Oneshots, imagines and fanfictions.

I’m a bored teenage girl stuck in quarantine with nothing better to do. I adore writing and have been writing drabbles for years and I figured it’s finally time to bring some out into the world, whether they’re liked or not! If you have a request, inbox me.

[outranks]

If you’re still taking requests, how about a fluffy fic with John Seed x Dep/reader where the reader is shy and isn’t experienced with romance. Maybe she always gets flustered when John does something romantic for her and she’s always giggly and shy when he kisses her? Thx for considering my request!

thank you so much for requesting!! ❤️❤️❤️I don’t think I’ve ever written a shy character before, so I really did my best with this and I hope it’s what you were looking for!!

John Seed / Reader

–

Somehow, when you weren’t paying attention, Seed Ranch has become familiar to you. Not so much that you can map the layout in your sleep, but enough that you’ve come to expect the creak of the floorboards near the back door, or Peggies going about their business as they pretend not to see you whenever you arrive. It should be concerning in some small way— the fact that John no longer fits in the neat little box labeled “enemy”, but instead it’s becoming a small comfort to you. It’s the one place in the county that feels like you could belong.

You pause by the door, breathing in the scent of food cooking in the kitchen. and drop your bag on a chair in the corner. John is an ally, if only in companionable stress, but that’s enough for now and it’s brought you to a temporary truce. You agree to destroy fewer of his properties, and he agrees to fewer forced baptisms. 

It’s simple, but effective. 

“John?” you call, hoping to alert him to your presence before you step into view of his office. “I just wanted to use your shower before I go… do a favor for something…” It’s a request from Mary May, but you’re still debating how much you want to put another weaponized truck onto the playing field. Plus, you might be new at your job, but ‘machine gun mounted truck’ sounds pretty illegal.

Keep reading

[englass]

Threadbare

Pairing(s): John Seed x F! Reader/Deputy

Warning(s): A little bit of Possessive Behaviour near the end (when isn’t there in my fics haha)

Word Count: 9,101

A/N: Gonna use this opportunity to apologise to @starsandskies @softseeds and @seedlingsinner for not getting back to you on your ‘Last Line Meme’ tags, I’ve been working on this and didn’t want to risk spoiling anymore of it than I have 😅 Apologies again, lovelies! ❤️ Now, I hope you all enjoy this inconsistent mess;  I’m just glad that it’s finally over!

Also, side note: this is the final/original version of ‘A Moment In Time’ that I never thought that I’d finish, so… yeah, I actually finished it; oops? 😅

- - -

The room is quiet, save for the gentle rustle of fabric and your calm breathing, only ever holding when your concentration tightens or a loud sound catches your ear. It’s a risky move you’re making, being here of all places. All it would take is one slip up and any patrolling Peggies would come running. In your current position, rifle resting just out of comfortable reach against a nearby night stand and hand gun securely holstered to your thigh, the potential outcome could be precarious.

Still, such thoughts are far out of mind. If anything, for once, your mind is not plagued by the worries, fears and demands of the people. It is quiet, tranquil, filled with an occupied motion that lulls and eases. It is the most peace you have had since this whole debacle began; and secretly, unknowingly even to yourself, you take your sweet time and milk it for all it’s worth. An unconscious action deeply needed.

Every so often you take stock, pausing to look, only to end up staring at nothing in particular, around the room you hold court in. It’s a surprisingly large room and it is as gorgeous and telling as the man it belongs to: all high-class with expensive taste, yet subtly simple – modest in design and openly exquisite in every minute detail. Almost everything, save for the immaculate wooden furniture and feather-soft carpet, falls within the spectrum of blue. It creates an oceanic space filled with a deep and enriching sense of stillness and liberation, emulating the ebb and rise of a tempered wave.

It’s an absent wonder why sloth is visualised as the coercing colour.

Keep reading

[oneshots-drabbles]

You And I - Polo x Reader

A/N: Yet another drabble I’ve had in my documents for a while. This short one is based on a tiktok challenge that was going around for a while, and I thought it was too cute not to write about it. Polo was my chosen boy because he totally seems like the kind of boyfriend who’d put up with that stuff😉 Enjoy!

Word Count: Approx 500.

Warning: Fluff. Lots of fluff.

What’s the point of this again?” Polo asked, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you back towards him.

You grinned, pushing his hands away and focusing on setting up the phone camera in front of the two of you. “It’s just a fun thing that Cayetana said we should do, it’ll only take a minute.”

Polo sighed dramatically, releasing you and stepping back a bit. You watched him on your phone screen as you shifted it back and forth, trying to centre it correctly so you would both be in frame. He was adorable. He was blinking tiredly, exhausted after a long day of school and then studies. You’d begged him to stay up a little bit later, and he’d relented rather quickly - you always got what you wanted. He was too sweet to ever say no to you, especially when it came to silly things like this.

That’s how it had always been. You’d been dating for a year now, and you swore, you’d never been happier. He lit up your entire world.

“Okay.” You said, setting the timer, and jumping back so you were by Polo’s side.

He glanced at you. “What am I meant to be doing?”

“Just... listen and watch.” You said after a moment, a smile flickering on your lips again.

The timer eventually ran down to zero and it started recording - a young girls voice sang from the speakers and Polo raised his eyebrows, surprised.

“If you like a guy, clap your hands.” The girl sang.

Pointedly, you clapped your hands together twice and watched on screen as beside you, Polo broke out into a boyish grin.

“If he doesn’t like you back, clap your hands.”

That grin faded and his eyes widened - you raised your hands in preparation to clap, grinning again and trying not to laugh. Sort of frantically, he dove forward and gripped your hands tight, holding them apart so you couldn’t clap. You tried again but he began laughing, pulling you close to his chest and talking into your ear.

“No, you can’t clap. I like you back.” He declared.

By now you were in a fit of giggles and could barely comprehend what the girl was singing -

“If you’re talking to a guy and he has a lot of sides, and he played you like a game, clap your hands.”

You tried again fruitlessly to clap your hands but it was useless - Polo had you tight in his arms and was peppering the top of your head with kisses, making your laughs ring out loudly through the room.

“Polito!” You choked out in between giggles.

“I would never play you.” He replied, feigning hurt and releasing your hands to wrap his arms around your waist and tug you closer to him. You leaned back into the sensation, then squirmed around until you were facing him and gave a wry smile.

“I love you, Polito.” You told him truthfully, tilting your head up to place a gentle kiss to his lips.

He smiled. “I love you too, Y/N.”

[oneshots-drabbles]

Over Now - Ryan Howard x Reader

A/N: First post! I’ve had this one written for a while now, there’s also a second part that I started writing and never finished that I’d be more than happy to have a go at completing if people are interested. I hope you enjoy it you give it a read!

S4 Ep15, Night Out.

Word Count: Approx 1,700.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of drug abuse.

Ryan clumsily shoved the key into the lock, twisting it back and forth wildly in an attempt to open the door. “This is a one time thing, you know that right?”

You bit the inside of your lip, hanging back as far as you could from group. You had no interest in spending the night in Ryan’s apartment. You had no interest in being in this goddamn city in the first place, but Michael had insisted on your presence so he would be granted access to clubs.

As he pushed the door open Dwight closed in, easily catching a glimpse of the apartment over Ryan’s head. “Wow!”

“This is it.” Michael said, somewhat in awe.

You held in a scoff - this wasn’t your first time at Ryan’s apartment. You knew that Michaels judgement was horribly clouded by how much he looked up to his former employee.

In reality, the place was a dump - out in the world he might be able to hide behind his lavish exterior, might be able to make it seem like he was living the dream, but that was not the case.

The first night you’d stayed at the apartment, months ago, back when he’d first moved and you were still together, the hot water had ran out within a minute in the shower.

Another night, there was a power outage and you’d been shroud in darkness the whole evening - not that Ryan really minded anyway - by that point he’d begun using you as a way to get his dick wet, not that you’d realised it at the time. Almost all of your visits to the city were wham bam thank you, ma’am, and you’d quickly grown tired of it and broken things off.

Many times when he’d returned to the Scranton branch for a meeting he’d tried to talk to you about how sudden it all was - “I thought we were happy,” He’d said. “You know how stressful this is for me, right?”

“Alright!” Dwight said gleefully, stepping into the apartment.

You followed nervously after them. By the time you made it to the doorway, Dwight was already flopped down on the couch and Ryan had taken up residence on the bed. You felt your cheeks redden as you thought about that bed - the things you’d done on it.

“This is where the magic happens.” Michael said, turning back and winking at you.

Well, if you’d been red before. Your eyes shifted compulsively to Ryan’s - he was already looking at you, a sort of mournful expression on his face. Regret, even. You quickly glanced away and smiled at Michael, who was still exploring the apartment in awe.

Ryan sniffed, pulling off his coat. You watched from the corner of your eye, not wanting to look over at him. “One of you can have the sofa, and one of you can have the floor.”

You realised he was directing this towards Michael and Dwight, and you furrowed your brow in confusion.

“I’ll take the sofa.” Michael announced, at the same time Dwight called, “I got sofa!”

The two of them began bickering and you trailed your eyes reluctantly back to Ryan’s - once again he was already looking at you. This time you held his gaze, raising your eyebrows questioningly.

“Well we both know you don’t have a spare bed for me.” You told him quietly, so the two bickering boys wouldn’t hear. “So where am I supposed to crash?”

Ryan glanced down at the bed he was sitting on. Oh, he better not...

“It’s a double.” He said with a shrug. “We can even make a barrier of pillows, if you’d like.”

Your mind was slowly starting to spin. He had to be joking, right? He wasn’t seriously expecting you to sleep in his bed - the bed you’d made love and fucked on countless times - with him again? You’d sworn months ago that you’d never even see this apartment again, dammit, and now you were going to be sleeping in it?

You were so exhausted, though, after such a long night of following Michael around, that you found you didn’t even have the energy to argue. You could kick up a fuss and refuse and scream and cry - or you could suck it up, sleep in the bed and get the fuck out of there first thing in the morning.

You sucked in a harsh breath. “I’ll take left.”

You tried to ignore the way his face changed as you said it - he clearly had been expecting a fight. Rather than poking that sleeping bear, however, he wriggled over to the right side of the bed and collapsed down, dramatically gripping his head.

Dwight noticed this. “Would you like me to sing you a song my mother used to sing when we were sick?”

He approached Ryan’s side of the bed, crouching down beside him.

Ryan sighed. “No.”

Softly, Dwight began to sing in a foreign language, ignoring Ryan’s protest. Ignoring them, you undid the buttons of your jacket and kicked off your heels - keeping on the stockings and grey work dress. Not the most comfortable sleep attire, but your other option was to ask to borrow some of Ryan’s and there was no chance of that.

You headed over to the bed, pulling back the covers and sitting down slowly on the mattress. One thing you would give Ryan and his shitty apartment - the bed was nice. It was soft and comfortable and if it wasn’t tainted with so many memories you’d probably be able to sleep no worries at all that night.

You settled down, tucking in under the covers and resting your head on the pillow. You made sure to stay as far to the left side as you could, and you closed your eyes in a desperate attempt to fall asleep as fast as possible.

“Guys, I think my friend Troy might have a drug problem.”

Your eyes shot open. Dwight and Michael were morons, they’d fall for something like that no worries - but you knew exactly what he meant by ‘my friend’. You’d seen the way Ryan had been acting all night - you’d seen the way his pupils had been practically nonexistent. Troy was not the one with a drug problem.

You’d known for a while of course. One of the few times he’d come to your house in the middle of the night, looking for a fuck or a warm bed, most of the time, he’d been acting the exact same way. You’d grabbed his face and studied his eyes closely - it was almost scary. His pupils were just gone. “Are you high?” You’d demanded to know, “What have you been taking?”

What hadn’t he been taking, more like.

The way he was asking, though, was what made you take pause. Ryan sounded almost desperate. He clearly needed advice on how to get help, and a part of you wanted to spring up and offer him your support, to hold his hand through the rehab that you were sure he’d need to go through.

But he wasn’t your boyfriend, anymore.

He wasn’t your responsibility.

So you closed your eyes again and listened as Dwight and Michael gave him horrible advice that only morons like them would follow - Ryan was sober enough to shut it down rather quickly, and then from there he ordered them off to their assigned sleeping quarters.

“Dwight, turn off the light.” Michael ordered from where he’d stretched out on the couch.

“You’re closer.” Dwight muttered back. He was curled up on the floor a few metres away from the bathroom, a pillow tucked under his head and a blanket wrapped around his body.

“I am the boss.” Michael reminded him. “And all that flirting is tiring, you wouldn’t understand.”

Dwight sighed. “Technically, Ryan is the boss here.”

The man in question let out a frustrated groan. “One of you turn off the light and stop. talking.”

They both stayed quiet after that, and Dwight got up to turn off the light, leaving the four of you in the dark. You lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling and listening to Michael snore. What a way to spend your Friday night.

“You awake?” Ryan mumbled.

You froze. You weren’t exactly sure whether or not to admit that you weren’t asleep, so you remained quiet to see whether he’d continue.

“It was good to see you, Y/N.” He muttered, letting out a sigh and rolling over so he was facing you. Hesitantly, you rolled over too and your eyes met. “I’ve missed you.”

“Ryan.” You whispered. “Why are you doing so many drugs?”

He sighed again. “It’s fun. Or, at least it was, at first. And it’s a good distraction.”

“But now you can’t stop.” You continued for him knowingly. It didn’t matter how much you resented him for treating you the way he did - a part of you did still care for him, and it was upsetting to see him so lost. You’d never seen him like this.

“You don’t get it.” He muttered. “Infinity is a massive failure, I’m all alone in this fucking city and you...”

He trailed off, squaring his jaw. “You made the right choice, you know?”

You didn’t reply for a couple of seconds, unsure of what to say. You and Ryan had been over for months, and you hadn’t even let yourself think about the breakup. You’d distracted yourself with work and babysitting Michael and Dwight most days, and on days when you didn’t have those things around you’d do anything you could to distract yourself. So in a way, you understood what he was going through. But that wasn’t what he needed to hear so you glanced down sadly, then met eyes with him again.

“Goodnight, Ryan.” You said softly, then rolled over to face the other direction again. He lingered in that position for a moment before shifting as well and you assumed he turned back to face the wall. You knew that you’d just hurt him - even when you were together, he struggled to open up.

But you weren’t together anymore. He couldn’t just spring this stuff on you out of nowhere, like you were still dating. Even if...

Even if you still cared. More than anything, you still cared.

But it’s over now.