even important in your eyes

almost died today if you even give a shit

it’s 2 am and i’m JUST going to sleep without you (my girlfriend) messaging me (your boyfriend) goodnight if you even care a little bit

you have 5 missed calls from jin!

jin: be honest do you care?

y/n: no

jin: you didn’t say gn

y/n: it’s 2 am

jin: no u right you don’t even care that’s what’s up

y/n: what

jin: no lol i get it whatever

y/n: what do you want

jin: a goodnight would be nice

y/n: it’s 2 am

jin: yeah???

y/n: am

as in morning

jin: awww who died

here for u 💓

y/n: morning not mourning

jin: can you say gn pls so i can sleep

you have 1 miss call from jin!

y/n: CAN YOU FUCK OFF

jin: CAN YOU SAY GN

y/n: no joke ur 5 seconds away from being blocked

jin: just say you don’t care about me at this point 😭

y/n: i do not care about you at this point

jin: um

y/n: at all

jin: ok well that bit wasn’t necessary

i think i got ur point

y/n: i’m glad

jin: i guess i’ll just go to sleep then

without a goodnight from my lovely girlfriend

sighs

you have 10 miss calls from jin!

y/n: jin

jin: yeah

you can no longer send messages to this contact!

jin: 😧

YOONGI -

yoongi: miss you

delivered 5 minutes ago

yoongi: wow that’s crazy i’ll just jump off a cliff then

y/n: that was kinda dramatic

yoongi: sorry do i know you?

y/n: get a grip

yoongi: reply faster

do you even love me anymore?

y/n: well

yoongi: that’s not funny

y/n: do you see me laughing?

yoongi: take it back

y/n: i take it back

love when ur clingy >.<

yoongi: i’m not clingy

y/n: you just threatened to kill urself cuz i didn’t reply to you instantly

yoongi: that’s basic respect

i message you

you reply within the next second

y/n: that’s unrealistic

yoongi: no it’s not

you do it most of the time

lately you’ve been slacking tho

y/n: excuse me????????

yoongi: ur excused

y/n: and if i slap you?

yoongi: i’ll enjoy it

y/n: YOONGI OMG?/):).£

LMAOOOO

are you dying????

what is wrong with you

ur acting like you love me or something

yoongi: don’t say things like that

makes it seem like i’m a bad boyfriend

y/n: looks left looks right

yoongi: i’m a good boyfriend

y/n: looks at audience looks back at you

yoongi: stop

i am a good boyfriend

y/n: yeah!

yoongi: and if i slap YOU?

y/n: GASP

good boyfriends don’t threaten domestic violence

yoongi: neither do good girlfriends

y/n: are you saying i’m a bad girlfriend?

yoongi: looks left looks right

y/n: how low of you min yoongi…

i am NOT a bad girlfriend

yoongi: ur not a good one either

so where does that leave us

y/n: i’m the best?

yoongi: lol!

y/n: is this ur fucked up way of calling me a good girl

yoongi: ok where tf did you get that from?

ur really bad at reading the room

y/n: i’m in no room

yoongi: it’s a saying 🙄

y/n: ignoring you just rolled ur eyes at me rn

i’m SAYING we should kiss

yoongi: wow so clingy

y/n: what can i say!!!

yoongi: can you acknowledge what i open our conversation with pls

y/n: no

yoongi: ok kys bye

y/n: ur clingy

yoongi: k

now come home

—

idk the jin one was the first draft for the jin part in delivered i think and idk where the yoongi one came from just found her has said hey this is ok ig… thought they kinda gave the same vibe so posted them together better than nothing right? SIGHS sorry idk WHO WANNA BUY ME A NEW PHONE WHO⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️

i’m spiralling and have no storage pls forgive me

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @earth2ela @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @seokmyballs @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @meowgiz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @iammeandmeisiam @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks @futuristicenemychaos @featjunranghae @jksgirlfrl @yeetedandoboi

#bts fluff #bts imagines #bts crack #bts fanfic #bts text #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x reader #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x y/n #yoongi x y/n #jin x reader #jin x y/n #seokjin x reader #seokjin x y/n #whyse7vn

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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 8 days ago

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out of my league | pedri gonzalez [part ii]

🎓 synopsis: Somehow, you managed to make friends in college – well, more like they reached out to you, and now you’re not alone anymore. As your new friendships pull you out of your shell, Pedri seems to be doing the same, but you’re finding it harder than ever to take the next step and let him in. tags: self-doubt, friends-to-maybe-lovers, emotional vulnerability, overthinking. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) | (around 3.6k words)

you can read the first part here, or go to the masterlist.

part 1

"No offense, but when was the last time you took a shower?" Alexia asks, wrinkling her nose a little as she drops her bag onto the library table. You’ve been holed up here for hours, losing track of time, losing track of everything, really. To be fair, you did shower this morning, but looking at your reflection in your laptop screen, you realize you must look like a total disaster. It’s not just the exhaustion that’s etched into your face – it’s the way your hair is doing that weird frizzy thing, and how the stress has drained all the color from your cheeks. You want to sob.

There’s also this thing tonight, when you’re supposed to meet Pedri. A date. Well, not a date – a meeting, you remind yourself, because dates are for people who know what they’re doing. You’ve barely been fulfilling your role as his friend lately, let alone anything more. The thought of facing him in your current state sends a rush of panic through you. But this project... it’s taken over every last corner of your brain, squeezing out even the smallest semblance of self-care.

“You don’t get it, Lexi,” you say, rubbing a hand over your tired eyes, “This project is eating me alive. I can’t think about anything else.”

You feel the tears coming before you can stop them, all the pent-up emotion spilling over as the words catch in your throat. “And I have a meeting with Pedri tonight and I look awful.” Your voice breaks, and now you're full-on crying, fat tears streaming down your face. Alexia laughs, but it’s gentle, as she wipes at your tears with the sleeve of her sweater, the fabric smudging across your cheeks.

“A meeting? Is that what you two are calling it now?” she teases.

“Please don't make fun of me right now,” you hiccup, “I’m seriously having a breakdown.”

“You’re not having a breakdown, okay? You’re just tired, probably hungry, and, yeah, you look like a mess, that’s all!” Alexia says, giving you a warm, reassuring smile.

"Do you think I should cancel with him?" you ask between sobs.

"I don't know, baby. What do you want?"

You think about it, really think. All you want right now is a long, hot bath, a warm plate of food, and to binge some mindless Netflix series. The idea of pretending to be put-together tonight feels like more than you can handle.

“Yeah, I think I need some time off tonight,” you say slowly. You look at Alexia, suddenly struck by how composed she looks. Even though you’re in the same class, dealing with the same workload, she always seems to keep her cool. Meanwhile, you’re pretty sure the rest of your study group is scattered across campus in various states of meltdown, just like you. “How come you don’t look like shit, huh?”

“I think it’s because I just don’t care,” she says with a shrug. “It’s just college, you know? I’m not going to let this kill me.”

“You’re crazy,” you mutter, pointing your pen at her face. “But thank you… I guess, for telling me I need a break.”

“Anytime,” she says, beaming at you. “I got you!”

You take a shaky breath and start cleaning your nose with a tissue, already feeling better.

part 2

You stumble into your dorm room, dropping your bag on the floor and collapsing face-first onto your bed. After a few moments, you roll over, sighing as you pull out your phone. You know you have to cancel tonight, but the thought of disappointing Pedri makes your chest feel heavy.

You type out a quick message before you can second-guess yourself:

You:

Hey...

I know we were supposed to meet tonight, but I’m honestly so drained.

I think I just need to stay in and rest.

You hit send and toss your phone aside, staring at the ceiling, feeling guilty and relieved all at once. You almost jump when your phone buzzes a second later.

Pedri:

I get it, don’t worry about it!

Are you okay?

You hesitate before replying.

You:

Yeah, just really overwhelmed.

It’s been a week, you know?

There’s a long pause before his response comes through, and you wonder if he’s upset. But when you pick up your phone, you see his message:

Pedri:

Can I do anything to help? Bring you food or something?

I don’t have to stay if you don’t want, just wanna make sure you’re alright.

His offer feels genuine and, weirdly, like a weight lifting off your shoulders. You think about it for a second and realize that, despite everything, you don’t want to be completely alone tonight.

You:

Takeout sounds nice.

I was thinking about just eating junk food and watching movies.

Nothing fancy.

Pedri:

I can pick up your favorite and come over?

Promise I won’t be trouble.

I’ll just hang out and keep you company if you want.

Or I can go after dropping off the food.

Whatever you need.

There’s something so comforting in his willingness to let you set the tone. You don’t feel pressured, just… cared for.

You:

Okay.

That sounds good.

Pedri:

Deal.

I’ll be there in 30.

You:

Thanks, Pedri. Really.

You’ve got some time before Pedri gets here, and you decide to make the most of it. It’s Friday night, your roommate’s out, and for once, you have the room to yourself. You push yourself off the bed and head to the bathroom, there’s no time for a full transformation, but you want to feel a little more put-together.

Back in your room, you search for your comfiest pajamas, cute enough that you don’t feel completely bedraggled. You slip them on, pairing them with some fuzzy socks.

You survey the room; it’s not a complete mess, but it’s far from inviting. Your bed, unmade and a little dull, catches your eye. You grab your favorite blanket and spread it over the bed. The cozy texture instantly brightens the space. Next, you light the lavender-scented candle your mom sent you last semester.

The laptop goes on the end of the bed, positioned so that two people can comfortably watch a movie together. You prop up a couple of pillows, creating a small nest that you hope will make you feel more at ease when Pedri gets here. You settle on the bed, drawing the blanket over your lap as you scroll mindlessly through your streaming service’s list of comfort movies.

A few minutes later you hear a soft knock on your door and you’re already halfway to the door before you even realize you’ve moved. You pause for a second, taking one last steadying breath, before you open it.

Pedri is standing there, a takeout bag in one hand and a warm smile on his face. He's dressed down, just a hoodie and sweats, and something about the way he looks makes the weight in your chest ease a little. "Hi," he says softly, eyes scanning your face with curiosity.

"Hi," you reply, a little embarrassed by how relieved you are to see him. You step back, letting him in, and he walks past you into the room, setting the takeout down on your desk.

"I brought Thai," he says, holding up the bag with a small grin. "Figured you could use something comforting. I got that spicy noodle dish you like, and a few other things in case you’re not up for it."

You smile, genuinely this time, the warmth spreading through you as you shut the door behind him. “Thanks. That sounds perfect.”

Pedri looks around the room, noticing the little effort you put into making it feel cozy, and his smile softens. "You did all this for me?" he teases gently, nodding toward the candles and the freshly arranged bed.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small laugh that escapes. "I did it for me, actually. But... I guess you can enjoy it too."

He kicks off his sneakers and sinks onto the bed, pulling out the takeout containers while you sit beside him, feeling the tension in your shoulders start to ease. He’s careful not to invade your space, giving you a little room to breathe, even though you can tell he’s itching to comfort you more.

"So," he says, settling back against the pillows, "what’s the movie for tonight? I’m good with whatever. Just don’t make me cry, okay?"

It’s silly, you know – you two have spent hours talking about your favorite movies, music, and everything in between. Still, there's a part of you that worries about whether he’ll like what you like, whether you’re cool enough in his eyes. Letting him see more of who you are makes you feel oddly exposed. “Actually... my comfort movie is The Terminator, but we can watch something else if you want,” you mumble, trying to sound casual.

Pedri’s eyebrows lift, genuinely surprised. “Terminator? I’ve never seen it.”

Your jaw drops. “What?? Have you been living under a rock?” you exclaim, forgetting your nervousness in the heat of the moment. He laughs, his eyes lighting up, clearly enjoying your reaction.

"Nope, just never got around to it, I guess. I mean, I know it's a classic, but... never seen it," he says, still grinning at your shock.

“Well, we have to watch it now,” you say, more certain than you’ve been all night. "It’s not negotiable."

“Alright, alright,” he agrees easily, shifting to get more comfortable against the pillows. “I trust your judgment.”

There’s a moment, just before you press play, where you’re hyper-aware of how close he is. It’s strange because you’ve never been alone together like this in your room – just the two of you, no distractions, no other friends around to keep things light. You’re both taking things slow, or maybe you’re not taking them anywhere at all. You’ve never really talked about what this is. You just hang out. Sometimes you kiss, sometimes you don’t, but you never ask what it means. Right now, you don’t have a clue where you stand with him or if this is going somewhere.

You press play. Pedri leans back, focused on the screen, and you steal a glance at him, trying to gauge his reaction. But he’s not making fun of you; he’s not rolling his eyes or pretending to be interested. He’s just... watching. And somehow, that feels like a win.

Halfway through the movie, you’re both more relaxed. Pedri’s arm is draped casually over the back of the bed, and you’re leaning just a bit closer to him. The takeout is mostly gone, the containers pushed to the side, and he’s actually into the movie – asking you little questions about the plot and why it’s your favorite.

He gives you a soft kiss on the temple, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He doesn’t even look at you when he does it; it's absent-minded, like he’s barely aware of it. But you feel it intensely. Your heart kicks up, and suddenly, the movie’s just background noise – your mind is spinning. You feel the space between you both close in, shrinking to nothing.

You’re not a virgin, but you might as well be. Your experience was limited – just a couple of times with your first and last boyfriend, back in high school.

With Pedri, things have always felt... safe. But that simple, soft peck on your temple makes you acutely aware that you just invited a boy into your room, alone, on a Friday night.

Is that why he’s been hanging around for so long?

You hear Melanie’s voice in your head, mocking you, saying he’d get bored in a month and go crawling back to her. Before you even realize what you’re doing, you shift away from him, putting space between you two. Your heart pounds as you look at him, waiting for a reaction, and he turns to you, eyes widening with instant understanding. He knows. Just by the way you’ve moved, he knows exactly what’s going through your mind.

“Oh –” Pedri’s face goes pale, his voice panicked. “I didn’t mean... I wasn’t thinking, I swear!” He sounds as terrified as you feel.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he rushes to say, his words stumbling over each other. “I’m sorry, I –” He stops, takes a breath, and tries again, his tone softer, more careful. “I really didn’t mean anything by it. I wasn’t trying to –”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, your voice shaky. But it's not fine, not really. You're suddenly too aware of your bare legs under the blanket, of the dim lighting, of how you’ve made your room just a little bit cozier, a little more inviting than usual.

Pedri watches you closely, his expression open, almost pleading. “I’m not here for that, okay? I mean it. I just wanted to hang out, like we always do. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

His eyes are sincere, his voice steady now, and you realize he’s waiting for you to make the call, to decide what happens next. He’s not pressuring you, not pushing. He’s giving you a lifeline, a way back to whatever this was before you started overthinking.

“Okay,” you say, nodding.

“Do you want me to go?” he asks quietly, and you hate how sad he sounds.

“Yes,” you say, your voice breaking a little. “I’m so sorry. It’s not you, it’s…” You trail off. It’s you. You’re the one who felt your body light up when his lips brushed your temple, the one whose thoughts went straight to sex. Your face burns, a blush spreading hot and fast, making you feel like you’re stumbling back into the awkwardness of puberty. A simple peck, and suddenly you’re overwhelmed, spiraling.

Pedri, who’s always been so good at reading you, catches it all. His eyes widen even more, and you almost laugh at how surprised he looks. But this isn't funny to you. You don’t want him to see you like this, so, so... well, horny. “It’s me, okay? And I...” You struggle to find the right words, your heart racing. “Can you just... can you leave?”

His eyes stay fixed on you, lost somewhere between fascination and panic. You can see it – how he's immersed in the way your face is flushed, in the way you're struggling to catch your breath. He's seeing you in a way he never has before, and part of him likes it – likes that you want him this much, likes that he has this effect on you. But the other half of him is scared, almost as much as you are.

“Um... yes,” he says. He’s nodding, almost on autopilot, his eyes never leaving your face. It’s like he’s drinking in every detail, storing this moment away – the vulnerability in your expression, the way your eyes struggle to meet his. You see the flicker of conflict in his eyes, and it’s not just because he doesn’t want to leave. It’s because seeing you like this makes him want to give you everything, to do whatever you want, forever.

But he knows what you’re asking, and he’s not going to push.

“Yeah, I’ll leave,” he repeats, his words slow and careful like he’s reassuring himself as much as he’s reassuring you.

He stands there for a second longer, just looking at you, his thoughts a mess of confusion and desire. There’s a moment you think he’s going to stay – going to ignore what you asked and sit back down beside you.

But he doesn’t. He turns, slowly, his eyes lingering on you until the very last moment, afraid to look away. He takes a breath, nodding to himself like he’s coming to a decision, and then he opens the door.

“Okay,” he says one last time, and there’s a small, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “Goodnight.” His voice is so gentle, and the sound of it almost makes you want to cry.

He steps out, closing the door behind him with a soft click, and you’re left alone. You just sit there, staring at the door.

part 3

Ana is telling you and Alexia about her latest rendezvous, this boy from computer science who rocked her world Friday night. It's Monday, and you're just staring at a wall as she talks, wanting to disappear. She’s being quite graphic, and when she notices your reaction, she stops mid-sentence and gives you a weird look.

“You're being weird,” she points out. “Wait. Am I being weird? Is it weird for me to say things like that?”

You shake your head, shifting your gaze to the ceiling instead, feeling the familiar creep of anxiety settling in.

“No. No. I'm weird, you were right the first time.”

“We all know that everyone at this table is weird,” Alexia chimes in. You're at the café you like so much – the one where you first met Pedri. You brought your friends here once, and now it’s become the go-to hangout spot for your group, which is nice... but you kind of miss coming here alone. It used to be your sad, quiet space, where you could brood without anyone pointing it out. Now, you have to deal with their curious stares and concerned comments.

“But now you're both being weirder than usual,” Alexia says, turning back to Ana. “Seriously, Ana, you had sex with Carlos? The guy with the Twitter account for his birds? And you...” She points at you. “What's up with you?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, waving a hand vaguely. “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh,” Alexia says, clearly not buying it, and Ana just raises her eyebrows like she’s waiting for the real answer to come out. They’re both staring at you now, and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

“Seriously, I’m just... tired,” you say, but the way Alexia’s lips twist into a knowing smile tells you that she’s already seen right through you.

“Tired,” she repeats, in that sarcastic tone that makes you feel about three inches tall.

“You’re always tired,” Ana adds. “But this is a new level of tired. Like, existential crisis tired.” She’s still sipping her iced coffee as if she’s discussing the weather, which makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

You take a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together, but all you can think about is Pedri’s face when he left your room – the way he looked at you like he was trying to memorize every inch of your expression. It’s been looping in your mind ever since, making it hard to focus on anything else.

“I don’t know,” you admit finally, “I just... had a weird weekend.”

Ana narrows her eyes, leaning in conspiratorially. “Weird how?” she asks. “Like my Friday night weird or... your kind of weird?”

Your face flushes at the mention of her Friday night, but you just shake your head again. “No, not like that,” you say, feeling the heat creep up your neck. “Just... complicated.”

There’s a long, loaded silence before Alexia’s face softens, like she’s pieced something together in her head. “Oh,” she says quietly. “Is this about him?”

You don’t say anything, but your silence must give you away because Ana’s face lights up in recognition. “Oh my God,” she says, practically bouncing in her seat. “Did something happen with Pedri?”

“No!” you say, maybe a little too quickly, but they’re already grinning like they know all your secrets.

“Something definitely happened,” Alexia says, giving you a playful nudge. “Spill. Now.”

You sigh, realizing you’re not getting out of this, and you tell them – about the movie, about how everything had felt fine until it suddenly wasn’t, about how Pedri had left with that sad, confused look on his face. You don’t tell them how much it’s been bothering you, though. How you keep replaying the way he said “Goodnight” in your head like it means more than it should.

Ana and Alexia listen in silence, for once not interrupting with their usual commentary, and when you’re done, there’s a heavy pause.

“So...” Ana says slowly, “you freaked out because he kissed you? That’s it?”

You wince, feeling the words hit a little too close to home. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “I freaked out.”

“Well, what did you expect?” Alexia asks, not unkindly. “He likes you, you like him, and you invited him over. What did you think was going to happen?”

“I don’t know!” you say, feeling defensive. “I just – he’s Pedri. And I’m... me. It’s complicated, okay?”

“Everything’s complicated with you,” Ana says, rolling her eyes but smiling at the same time. “You know what I think? I think you need to stop overthinking and just go for it. If you want him, go get him. If you don’t, then stop torturing yourself about it.”

“It’s not that simple,” you say, but even as you do, you can feel a tiny part of you wanting to believe that maybe it could be.

“Well, it should be,” Alexia says, giving you a knowing look. “I’m just saying – life’s too short to sit around being sad in a café about a guy who clearly cares about you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words get stuck in your throat. Maybe they’re right. Maybe you’ve been making this all harder than it needs to be. But that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.

“Just... think about it,” Ana says, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. “And don’t do that thing where you talk yourself out of being happy, okay?”

➜ Next Part

#football fanfic #pedri #football fic #pedri x reader #pedri x you #pedri imagine #brightlightwrites #pedri gonzalez #pedri gonzalez x reader

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dragonridernoobie · 8 months ago

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Inspiration has struck again! Okay so, ya know Clementine from the walking dead game?(if you haven’t played it I highly recommend it, make sure you start at season 1) okay so I’m specifically looking for a season 2 Clementine with a mix of season 4, okay so reader is badass, protective, dangerous(oooooo), and grew up in another universe separate from the bots and kids where a zombie apocalypse has occurred! She tries her best to protect the kids while she’s stuck in their world, looking for this other kid she’s was taking care of as well, and I kinda wanna see how she would react to first meeting the bots? I think she’d try and shoot them or attack them if they were in their holoforms, if it was Raf she’d probably try to protect him as she seems to have a soft spot for younger kids and he reminds her of the kid she was protecting- and I’m rambling:,) sorry! Anyways, this request is for Optimus, Ratchet, Bumblebee, and Wheeljack! If you don’t know much about Clementine look up some videos of her! She is awesome and I love her! Oh and she has no hesitation to kill.

(Just a warning I may request something similar to this in the future:,) I have a problem😔)

Thank you! *virtual Head pats*(if okay ofc)

P.S. Feel free to take any creative ideas you have that would fit to the personality I described and add it, I really just enjoy seeing what you come up with

Okay, so first thing fist, I don't know shit about the walking dead. Like, I was never into that stuff because i wasn't interested in it. (I was more into transformers, undertale, and tmnt at the time). But I will try my best, so thank you from the bottom of my heart that you tell me her personality. (I suck at reasurch), but I will try my best. Hope you enjoy it.

Transformers X Zombie Survival Reader

Optimus

When optimus met (Y/N) it was by accident.

Optimus was trying to stop the decepticons from getting a new artifact but when it activated, it and the next thing he sees is a human, in torn up clothes, has a few weapons, including the crossbow they where holding

The human looks between optimus and the decepticons.

After a silent moment, the human quickly throws some things on the ground and soon sparks start to fly.

It blinds them and the human takes their chance to run.

When optimus saw this, he ran after them.

Soo. He found them and told them he ment no harm and he needed to get them out of here.

Let's say (Y/N) dident trust him and yelled at him. Saying that they won't be tricked by a zombie cybertronian!

He was very confused but explained he was not a zombie.

Once he gained their trust, he brought them to the base.

They immediately took responsibility to protect the kids.

They also explained to the team about their world.

They felt terrible for them and told them that they welcomed to stay.

They told them they would rather return to their world since their jack, miko, and Ralphal are still alive and needed their help.

The team then decided to help them home.

Ratchet

When ratchet met (Y/N) it was by accident.

He was alone at base, fixing the land bridge.

When suddenly it malfunctions and causes a explosion.

When the smoke cleared, he is met face to face with a human.

This human was in army clothes, had weapons on their back, and they where holding a crossbow.

After a silent moment of looking at eachother, the human says his name in a whisper.

He told them how they got here.

(Y/N) explained that they where from a diffrent universe where planet earth has become a waste land and there is zombies.

They cried and huge ratchet.

Since ratchet was dead in their universe.

Poor ratchet dude, he had to explain to the team how a new human has been brought to the base

And that it was his fault.

(Y/N) took their role as the kids portecter.

When ratchrt offer to send them back, (Y/N) told them that there was no point of returning home.

Earth of her universe was dead. The autobots are no more, the kids are dead, and the decepticons are all zombies.

They welcome (Y/N) with open arms.

Wheeljack

Wheeljack was flying in his ship when he came across a black hole.

He accidentally got to close and was sucked in.

He found himself in another world.

It was earth but not.

That's when he met (Y/N).

He tried to go into a military base to steal something but came across (Y/N) who attacked him, thinking that he was a zombie.

When wheeljack explained that he wasent a zombie, he took this chance to look over (Y/N).

That's when he noticed how they where dressed.

Crossbow, guns, army clothes, coverd in dirt.

He asked what happened and (Y/N) explained that the decepticons realized a new weapon.

It caused everything alive, including cybertronians, to become zombies.

They where currently the only human alive that (Y/N) believes.

She helps wheeljack to fix his ship, in return he brings her to his world since there's nothing left for them here

He agrees.

After they return to his world, he interduce them to the autobot teams

Wheeljack has a new space traveling buddy.

Bumblebee

Bumblebee met (Y/N) when he was fighting Soundwave.

Soundwave opened 2 portals next to Bumblebee and sent him to another dimension.

That's when he met himself but as a zombie.

Bumblebee ran for his life, fighting for his life and soon found some shelter.

That's when he met (Y/N)

He beeped at them, trying to tell them he wasent a zombie.

Thankfully (Y/N) understood him.

They explained what happened and that the kids, autobots, decepticons, and life on earth are all gone.

Bumblebee felt bad, but offered to bring them back to his world.

(Y/N) was super happy and agreed.

They took him to the now abandoned autobot base and showed them the still intact ground bridge.

When he activated it, he wen thru with (Y/N).

The team was so happy to see him again and welcomed (Y/N) with open arms.

The kids loved (Y/N) and (Y/N) was so happy to see the kids again.

(Y/N) told optimus that they where so happy to see him again.

Since in their world, optimus went missing.

He told them that he is happy that he has a new friend and teammate.

#headcanon #transformers tfp #transformers #tfp bumblebee #tfp wheeljack #tfp ratchet #tfp optimus prime #optimus x reader #wheeljack x reader #ratchet x reader

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ageless-aislynn · 2 months ago

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Title: “15 Minutes” (11/15) Author: @ageless-aislynn Characters/fandom: Master Chief John-117/Reader, Halo the series Summary: John has learned something new that he'd like to show you… Series: How to date a Spartan (without even trying) Rating: T (PG13) Length: 2,630 (this chapter, 27,487 total so far) Spoilers: Set in the Silver Timeline of Halo the series, not the games or novels. Though we began with the events of Halo 1x06, there will be no more show spoilers. We are still firmly seated in the AU Warthog, merrily driving out to places where there’s only a passing nod to canon. 😉 Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! 😉 A/N: Text is both here in this post or available at AO3, however you like to read. It's, yet again, been awhile since the last update, sad to say. I've been slogging through writer's block, health issues and some kinda awful real life stress but I'm not giving up on this fic (or its sibling, "Recreation"). I'd like to say that the final chapters will be here very soon but, well… I've learned to not call my shots, lol. I will, however, do my best to get them here as soon as I can. If you read, I hope you enjoy! ⭐💖⭐

Taglist: @pinheadbanger @mysardencut @laurenstacy610 @sporadicbelievernightmare @ultrablackwidower @bxmxtx @jellotherelol @mirandastuckinthe80s

If you would like to be tagged in my John/Reader fics, just let me know! I also write John/Kai, John/Cortana and Kai/male Reader, so I’m glad to tag you for whatever you’d like. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, also feel free to let me know, no harm, no foul. 😉 💖

Halo fic masterlist ⭐

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10

PT arrived bright and early and, while you continued to bring out every expletive in every language you knew, ultimately it seemed your left side was improving: more range of motion in your shoulder and more strength in your leg, though the healing fractures still ached. All together, though, it was a win, no matter that it left you sweating and shaking like you'd wrestled an Elite and lost spectacularly.

You'd just come out of the shower and put on a fresh set of clothes when the door chimed. To your surprise, you found Riz and Vannak in their civvies standing there. You knew Silver Team had been on stand-by for the past few days – John hadn't been able to join you for every meal, understandably, but he had been there every night. Sleeping curled up in his arms was a luxury you weren't sure how you were going to give up when the time came. Kai and her friend had visited but this was the first time the other two Spartans had.

"Please, come in," you said and they did.

"You need new curse words," Riz said seriously.

"We got here while you were doing your therapy," Vannak explained. "Didn't want to interrupt."

"You could hear me cussing out in the hall?" you asked.

"Superior Spartan hearing," she said, matter-of-fact. "I doubt anyone else could."

"Teach her the one," he urged in as animated a tone as you'd ever heard from him before. "You know, the good one."

Which is how you ended up getting a tongue-twisting word in Sangheili added to your arsenal.

"You say that to any Covenant species and it's guaranteed to send them into a rage," Riz said with a confident nod.

"Except the Unggoy," Vannak added with a sneer. "Little bastards couldn't give a shit. They'll try to kill you on principle."

"I'll make sure I'm on a bullhorn from far away, then," you said, biting the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. "Don't want to be in striking distance if I'm going to send them into a rage."

They thought that over.

"Chief won't appreciate us telling her to pick a fight with a Sangheili," she pointed out.

"Just use it on somebody you're pretty sure you can take in a fight," he told you.

"I'll keep that in mind," you said.

They made slightly stilted small talk for about 15 more minutes, then took their leave.

A rest seemed in order, so you propped up on the bed and checked the news. They were in the middle of reporting that they had yet to apprehend the man who had tried to smuggle the bomb back to FLEETCOM in the Warthog. It showed some stock images of the Pit before being damaged by the explosion and that got you to thinking…

There should be some sort of footage of the explosion, right?

But, after poking around on your padd for a little while, you hadn't found much beyond what apparently had been approved for public viewing.

"Would you like some help with that?"

Cortana's voice startled you.

"Oh, hey there," you said, thinking, Poor thing, she's got the most boring job in the world keeping an eye on me. I hope I get the chance to buy her a coffee or something after all is said and done. Then your brain tardily caught up with her words. "You mean you have footage from the explosion?"

"Yes, I do."

"And it's something I have clearance to see?"

"I have footage from the explosion," she repeated, her tone supremely innocent.

Before you could decide whether to ask to see it or not, the holo on the wall lit up. The security cams had caught the explosion from multiple angles. You winced as you saw a body – your body – fly out of the crane operator seat to disappear into a sea of smoke and debris.

A moment later, the view changed, the quality severely degrading. You squinted through the pixilation and haze and realized you were seeing from the point of view of the holo-emiter Cortana had contacted you from.

"Oh, shit," you muttered. The massive beam that had pinned you down should've killed you outright but you'd gotten supremely lucky in the way the rest of the building had fallen, providing just enough support to give you a tiny open space. But even without the sudden, helpful overlay that detailed out the edges of the debris through the smoke, you could see how quickly that respite was vanishing as the beam's weight bore it inexorably lower and lower.

You found yourself gasping for breath, cast back into that moment. The image changed abruptly. Trying to figure out where you were now viewing from helped to break you free of the encroaching panic attack.

Then it all made sense: you were looking at several officers, so covered in dirt and dust that you couldn't recognize their rank, much less determine their names. They also looked extremely short.

Before you even skimmed over the information feeding out in rapid-fire bursts, you knew that this was John's HUD after Silver Team had arrived back on site.

"John, get here now. The support beam is failing!"

Cortana's voice came through his helmet's comm. "There's no time," he said, interrupting the man as he was saying that they would have to wait for an excavation crew to arrive to safely dig you out.

He was running before the man could object. The feed cut back and forth from his HUD to the holo-emiter. This gave you an unexpected perspective on how efficiently Silver Team worked. They needed almost no words as they homed in on your location, grabbing, lifting, moving and supporting each part of the perilous structure as needed.

It was Vannak who caught the beam before it crushed you but it was John who lifted it off of you.

The holo-emiter's feed abruptly ended and you were back in John's HUD. Vannak and Kai caught another part of the crumbling wreckage, creating an opening for Riz to dig you out by hand.

You noted almost absently how steady John's vitals were. He was holding a building off of you as if it were nothing at all.

"Out," Riz announced and John carefully lowered the weight he'd been supporting.

When he turned, you saw Riz clearing the way for Kai, who was now the one carrying you. Vannak and John followed.

They emerged out of the wreckage and Kai went into the Spartan run, taking you directly into a Pelican where she turned you over to a team of medics. The Spartans were waved back and the ship launched.

"We'll catch the next one," Riz said.

"She'll be all right, Chief," Kai told him. "She's strong."

He nodded curtly, tracking the Pelican that was carrying you away.

And once it went out of sight, that was when his vitals spiked and his heart began to pound.

You were still thinking about what all you'd seen when the door chimed again. A glance at the chrono proved it was lunchtime. You opened the door and, indeed, the first thing you saw was a massive, covered tray that no doubt contained your meal. But it was John who was carrying it.

"Silver's on stand-by," he warned, "but I thought we might get a chance to eat together."

Since you weren't yet cleared to make the long walk down to the Mess, a table and pair of chairs had been set up across from the couch a few days ago. As soon as he'd placed the tray down, you practically tackled him.

"Permission to hug the Master Chief?" you asked well after the fact, your voice muffled into his chest.

He gently returned the embrace. "Always granted."

You found yourself holding onto him a little bit longer than usual.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I saw the footage from the Pit," you said, resting your cheek against him. "I already knew I was lucky to get out of there but really seeing it? I… It makes me appreciate being here."

He paused for long enough that you looked up at him, finding him gazing over your head as if hearing something over a comm. Then he turned his attention back down to you, brow furrowing. "She shouldn't have shown you that footage and upset you."

"Cortana? No, I'm glad she did. It happened to me, after all." You put your face against him again and squeezed him once more around his waist. "You held a building off of me, John."

He made a move as if about to pick you up, then thought better of it and knelt instead to bring you more on a level together. "I'd hold a million buildings off of you, don't you know that?" he said, cupping your face. "Just… try not to be under any more falling buildings, hm?"

"I'll certainly do my best," you swore and kissed his palm.

The look in his eyes altered, grew both darker and softer at the same time. When you leaned towards him, he met you halfway.

He started carefully, like he did everything with you, but soon the kiss intensified, deepened, and his hands skimmed from the crown of your head down your back as if he wanted to map every line, curve and angle you possessed.

And then your stomach growled, loudly and unmistakably, and you muttered your newly-learned curse word.

He leaned back to look at you, amusement tugging insistently at his mouth. "That one's Vannak's favorite. He and Riz talked about coming to see you today. I'm assuming they did?"

"They did," you said, then winced as your stomach grumbled something awfully close to a repeat of the Sangheili curse word.

"Why don't we eat," he said, completely surrendering to the smile, "and you can tell me all about it."

Happily, he didn't get called away and you were able to finish your meal together in peace.

"Could I show you something I recently learned?" he asked as you stood from the table.

"As long as it doesn't involve throwing me around the room," you teased.

"Oh, I'll save that until you're all healed up," he murmured, then winked.

You'd like to think you laughed but no, that was a full-fledged giggle. "So, what did you learn?"

"Therapeutic massage," he said, flexing his fingers. "It's supposed to promote healing and relaxation. Want to give it a try?"

"Absolutely," you said. "Where do you want me at?"

"On the footstool, if that's okay?"

"Sure."

The wide, plush, rainbow-colored bit of furniture was another recent addition to the room, added because John wanted you to have the option to put your feet up. Kai had told you that, as soon as you were healthy again, she was going to high-five you for the color choice.

While his back was turned as he adjusted the stool the way he wanted it in front of the couch, you took your shirt off and tossed it haphazardly towards the bed.

He sat, a leg on either side of the stool, and looked up at you, clearly about to say something. But then his expression went thunderstruck and the words never emerged.

You had the same UNSC sports bra that he had to have seen other marines wearing in the gym a thousand times. You'd spotted Kai and Riz in them before, so it shouldn't have been that shocking.

"This all right?" you asked.

"Uh-huh. Yeah. Yes." Every affirmative had its own completely separate inflection, from stunned to wonderment to Wait, don't put the shirt back on.

You turned away, hiding your grin as you sat down where directed. Considering that you were hardly in top fighting form at the moment, his reaction was a very nice little ego boost.

His hands settled gently against your back, fingers curling over your shoulders. "If I use too much pressure or there's pain, tell me right away. Is there anything I should definitely avoid?"

"Can't raise the arm like I should" –you gave a roll of your left shoulder– "but it's already much better than it was."

"Copy that, no raising the arm. Anything else?"

No matter how battered and bruised you felt, there was no way you were going to miss this. "I'll let you know," you promised.

"Okay," he said and his hands glided up to your neck, then out, following the lines of the trapezius on both sides. The heels of his palms followed your spine down in a feathery touch, then spread out along your lats like he was smoothing wrinkles out of them before skimming down your obliques to your hips.

He returned to your shoulders again and very, very carefully kneaded into the tightness there. You did your best not to flinch when he hit a particularly sore spot but he jerked back as if you'd screamed.

"It's fine," you said quickly, afraid he was about to end up perched on the back of the couch like a very large, traumatized cat. "This is the only way to get rid of it. Just got to work it out."

His hands settled cautiously on your shoulders once more.

"You're doing great," you assured him, patting his knees on either side of you encouragingly, and his thumbs drew circles over the painful places as if he were trying not to fracture a thin sheet of glass.

The knots relaxed and you exhaled in the closest thing to sheer bliss you'd experienced in a long while. The warmth and gentle pressure had you melting back into him, your head lolling a bit, your eyelids fluttering shut and—

The next thing you knew, you were waking up. "Oh come on, I didn't want to sleep through all the good parts," you mumbled.

John's chuckle rumbled beneath your ear. He had pulled you back onto his lap on your right side, cradled comfortably against his chest. One hand was gently rubbing your back while the other covered the hand you had fisted into his shirt.

"I'm going to take this as a compliment to my therapeutic massage skills," he said.

"And you absolutely should." You raised your head to look at him. "Maybe next time I can even stay conscious long enough to really appreciate said skills. If there is, you know, a next time."

"There will most definitely be a next time," he swore and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I still owe you a proper back scratching."

"And I am absolutely going to collect on that," he returned, his tone unexpectedly husky.

You smiled, straightening up to kiss him. He pulled you closer, then paused and sighed against your mouth.

"I've got to go," he said resolutely right before his wristband chirped.

You looked for a way to roll off of him that wouldn't aggravate your shoulder – or potentially crush any of his, ahem, important Spartan equipment – but he scooped you up bridal style and stood as if you weighed nothing at all.

"I'll meet you for dinner if we're back soon enough," he promised and gave you one more tender kiss then placed you onto the couch. Before he went through the door, he paused, looking back like he was memorizing this moment, then he took a breath and was gone.

It was nearly dinner time when the door chime rang and you went to answer it with as much of a hopeful spring in your step as you could manage. However, this time, it wasn't John holding a tray with your evening meal on it.

"Dr. Keyes," you said in surprise, snapping a salute.

She said your rank and last name. "May I come in? We need to talk."

#halo #halo the series #halo paramount+#master chief x reader #x reader #john-117 x reader #aislynn's fics #aislynn's fic #ageless aislynn #fic: 15 minutes #series: how to date a spartan without even trying

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 8 months ago

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15 Lines Tag Game

tagged by: @carlosoliveiraa @clicheantagonist @inafieldofdaisies @adelaidedrubman @la-grosse-patate @g0dspeeed @direwombat @aceghosts @sofrosine @nightbloodbix @kyber-infinitygems @corvosattano @voidika @roofgeese @thesingularityseries (thank you all so much!!)

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture their character/personality/vibe. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well.

(i failed to follow the rules and did 17 each, i'm indecisive)

tagging: @dickytwister @amalkavian @transcaster @shellibisshe @unholymilf @thedeadthree @confidentandgood @strafethesesinners @harmonyowl @florbelles @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @cassietrn @marivenah @finding-comfort-in-rain @strangefable @efingart (no pressure of course, I'm late to this, sorry for any double tags)

“When you've seen the things I've seen, a little pig sticker cutting through a few layers of flesh doesn't mean much.”

“Blood on my hands or not, I don’t need to be saved. Not by you or anyone else.”

“I’ll bite you if you try and feed me.”

"Then let me do what I do best. I don't need the help, all they'll do is slow me down, make me take my eyes off the ball. You gotta let me win this fight the only way I know how."

"I'm not so delicate."

“Because I prefer to look into the eyes of the person I'm meaning to kill. Makes it more personal. I want them to remember the face of the person sending them to their maker.”

“I put my fucking neck out there every day for all of you – I have been from the start. Who else is having these crazy motherfuckers digging around in their head? Do you have Joseph Seed telling you you’re some fucking sign of the Apocalypse? No.”

"If I don't keep my promise it will be just another regret in a long line of them. My life started with regret – should've been a boy, never should've been born at all – my life will likely end with regrets too."

“Just a weapon. A square peg jammed into a round hole for so many years that my edges finally ground down, and now I fit only one thing."

"I might not have the scars on the outside of what my father did to me, but I think the ones I do have are the big scarlet letter about the kind of monster he turned me into."

“It’s a sad state of affairs when I'm someone people are happy to see after any absence.”

“Well shit, if you’re damaged goods then I must be fucking ruined.”

“I did what I had to do. Just following orders.”

“Some people just aren’t meant to be saved,” Kit muttered.

She smiled, an empty grin that creeped across her face but left her eyes cold and dead. “Trust me, Jacob should be the least of your worries.”

“You know that old saying that God never gives you more than you can handle?" She scoffed, hands held at her hips, posed like a superhero. The demigod she had become. "He must have had quite the plan for me.”

“I’ve made my mistakes. I hurt people. Innocent people . I can’t have you on my conscience too.”

1) “I don’t give up on anything, but I refuse to be a distraction."

2) “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

3) “Oh, don't worry, sir. I only save the bleeding heart act for the innocent.”

4) “He’s a charming fellow.” The venom in Rory’s voice wasn’t lost on anyone.

5)“Just have to use my feminine wiles and sweet talk the prick, yeah?"

6) “I’m not particularly fond of having to be like that. I do what I have to. Intimidation, fear – they’re good weapons. But I’m not some sadist, I don’t enjoy it.”

7) “That's just life though, isn't it? It's the fucking pits, and then we die, and that's that. No point letting it ruin what bit of good there is.”

8) “I know. It was him or me.”

9) Laughing, she picked up her cigarette from the sand and took a drag. “I certainly wouldn’t lie about something like that, Captain.”

10) “Two on however many. I’ll take those odds.”

11) “What? You want my life story?” Her eyes narrowed, challenging him just enough. “Is this our first date?” she asked, lifting the MRE packet. “Really splurged on dinner.”

12) “Whatever it takes.”

(and some lines from the COD MW fic i'm working on)

13) “I know, I know. Bureaucratic bullshit, not my fault, can’t let it bury me. Got enough going on inside this head already, yeah?”

14) “Tell me I can help at least. Tell me I can do something. Don’t just let me sit here in this empty house, alone, not when I can be out there making things right. Tell me you’re going to need me on this one, John.”

15) “Love you too, prat.”

16) “Oh, please, no.” She shook her head. “None of the formality. I might sound like I have a stick shoved up my arse, but I assure you, that’s not me.” She held out her hand to shake, and was met by a firm squeeze by Garrick’s hand. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

17) “I’m not sure the simple act of trying to keep you alive is being ‘too good’.”

#tagged #oc: kit cross #oc: rory sinclair #oc aesthetics

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camels-pen · 6 months ago

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playing pretend

sanusoweek Day 3 - Childhood Friends

Summary: Usopp runs away and finds a new friend and home. Merry is more than a little concerned about it.

Ao3 Link | sanuso week series | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 5 | Day 6

“C’mon, c’mon! Hurry up, Usopp!”

“I’m coming as fast as I can!” Usopp bent over, panting. “I’m taller than you, how come you’re so much faster?”

Sanji laughed. “I’m not that fast; lots of kids are faster than me.”

“Yeah, well,”—Usopp puffed out his chest—“I was the fastest on my island. I won every race, even against the adults! So that makes you the super fastest.”

“Super fastest isn’t even a real word.”

“It is at my house!”

“Well, you’re not at your house right now.” Sanji grinned. “And I say it’s not a word.”

“Sanji!”

“It isn’t! We can check the dictionary!”

Usopp puffed up his cheeks. “You probably have a cook’s dictionary. There won’t be any regular words in there.”

“A dictionary’s a dictionary!” Sanji laughed. “Now c’mon, we gotta get ready for bed before the geezer catches us.”

Usopp jumped and took off past Sanji. “I don’t wanna be breakfast!” he shrieked.

As the boys disappeared down the hallway, their loud chattering echoing off the walls, Zeff huffed. He pulled back from where he was peeking around the corner and turned to the butler. “See? Doing just fine, like I told you.”

The butler raised an eyebrow.

Zeff rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall. “Just a little fib; Parsnip would stay up all night if I let him.” The butler thinned his lips. “Relax, the Eggplant—Sanji figured it out pretty quick.”

“Yes, well, Mr. Red Leg, I appreciate the… hospitality you’ve shown him,” the butler said, “But on my good name, I have promised my young mistress to bring back her friend soon as I am able.”

“Right. Jolly, was it?”

He frowned. “Merry, Mr. Red Leg.”

He nodded. “Merry. First off, cut the ‘Mister’ shit; the Eggplant’s the only one allowed to call me decrepit. And the Parsnip, if he ever gets ‘round to it. Second,”—he glared, leaning in close until their noses were practically touching—“I ain’t stupid. I know that boy’s got no one looking after him. If he wants to stay here, he’ll stay here. That clear?”

Merry harrumphed, glaring right back. “While no one has yet stepped up as his primary guardian, the villagers, including myself, still check in and care for him. As for your second point, I still have yet to determine if you’re capable of caring for a child in this… rough and tumble establishment.”

“Ha!” Zeff threw his head back to laugh. “Just call it a filthy pirate’s restaurant like you want. I don’t give a shit.” He smirked. “But if I prove I won’t kill the kid, you’ll fuck off? Awfully, generous of you.”

“That is not what I said—”

Zeff slapped Merry on the back, sending him stumbling. “Great, how ‘bout I make something quick, pop a cork, and tell you some stories?”

—

Usopp appeared at the worst possible time.

It was lunch rush on a weekend, more than a few of their most annoying customers decided to show up on the same day, and the Eggplant was having one of his hissy fits about being treated like the little kid that he was.

It was during one of said hissy fits, while he was waving his arms about yelling at Zeff, that he smacked his hand into Usopp’s face.

Sanji jumped, turning and stumbling back towards Zeff before coming to some kind of realization and straightening up. “Who’re you?! You wanna fight or something?!” Zeff sighed. This kid and his tough guy phase. Hopefully, he’d grow out of it soon.

Zeff flicked the back of his head. “Mind your fucking manners.”

Sanji whirled on him. “Shut up! I don’t have to listen to you!” Slowly, he turned back around. “Sorry. Are you okay?”

Usopp, who’d been watching with a fish-in-a-net look in his eyes, stayed silent.

“Hey kid, your ears working?” Zeff leaned down, the length of his hat and upper body casting Usopp in near total shadow. “Say something.”

Usopp burst into tears.

—

“I don’t see how this helps your case.”

“Shut up, I’m setting the stage.”

—

“—and there was this goldfish and it was huge!” Usopp stretched his arms out wide over the table, knocking into his juice. Zeff caught it before it spilled. “It was thiiiiiis big and it was made of real gold!”

“Woah,” Sanji leaned over the table, his shirt falling into his half-eaten plate of carbonara, staining his uniform orange. “Did you catch it? Did you eat it? What does a goldfish made of gold taste like?!”

Usopp grinned wide, “Before I could catch it, I had to sing it a lullaby!”

“A lullaby?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it was too big for a fishing pole, so—”

“Don’t stay up too late,” Zeff interrupted as he walked through the doorway. “Or I’ll serve you up for breakfast.”

—

“You can’t just jump to weeks later—”

“Not weeks. Next day. And I’ve got one more.”

—

“A-Are you sure this is okay?” Usopp asked, head swivelling around with his hands twisted in the hem of Sanji’s shirt. “I mean what if your dad finds us—?”

Sanji frowned. “I keep telling you he’s not my dad. He’s…” He hummed, putting a hand on his chin. With a nod, he said, “He’s Zeff.”

“Okay, if Zeff finds us then won’t we get in trouble?” Usopp shivered. “I don’t want him to cover the sun again.”

“What? That’s dumb, he can’t��oh,” Sanji turned and pulled one of Usopp’s hands between his own. “It’s okay, Usopp, he looks scary, but that old geezer’s a softie.” He made a noise of surprise and rubbed Usopp’s hand roughly. “Woah, your hands are really cold! Did you stick ‘em in the freezer or something?”

“They’re not cold, yours are just too hot!” He pulled his hands away. “Look, see? There’s steam, that’s how hot your hands are!”

“There isn’t any steam.”

“Is too!”

“Is not.” Sanji pouted. “Whatever, let’s get going so you can show me your weird game.”

“It’s not weird, it’s dressup.” Usopp puffed out his chest and marched ahead of Sanji, worries forgotten. “I used to do it with my mom all the time, so I’m great at it. Just follow my mead.”

“You mean ‘follow my lead’.”

“That’s what I said.”

The two shuffled their way to Zeff’s room, side-by-side with their backs against the wall, at Usopp’s insistence. The heavy wooden door creaked as Sanji opened it just enough for him and Usopp to slip in.

Usopp started poking around the room while Sanji watched. “You still didn’t tell me what dressup is—”

“I’ll tell you, but you gotta help me find reeeeaaally big clothes first.”

Sanji rolled his eyes. “The big door on the wall.”

Usopp pulled open the closet door. He was met with a wall of clean and nicely pressed uniforms. “Ugh, not this boring stuff—where are his fun clothes?”

Sanji hummed. He walked over to the chest at the end of Zeff’s bed and kicked at the lock until it popped open. Inside there were weathered pirate clothes and an extra chef’s hat.

“Woah, these are perfect!” Usopp pushed past Sanji to dig around the chest. He pulled out a tattered off-white coat and a dusty green sash, fumbling to put them on. The coat was so big on him he was practically swimming in the fabric.

“They won’t fit,” Sanji said. He giggled quietly as Usopp kept trying and failing to tie the sash around his waist.

“They’re not—” Usopp made a noise of frustration as he failed again. “They’re not supposed to fit, that’s the fun part! You put on a bunch of way too big clothes and make up a story about who you are.” He yanked the chef’s hat from the pile and held it out. “Here, you try.”

Sanji took the hat in both hands, his grip gentle. His head was bowed as he stared at it. Tentatively, he tugged it on, his head swaying back and forth as he tried to keep it upright.

When he finally had it, and noticed Usopp’s expectant stare, he stuttered out a quick. “I-I don’t know. I’m the sous chef, I guess.”

“What’s a Sue chef? Is that what Zeff does?”

“No, he’s the head chef and owner.”

“Then you should be that!” Usopp grinned. “Being the big boss is way cooler.”

Sanji sputtered, a blush coming to his face. “I can’t just be the head chef, I’m not good enough yet!”

Usopp tilted his head. “Who cares if you’re good enough? It’s just pretend. I mean look at me.” He waved his arms, the long sleeves flapping in the air. “My boat broke and I washed up at the Baratie a couple days after I started my journey.”

Sanji nodded. “Yeah, that was pretty sad.”

“Shut up, what do you know!”

“You said so yourself!”

Usopp puffed up his cheeks.

Sanji huffed. “Why’d you start talking about your bad pirating skills in the first place?”

“Oh right.” Usopp grinned. “Playing dressup means you can be whatever you want to be and do whatever you want to do.”

He pointed at Sanji, the sleeve dangling down over his hand.

“So, Sanji, what do you want to be?”

Sanji stiffened. “I-I don’t—”

“C’mon Sanji, I’ll even keep it a secret if you want!”

Sanji pulled the hat down over his eyes, his blush returning. “Promise?”

Usopp nodded vigorously. “Promise!”

Sanji took a deep breath.

Zeff quietly closed the door.

—

Merry’s eyes softened. “That does sound rather adorable. However,”—he pushed himself up from the table—“getting along with your charge doesn’t mean this environment is suitable for him. You’re welcome to bring Sanji to the Gecko Islands for a visit, but Usopp will be coming back with me—”

“Mr. Zeff!” Usopp yelled as he ran down the staircase, Sanji close behind. They both stopped by Zeff��s side of the table. “I finished first so I get to pick the story today!”

“He cheated!” Sanji said. “He—”

Usopp slapped his hands over Sanji’s mouth. “Nuh-uh! Sanji’s just a poor loser!”

“I think you mean sore loser.”

“That’s what I—” Usopp jolted, rushing to hide behind Sanji. “Mr. Merry, w-what are you doing here?” Sanji looked between Usopp and Merry and balled his fists, glaring at Merry.

“Sorry to drag you away when you got all ready for bed, but I’m here to take you home.”

“He is home,” Sanji said. “So why don’t you beat it before I make you.”

“Eggplant, cool it.” Sanji continued to glare. Zeff picked him up by the back of his sleep shirt.

“Put me down you—!” His words got quieter as Zeff took him through the kitchen doors. He reappeared a moment later, leaning against the doors. Sanji’s muffled shouts and banging could be heard through the wood.

Merry knelt down and Usopp’s shoulders hunched up. “Usopp, Miss Kaya has been deeply worried about you.”

Usopp looked away.

“The other villagers and myself have also been concerned when we stopped hearing from you.”

His shoulders started to shake.

“Your friend can visit, of course, but you have your own home—”

Usopp burst into tears. “Mr. Merry, I don’t wanna go!”

Merry was taken aback. He’d expected some complaining and grumbling, but not this.

“Mr. Zeff and Sanji and the other cooks are really nice and fun and they’re around all the time and I’m never lonely and I don’t want Kaya to worry, but I wanna stay here forever and ever!”

“I—”

“Please please please, Mr. Merry, don’t make me leave,” he blubbered. “I don’t wanna go back to my house, it’s empty and scary and it has a whole bunch of mama’s stuff, but not mama and—”

“If you’re close by, at your house, then we can come visit you,” Merry said, his voice softer. Fatigue and self doubt warred in his mind, but still he persisted. “What if you get hurt? Or eat something you’re not supposed to?”

Usopp shook his head violently. “I won’t! Mr. Zeff and Sanji are really strong and they know a lot about food—they know the good mushrooms from the ones that make you sick.”

“And seeing Miss Kaya?”

He paused a moment and then quietly said, “I’ll make another boat and come visit her. It’ll be bigger than last time, and sturdier too.”

“It would be safer to only have to traverse a few grassy hills rather than a few hundred miles of open sea.” Usopp’s lip started to wobble. Merry squeezed his shoulder. “I know you like it here, but Usopp you would be better off…” at home, Merry wanted to say. He couldn’t muster the words.

Usopp got various scrapes, bruises, and nasty cuts quite frequently after his mother died, traipsing around the forest and the shore. He had gotten sick from toxic food he had foraged for himself. He left on a shabby raft in the middle of the day, for god’s sake!

And the only reason Merry had even come, had even known he had left, was Miss Kaya’s worry for her friend and a retired fisherman that happened to spot the boy as he was leaving. The fisherman hadn’t said a thing. He thought Usopp was playing some sort of game.

Merry looked Usopp up and down. Took in the clean pajamas and unblemished dark skin. Touched his cheek and rubbed his thumb across it. It had been so long since he saw them looking so round and full.

He would be better off…

Merry sighed, pulling a paper from his coat. Usopp made a questioning noise.

“Whenever you want to visit, just call. I’ll come pick you up.”

Usopp positively lit up, a grin growing wide on his face. He jumped forward pulling Merry into a hug. “I promise to call soon—oh! And maybe Kaya can visit here sometimes too! She’d love all the nice food and I can show her around.” He puffed out his chest. “I’m an expert about this place by now.”

“Yeah right, you don’t even know about the battle fins!” Sanji said, running up and grabbing Usopp’s hand. Zeff was slowly following behind him.

“This ship can fight?!” Usopp exclaimed as Sanji led him away.

Merry watched on, a smile on his face. He heard the thud of wood on wood stop next to him. “You knew I would let him stay?”

“I knew you were a decent man.”

Merry laughed. “And so are you, Zeff.”

#one piece #usopp #sanji #sanuso #sanusoweek #nemo the writing ho #kid usopp #kid sanji #zeff #merry the butler

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placeinthisworld · 7 months ago

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ttpdta review part one 🤠

let me preface this by stating that i am a swiftie first and person second in this situation. i have grown up with taylor and feel as if shes my big sister- yes i can make fun of her but if i see anyone else do it i will get fiercely protective. i do understand her music is not only art but also her form of therapy. that being said, throughout these nonsense notes i am constantly mentioning that taylor should go to therapy. i am aware of what she has said about therapy (and why she doesn’t go) but i would beg to differ with her…especially after this album release lol.

taylor is an extraordinary storyteller and song writer. i believe this album is full of evidence of that, but it also has some faults that prevent from being as good as i felt like it could have been. overall the album feels rushed.

i also feel like it’s important to recognize the elephant in the room. i know we probably all expected this to be a joe breakup album, so the fact that it turned out to be a “fuck you matty healy” album shook us all a little bit. i know matty had a controversial history, im not gonna sit here and defend him. i don’t know much about him other than what is forced against my will. i do however know that he struggles with mental health issues/ substance abuse/ addiction. i’m not gonna comment much about his personal issues, i don’t feel like that’s right and taylor’s constant references to drugs throughout ttpd definitely rubs me the wrong way. i should also mention i grew up with an active addict and do view things from that perspective, so i feel slightly triggered by the topic and my feelings about that may just be personal but i do mention that in my notes when it’s relevant.

lastly, i am not a music production girlie idk shit lol. i only know i am a aaron dessner stan so any song with his name im already biased towards and i am aware, if u don’t like that idk what to tell u lol. i just know what i feel like is “good” or “bad” but music is subjective🫶🏻

1. Fortnight:

Hate the functional alcoholic part. Like the beat, the chorus is catchy. One thing i love about a taylor swift song is that theres always a story and its always visual. I like the metaphor of the “good neighbors” of like having this teasing/ longing feeling for someone that you could have had a life with. “Your wife waters flowers/ i want to kill her + my husbands cheating/ i want to kill him” feeling like you were robbed of her life, feeling “all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february” reminiscing about the short period of time where you were together and convinced it would last forever (only for it to end before it even started). I do not listen to much post malone but i enjoyed his verse!! So many florida references we get it everything bad happens in florida.

i have not seen the video yet oooopsies

2. Ttpd:

i thought this was the opening of Hey Stephen (the remix) or something at first. gotta say i absolutely love the way she sings “you left your typewriter at my apartment/ straight from the tortured poets department” i enjoyed the vibe of this song, and lyrics up until the “you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate (OKAY SOOOOOOO ME CODED NGL I LAUGHED at this point i could let this lyric slide- bit then she had to mention the charlie puth and golden retriever thing and ngl it almost ruins the song entirely for me. Tbh when i first listened to the leak i thought this was a fake AI song and that i was sending around a fake leak bc these lyrics started to get a little weird to me. ‘Sometimes i wonder if youre gonna screw this up with me/ but you told lucy you’d kill yourself if i ever leave” …………girl i am begging you to see a therapist (side note did anyone else have a friend in hs whos bf would say that shit a lot?? I remember straight up fighting with a friend who refused to break up w her bf bc he would threaten to end his own life is she did and he was like 16? If an adult is saying that same shit i would be Very concerned not gossiping about it???) “i chose this cyclone with you” my first reaction was: ride the cyclone the musical? Overall i liked the first half but you lost me at charlie puth (hes the one with eyebrow right? I think i get him and miles teller mixed up) (i dont know who either of these men are)

3. My boy only breaks his favorite things:

Okay tbh i thought this was gonna be one of my least favorites, but the total opposite happened. I think this is one of my top 5 favorites on this album. I do think that there is a difference between a poem and a song and that they are not always interchangeable. I feel like if this was edited into a poem it would be KILLER. The visuals, the the story, the vocabulary, the sadness in it. “Im queen of sandcastles he destroys/ There was danger in the heat of my touch/ once i fix me/ hes gonna miss me/ i felt more when we played pretend then with all the kens / cause he took me out of my box” i feel like ever since folklore, taylors been trying to push these big fancy words and sometimes it feels awkward and forced, but this is one of the rare songs that doesn't suffer from that.

4. Down bad:

meh. Chorus is catchy. I dont love the narrative “fuck it if i cant have him/ i might just it would make no difference” but i also have never once experienced that over a person before lmao……….taylor go to therapy. Nothing really stands out about this to me otherwise. No offense, but it sounds like a generic jack antonoff song lol. Like maybe if another artist released this, i would enjoy it more but idk i wouldnt expect it from taylor i guess. Just kinda feels boring to me sorry if u enjoy it <3

5. So long, london:

oh man were done with british men now for real for real. “ two graves one gun. I'll find someone” its over for joe and matty (but thats fine if all she has to say about joe is what i think she said on this album i am happy i think We Get It…) Aaron dessner i love u (remember when he reposted me on his ig ahh).”i kept calm and carried the weight of the rift/ pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away” + “I stopped trying to make him laugh/ stopped trying to drill the safe/ i didnt opt in to be our odd man out/ im pissed off you let me give you all of that youth for free” oof i FELT that one a LITTLE too hard. I think this is both a song about matty and joe- i think she had a life and an attachment to london just in general through both relationships, “im just mad as hell because i loved this place” and so reflecting back on how both are over and how all those plans with either are done. “You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days” OKAY kinda hate this phrase bc it feels like shes placing blame on whomever’s mental health/ depression, like as if they made the conscious decision to sacrifice the relationship solely. This very much feels like “how much sadness did you think i could take before i got bored???” overall top favorite songs bc it doesnt have too many cringey or odd lyrics and the production is 10/10 thank u aaron dessner ilysm king

6. But daddy i love him:

tbh when i got the leak this was the first song i listened to bc i thought it was gonna be the worst one and i wanted to get it over with (i was RIGHT until she dropped that second half……..) and i DIDNT have the lyrics obviously so i couldnt for the life of me figure out if she really said “im having his baby…..NO IM NOT!” until the VERY end of the song and bro…….the cringe. The cringe. The cringe. This is also when i started to question if this was real or if i was passing out a fake leak, lol. I dont understand how she could be saying this shit about matty. And like we all know it lol. “Sometimes growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all” …….but like does it??? I feel like thats kinda an oxymoron or something like i understand what shes trying to say and MOST of the time her metaphors and comparisons make sense to me but like this one doesnt. Growing up precocious means to grow up more advanced in maturity, how would that also mean not growing up at all? Is it just me getting stoned and overthinking things? “Ill tell you something about my good name/ its mine alone to disgrace” true that bestie ur doin a great job by being so politically quiet over the past couple of yeats after making a whole asss documentary about wanting to be on the right side of history. But I digress i am just one of those bitches performing soliloquies you'll never see. Overall this song is very weird and cringey imo and i wish it stayed in whatever vault it was sitting in lol.

7.Fresh out of the slammer: “In the shade of how he was feeling” -_- dont like this narrative already. I could honestly go on a rant about why i dont like this song but im going to spare for the sake of my sanity in this review of thirty one fucking songs but its along these lines “to the one who says im the girl of his american dreams” oh brother. otherwise i dont care for many of the lyrics, the chorus/ melody/vibe is mid i guess. It sounds like another jack song (i was right)

8. Florida!!!: “all my friends smell like weed or little babies” okay i know what she was trying to say but im SORRY you cant tell me she couldnt think of ANY other way to say her friends are either parents partiers lmao. Deserves jail for that but luckily the vibe and the chorus of the song are really catchy and florence’s voice is beautiful in it. “Well me and my ghost we had a hell of a time/ yes im haunted but im feeling just fine” CHILLS i loved it. I didnt think i would like this song but (maybe as much as i like no body, no crime which is meh) but no i lowkey love this song and think its really fun. Once again the drug references start to get heavy here in the album and like i mentioned i do get slightly triggered by drug mentions.

9. Guilty as sin?:

okay taylor we get it you masterbate. Another strong jack song and it’s pretty similar to others on the album so nothing besides the sexual lyrics stand out.

10. Whos afraid of little old me?:

“if you wanted me dead you should have just said/ nothing makes me feel more alive” ooooooooooh i love that. I feel like a live or an acoustic version of this song would give me CHILLS. “Is it a wonder i broke / lets hear one more joke/ then we can all laugh until i cry” honestly so relatable, “i was tame, i was gentle til the circus life made me mean” oh :( that hurt bc it just reminds me of the vibe shift during midnights era/ eras tour where it *feels* like she started to pull back from being taylor swift and started to become Taylor Swift (™) and the way her fans/ media has treated her made her mean or cold or something and that just makes me feel sad. “Whos afraid of little old me? You caged me and then you called me crazy! I am what i am cause you trained me! SO. WHOS. AFRAID. OF ME? Again the narcotics line kinda makes me feel icky but thats bc i have that thing about drugs and just dont LOVE all the references to them. Like i know its not that serious but theres a reason why i dont seek out artists that typically talk or write about that stuff ya know so its weird. Overall i think the production is one of the most unique ones on this part of the album.

11. I can fix him (no really i can):

i hate it all around i think. I hate the narrative of “i can fix him!! I can handle a dangerous man!!! No really i can!!!” there is a reason why this song is barely 3 mins long lol it should have been cut but i think taylor wanted to Be Edgy. i dont care for the productions or the lyrics, its very forgetful imo.

12. Loml:

okay i really thought this was gonna be a joe song (rip) so i was thinking it was gonna be really deep and sad and like it IS but with the context of it being the pt 2 fling with matty it doesnt seem like it now. Anyone who thinks this is not about matty please look at the lyrics and be so serious “whos gonna stop us from waltzing back into reklndled flames/ if we know the steps anyway” I think matty just said too much shit to taylor during their fling and taylor WAS truly convinced this her invisible string and he promised her a lot that he couldnt upkeep and ghosted her and she took it SUPER hard, i mean two breakups in one year is a lot (me, whos never been through a single breakup once). I just dont understand how she feels like matty is the greatest loss of her life. One of my favorite tracks on the album, “our field of dreams engulfed in fire/ your arsons match your somber eyes” a LOT of these lyrics are actually really good imo. I think im the only one that didnt find the “mr. steal your girl and make her cry” line idk i thought it was actually kinda neat, the phrasing of it, kinda contradicts the title “love of my life” because he was never that serious or respectful of her and only use her from the beginning. This is another song that i think would make KILLER poem over song. Overall i think the piano is haunting and a live version of this will make me die, thank u again aaron dessner 10/10

13. I can do it with a broken heart:

ngl i thought this was the opening to mastermind for a hot second- also gave me a scare on whether or not this was a fake leak lol. Catchy ass chorus but very YOYOK. “Breaking down i hit the floor/ All the pieces of me shattered/ as the crowd was shouting “more!” ooffffffff seeeeee that is exactly WHAT i was afraid she was feeling durning the eras tour after the joe breakup/ matty situation and all these stupid twitter and tik tok swiffers were out here overanalyzing EVERYTHING and demanding rep tv like every other day. “Im so depressed i act like its my birthday” …….okay taylor. Like a lot of people have said, i think she interchanges “depressed” for “sad” a lot and the two are not the same. I think taylor wrote this song (but specifically the “i cry a lot time but i am so productive” and was like “yup this part is gonna go viral on tik tok,” initially i wrote “feels like taylor saw that depression barbie commercial in barbie 2023 and wrote a song based on that” lol which i still agree with. Overall the production of this screams midnights reject lol, very jack antonoff. Over time this song has grown on me a lot. Originally i didnt care for it but now its kind of a bop but i think its bc its so similar to YOYOK. “Try and come for my job” @taylorswift deadass you couldn’t think of anything else to say instead. cmon. I was mostly on board until that very last part, just seemed very cheesy lol like its not a big deal but i thought it delivered well without it.

14. The smallest man who ever lived:

(aaron thank u for saving me and this entire album) “they just ghosted you/ now you know what it feels like” OUCH. “i dont even want you back i just want you to know/ if rusting my sparkling was the goal/ and i dont miss what we had but can someone give/ a message to the smallest man who ever lived” oh this was somber af. I am obsessed with the phrasing of the chorus. I also LOVE taylors deeper voice its def giving me the same feelings MTR gave me from folklore, that made me CRY and this was very similar. This is another classic taylor song that i could EASILY write like a ten page essay about if someone put a gun to my head. I know that its about a *romantic* relationship, but it feels general enough to be able to relate to anyone who is close to someone with an addiction or struggles with substances. A lot of addicts dont understand the impact of their addiction or their behaviors that they display while struggling. To meeeeee, this feels very much like “you were self centered and betrayed my trust, was any of this true? Real? Am i paranoid or is this that deep?” “it wasnt sexy once it wasnt forbidden” has me thinking lots of things. I think that describes taylors “type”if that makes sense? Like i said i would need to literally break this song down line by line like its ridiculous i have too many thoughts about this song i have listened to it on repeat six times by the time im typing this. “In public showed me off/ then sank in stoned oblivion” FUCK. “you treat her like an also-ran” honestly i have never heard of that phrase/word thank u dr. swift. “Were you sent by someone who wanted me DEAD/ did you sleep with a GUN underneath OUR BED/ were you writing a BOOK?/ were you a sleeper cell SPY? IN 5O YEARS WILL THIS BE ALL DECLASSIFIED?/ AND YOU’LL CONFESS WHY YOU DID IT!/ AND ILL SAY GOOD RIDDANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” tears were formed besties. Also love the gracie abrams reference. “And you deserve prison but you wont get time” i feel like is very metaphorical like you DESERVE to be punished for what you did to me but you won’t admit to the guilt, you wont admit your wrongdoings, you wont admit that i would have done anything for you and you have no problem replacing me. “You said normal girls were boring/ but you were gone by the morning” first of all red flag girlie, nonetheless heartbreaking. “And in plain sight you hid/ but you are what you did” i say this with all the love in my heart, someone take taylor swift to a really good really private therapist. I could say more but i think i need to move on because i am now on my eighth cyle of listening to this song.

15. The alchemy:

already kinda hate it. “What if i told you im back/ the hospital was a drag/ worst sleep i ever had” do you think taylor swift has ever been admitted to a real hospital in this context. Feels very out of place and like i said earlier i dont love the psych ward visuals/ references she keeps inserting in this album. “He jokes its heroin but this time with an e” thanks! I fucking hate that line so much. Feels very icky, not funny. I get what shes going for but it falls so flat for me. The football references (yall know my opinion on meathead!!!!!!!! I will not engage!!!) are fucking dumb. Production is kinda lame and uninterested. Will only listen to this song if by force and will not repeat it ive head enough lets move on.

i have Lots Of Thoughts. i don’t think anyone cares about what i have to say though so i don’t think i’ll bother posting the rest lol but i did do a lot of work so ill post just a bit to make myself feel better.

#personal #ts ttpd #ttpd #the tortured poets department

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itsthestutterforme · 10 months ago

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Hey Rebel 1/2 (Alpha!Ari Levinson x omega!reader)

Summary: Ari tags along on one of your missions, nearly jeopardizing it when he catches a whiff of your intoxicating scent.

Notes: GIF is not mine, this is not a beta’d read, A/B/O dynamics, reader is Afro!Latina and a CIA agent, reader is very bratty in this series

“I see the target,” you said through comms. The loud bass from the music reverberated in your ribs as you push passed a few people in the club.

The club was a lot more busy than you anticipated which made your mission quite easy for you.

You preferred to work alone on missions but with this particular target was violent and the two of you had history.

He killed your partner and made you watch. He kept you alive to continue the torment of know that your mistake had your partner killed.

Though he wasn’t just your partner, he was boyfriend at the time. His scent was everywhere in your apartment, and when it slowly started to disintegrate in spaces he would hang out the most, you wanted to tear your heart out.

When his clothes stopped smelling him and started smelling like you, you had nothing left of him but memories.

He wasn’t your mate necessarily, but you he made you feel safer than any of your previous boyfriends had.

His death put you in second gear on your missions. Your accuracy increased by 23% and you spent every waking minute in the gun range or in the gym. You were a forced to be reckoned with and quickly became Ethan’s favorite agent.

And Ethan couldn’t have his favorite girl off on a potential murder mission without backup.

So he sent in a newer agent with a promising record in shooting accuracy for support. And he sent in Ari, his other favorite.

If the target made your cover, he was as good as gone. So you put your pride aside and disguised as an exotic dancer.

It was the best chance to get close to the target without immediately getting made.

You tugged at the bottom strap of your solid gold top to alleviate some pressure on your ribs. You were sure they gave you a size smaller than you told them so your breasts are practically spilling out.

The bottom was a measly and thin, it was very obvious that it was made of leotard fabric and tailored it to be a bikini bottom.

You had absolutely no breathing room in this outfit. Every inch of skin on your body that could be visible is shown.

You’re not necessarily used to your sternum tattoo and your thigh tattoos being visible to the naked eye.

Continuing through the crowd, a man slapped your ass as he walked by making you immediately tense.

You looked over your shoulder at him, watching as he drank your figure in. One disgusting man isn’t going to jeopardize your mission, so you continued moving.

The mixed scents of designations with smoke and sweat made you nose blind to anything else so you didn’t bother sniffing.

You made eye contact with the newer agent when he started speaking on coms.

“I count five guards,” he says, pressing and adjusting his Bluetooth in his ear.

A scowl made its way onto your face when you saw a larger man in an all black suit look in the new agent’s direction.

He flagged down another man and they converse for a few paces, sending occasional glances in his direction.

Shit.

“Do me a favor and stop messing with your comms. You’ve been made. Go to the rendezvous point.” You commanded.

“I wasn’t made.” “Fine then I’ll let Tweetledee and Tweetledum take you into the back alley and beat you to a pulp,” you snap.

His eyes widen when the two large men push their way through the crowd and beelined straight for him.

“On it. Sorry.” He rushes out the back door with them hot on his tail.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you rolled your neck around until it cracked. “Maybe you should go easy on the kid,” Ari points out.

“I’m not going to let anyone jeopardize my mission, Romeo.” “Your mission?” you opened your mouth to respond when a man whistled over at you, motioning you to come over once you made eye contact.

“Care to give me a dance, sweetheart?” The man asks, pulling you into his lap and squeezing your waist eagerly.

“Anything you want,” Ari’s gaze darkened when he saw your hips moving sensually to the soft beat of the music.

You threw your head back, your box braids swaying around until the landed on your chest. The man pulled you even closer, scenting the sensitive skin below your ear.

A omega woman approached Ari with a tray full of drinks.

“May I offer you a drink, sir?” She bends down slightly so he could take a drink from his seated position.

“Thanks honey,” he took out his wallet and gave her a twenty for her consideration. Her hand caressed his palm when she gingerly took the bill from his hand.

She moved her hair to the side, exposing her unmarked gland. “I’m not interested,” he takes a sip of his bourbon once the omega moves away from him.

Ari hasn’t had genuine relationship with an omega that wasn’t sexual. He initially fell for the bullshit theory that philosophers create centuries ago about the match made in Heaven.

An alpha and an omega destined to be together by the Alpha Gods.

He quickly realized when he married Rachel that not every omega can spark that special connection.

Just because omegas weren’t easy to find in common society, doesn’t mean they’re all special. Now he’s found himself caught in a marriage because an omega got pregnant

Neither of them have filed for a divorce yet because of the immense amount of paperwork and money that would go into it.

Ari came to terms with the fact that his child spends more time with the babysitter than with her parents.

With him away on missions and Rachel spending every waking minute with her sugar daddy alpha, the kid doesn’t stand a chance at a normal childhood.

And it’s not like anything is going to change any time soon.

Ari was seated in a loveseat across the room for you. He watches you over the rim of his glass, still dancing on the man’s lap.

He tilts his head as he tried to decipher your thigh tattoos from behind.

“I didn’t realize how tatted you were, Juliet.” You rolled your eyes at Ari’s remark and had glanced over the man’s shoulder at the target.

Rumlow. You thought to yourself. The man he was meeting hasn’t up yet, but you needed to prepare yourself for when he does.

Your strategizing was cut short when the man cradled your neck, smoothing a hand over your gland.

You stopped your movements, narrowing your eyes directly into his. The smile slowly fell from his face and a low growl grumbled in your chest.

His hand slowly dropped from your gland and you snapped at him.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” he holds his hands up and you slid off his lap.

“Pig,” you walked away from him and made your way to the bar. You were going to be giving drinks for the rest of the night. Screw the dances.

“Well that wasn’t very nice,” “Fuck you, Romeo.” He smiles against the glass before downing the rest of the bourbon.

Ari couldn’t help but notice the frequent head turning from groups of men when you walk by. Followed by the sniffs in your general direction.

Ari had to admit, you had an interesting scent. Actually, there is no scent initially and no way of telling what designation you were.

The way you carried yourself, you could easily be mistaken for an alpha. But Ari had a sneaky suspicion that you weren’t an alpha.

You were an omega that took the strongest scent blockers he’s even heard.

He’s smelled your original scent before. It was a faint whiff, but he smelled it and he’s been drunk for it ever since.

He made the connect that you scent spikes through the scent blockers when you’re aggravated about something.

Luckily for him, he had a knack for being aggravating. Truth was, Ethan knew you were capable of doing this mission alone.

It was Ari who insisted on tagging along.

But you will never figure that out. Or maybe you will, you’re quite the sharp tool. “We have a long night ahead of us. So let’s just play nice.” Ari suggests.

“Don’t provoke me and maybe I will,”

You continued serving drinks, getting more and more annoyed with every slap on the ass you received.

Ari kept an eye on the door to any new faces turn up and after a while, you realized how quiet your comms have been.

It’s been dead silent for at least five minutes. And Ari never knew when to shut up so you knew something was wrong.

You looked around for Ari only to find him staring at you confusingly. You needed to talk to him but you couldn’t pull him aside.

Otherwise that would break your cover. Letting out a sigh, you set the tray of drinks down at the bar and made your way over to him.

“Follow my lead,” you said to him, putting your hand on his shoulder and sliding into his lap. He keeps his hands by his side as he looked at you attentively.

You held his gaze for a moment before moving your hips against him and rolling your body. “What happened to comms?”

“No idea,” he slowly slides down the seat, his hands gripping the arm rests for dear life.

“Do you know how long they were out?” “No,” he grunts. “Do you think they’re onto us?” “There’s a chance. Are they looking?”

You glanced over his shoulder and saw Rumlow with a dancer giving him a lap dance. He downs his drink and shakes his glass at the bartender.

You felt Ari’s body tense underneath you and you raised a brow at him.

“If you want this to be believable, I need you to touch me.” “I’m trying to be respectful,”

“Please. Don’t pretend like your eyes haven’t been glued to my ass all night, Romeo.” He licks his lips and rested his hands on your thighs.

The second his hand touched your bare thigh, you inhaled sharply. Heat spread from your thighs up your waist and chest, finally resting on your face.

Your mating gland throbbed painfully and you stopped moving against him. His grip on your thighs tightened when you tried to move off of him.

Ari groans as the same burning heat took over him, his gland pulsing at the same rhythm as yours.

Your heart sank in your chest when you made the realization. Your scent was spreading passed the scent blockers.

Ari’s hands move up your back and held you close, dipping his head to inhale your sweet scent of honeysuckle and warm honey.

You let out a fearful growl when the tip of his nose brushes the base of your throat.

Your heart continued to patter in your chest when you made eye contact with the group of betas looking over at you, sniffing in your general direction.

The anxiety caused your scent to spike and you attempted to leave his lap once again but he held you down.

“Let me go,” “If I let you go now, they will swarm you. Just trust me,” he says the last few words slowly, removing his grip from your back.

He takes a few deep breaths, moving your body with each breath. You looked over at the initial group of betas who crinkled their noses and looked away from you.

His husky scent of pine and sandalwood invaded your nose in strong wafts. He was masking your scent with his, staking an unwanted claim. You had matched your breathing to his, bring you out of your anxiousness.

You hadn’t realized you were digging your nails into his dress shirt. Releasing him from your grip, you slid off his lap.

And when you looked over at the target, he was gone. “Mission’s over,” you hugged your arms to your chest and beelined for the changing room before Ari could reach for you again.

He waited for you outside in the car and you had changed back into your black slacks and white blouse.

You had pulled your box braids into a low bun. Sliding into the passenger seat, you tossed your duffel bag in the bag and sent a text to the new agent letting him know you were on your way.

Ari watched you turn your face to look out the window once you send the text. You were actively avoid any interaction with him.

At least before you entertained him with snarky remarks and insults. This was much worse. He reverses out the back alley and onto the highway.

“So are we going to talk about what happened in there?”

“Nothing happened, Levinson.” “Bullshit. You felt something and it scared you.” “No I wasn’t. I was pissed that I missed another chance to take the some of a bitch down.”

“Yeah, sure.” He says skeptically. “Why do you take such strong scent blockers?”

“Because of what happened in there. I’ve always had an intoxicating scent. And it’s gotten me into a lot of trouble as a teenager so I suppress it.”

“It is very intoxicating,” another silence fell over the two of you and Ari looked at you but your gaze remained outside the window.

“You’re really not going to talk about it?” “No. I already have a lot on my plate with work. I don’t need this right now.”

“Our primal instinct doesn’t care about our human duties,” “You sound just like those ancient men in those history books,” you dismiss.

“Look at me,” “No,” “Look at me, omega.” “You’re not my Alpha. You don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I just want to talk to you.” “There’s nothing to talk about,” “Yes, there is. Stop dismissing everything, Y/N. This is serious.”

And that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

You looked away from the window and said, “How serious is this, Ari? Hm? Is it life or death? Or just some stupid reason for Alphas to have complete control of another living being?”

You poked harshly at his arm and he growled at the tone you used and you emitted a growl low enough to make your chest vibrate.

“Y/N,” he warns. “I am not an omega you can just claim, Ari. If you try, I will make sure to make your life a living hell. So just drop it.”

You held his gaze for a few seconds before returning your gaze back out of the window. Ari made the conclusion like this was nothing like how they described it in the history books.

If you truly was his mate, then how the hell was he going to prove that to you? He had better luck finding a needle in a haystack.

Ari wasn’t sure what to do about pursuing you. Your inner omega was aggressive and untamed despite your calm human nature. You were strong for an omega and you made it clear that you had to be earned.

He spent weeks bring your flowers, contacting some of your coworkers to learn your favorite foods and wines. You didn’t trust him at all, but you decided to give him somewhat of a chance.

He took you on a date on horseback. Once he found out you grew up in el campo, he immediately researched the nearest horseback riding stable and booked a session.

He wanted to know as much about you as possible. From you of course, but you’ve been keeping him at arm’s length since you met him.

When he tried to lean in to kiss you after the date, you growled at him and retreated back into your house, leaving him completely dumbfounded on your porch.

You kept him on his toes, which encourages the chase. But Ari’s concern is that you never stop running from him.

That he won’t get the chance to catch you and he’ll lose you forever.

The last thing he had to remember between you was an argument. It was the day before he was set to leave for Ethiopia and wanted to see you before he left.

He would have been gone for weeks at a time and there was no telling when he would be back.

You were pissed because he hid the fact the was married from you. He thought you knew from Ethan but you hadn’t.

He replayed your argument almost daily in his head up until the drive back to your place after the assignment; his face would heat up at the mere thought of it.

“When were you going to tell me? Were you even going to tell me?” “Of course, I was- I thought you already knew.”

You scoffed and turned away from him to walk into your kitchen. “If I knew, I wouldn’t have given you the time of day.”

You took a glass from the cabinet and poured a bourbon on the rocks. “You barely give me the time of day now,”

“Any normal person would have gotten the hint by now and move on,” “Then I guess I’m not a normal person,” you down the drink in one shot, making a face when the burn lingers.

“Ari, I really don’t think this is going to work. You’re married. You obviously married her because you had some sort of connection with her. So focus on repairing things with her instead of starting new with me,”

“No. There was never a connection. I did it out of obligation.” “So.. does that make me an obligation then?”

“I want to be with you, Y/N. We share a connection whether you want to or not. So stop being stubborn for once and allow it to happen.” He snaps.

You met his gaze from across the counter and let out a long breath. “I think you should focus on your mission for tomorrow,” you said after a long pause.

He huffs and presses the palms of his hands against the counter. “Okay,” he said softly and left your house.

You waited for the door to close to lean your head against the wall. He wasn’t going to go away. So that means you have to.

Ari was immediately concerned when he was greeted by a for sale sign in your front yard when he pulled into your driveway.

He left the flower he bought you in the passenger seat and ran up the stairs. The front door was locked so he went around back to check if the sliding glass door was open.

He sighed in relief when the door smoothly slid open. Everything was moved out from the house and your scent has faded out, even in your bedroom.

He bowed his head when he realized that you were gone for nearly as long as he was on assignment.

Where the hell did you go?

He pulls out his phone and clicked on an unsaved number. On the third ring, someone answered.

“Well isn’t this a surprise. How’s it going, sunshine?” Lloyd greets. “Lloyd, I need you to do something to me,” “Name it,”

#alpha! ari levinson #black!reader #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x reader #afrolatina!reader

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