#like I was genuinely like worried he was gonna throw his voice out…and thank goodness he got an award or I would’ve fought this game | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

talaok · 10 months

Note

Hey. I have an idea for pedro and reader

The reader's ex calls her in the middle of the night begging her back to him and the reader gets out the bedroom trying not to wake pedro up and avoid any fight but he wakes up and gets jealous and angry

Jealous Pedro is my own personal curse lol, I genuinely don’t get why you like him. But for you? Anything babes. Also, happy ending won in the poll, but thanks to an anon I've decided to write both endings bc I'm an asshole

warnings: jealousy, angst

Pt.2

Oh fuck please not again.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, and you didn’t even need to look at the caller to know who it was.

Only one person would call you at 4:45 am. the same one that had been flooding you with texts and calls for a week now.

You had been ignoring him, telling yourself that “It’s just a phase” and “it’ll pass”, but god, had you been wrong.

You and Jason had broken up two years ago now, and casually, just when you had finally made your relationship with Pedro public, he felt the need to connect with you again.

That's not how Jason had always been, he was once caring and fun and everything you needed... until he wasn't.

He hadn't taken your breaking up with him well, and you tried to be understanding of it, god knows you had been in the same position too once or twice, your heart broken, your mind confused- but then when after two months he'd still call you crying, you decided to give him a little tough love by texting him something that could be summarized in "I know you're hurt but this is getting kind of ridiculous at this point" and by blocking him.

Somewhere after that, for some godforsaken reason, you had decided to unblock him, and to really show off your decision-making skills, you even answered the phone when he had called you last week, finding him in tears, begging for a second chance.

If you were anyone to judge, this call wasn't gonna be much different, but this story had to end at one point, and as you got up from the bed, sneaking out of the room as Pedro breathed soft snores into the air, you decided the time had come.

"Jason?" you whispered, tiptoeing to the living room.

"baby? Oh my god it's really you, I've been trying to call you"

"yeah I saw" you stated, not short of sarcasm

"Oh t-that's ok, you were busy I jus-"

"no Jason I wasn't busy, this is inappropriate"

"Wha-what are you talking about baby, I love you"

there went the tears again

"Jason I'm sorry alright, but I don't, I have a boyfriend, I'm happy"

"no you don't understand babe I can't live without you, I love you more than life y/n, more than anything... I- I need you"

"Jason we broke up a long time ago. It's over. It has been for a while now"

"you don't mean that baby, we love each other, remember how good we were together? I know you do"

"stop calling me baby and stop calling me in general Jason. I don't love you and I don't want to get back together" Your voice raised to a whispery-yell as you got more frustrated.

"Why are you whispering- Is he there? Let me talk to him"

"why would I do that? What would you even want to tell him?"

"I'm sure I can make him understand, man to man y'konw-"

"oh shut up" you rolled your eyes "Jason stop calling me"

"but bab-"

"No. No buts, it's over. we're never getting back together. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to sleep, and I suggest you do the same"

"y/n please- I love you, I need you I-"

"goodnight Jason. Don't call me again" You didn't give him time to finish as you hung up, throwing your phone on the couch and closing your eyes as you took a very well-deserved deep breath.

Fuck this shit man.

"Who was it?"

You jumped on your feet, a shiver of fear running down your spine as you turned towards the ominous voice.

"Pedro-" you sighed, taking in his sleep-filled expression.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you" he apologized, with a soft chuckle "Who were you talking to?"

shit

"uh- don't worry, it was no one"

"I don't think it was no one if you got up at 4 in the morning to answer, did something happen?"

"no-no nothing like that, it's stupid, don't worry"

He frowned as he studied your expression, clearly confused at your secrecy.

"Who was it?"

Your eyes focused behind him at the glimpse of your room the opened door granted.

Everything was fine just 10 minutes ago...

"It was Jason"

Pedro paused a moment, taken aback by your answer

"Jason as in your ex-boyfriend Jason?" he asked "And why exactly was Jason calling you in the middle of the night?"

"it's not what you think"

This was why you didn't want him to know.

He had a history with unfaithfulness, the woman before you had cheated on him multiple times and left him hurt and bruised, and it was hard for him to fully trust you - or anyone for that matter- after that.

you didn't want him to close off again, you trusted each other, and you feared this would have given him a reason to get back to old habits.

"It's not? 'cause it sure looks like it"

"no, let me explain-" you got closer to him.

"I'm so fucking stupid" he huffed, not listening to you

"no you're not, just-listen to me" you said, putting a hand on his chest in an attempt to calm him down

He watched you, hurt and anger in his eyes, but he took a breath, nodding as he grumbled a "fine"

"He's been calling me for a while-"

"is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Baby, let me talk" you reminded him, and he gave you another non-enthusiastic nod "He's been calling me since I made our relationship public, saying that he wants to get back with me and that he loves me..." you paused, glancing at the way he tightened his fists by his side "and I've been ignoring him because-" your lips turned into a soft smile as you reached for his hand "...well because I've got you, and I don't want anybody else in the world except you"

You intertwined your fingers with his and brought his hand up to your mouth to leave a quick kiss on it.

"and the only reason why I answered tonight is because I was sick of it, and I wanted to tell him once and for all that we're done because I love you, and only you Pedro" You stood on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek "I promise"

You saw the way your words affected him.

And as much as he tried to fight it, you were always the only one able to calm him down, even when his worst fear came to life. Because he loved you, but most importantly... he trusted you.

"are you telling the truth?" he finally asked, as if in his mind he wasn't praying for you to be doing just that.

He didn't want to lose you, he couldn't.

"I am baby. I swear"

His eyes left yours for a second as he took a deep breath

"why didn't you tell me? I would have done something, I would have gone have a talk with that asshole"

You let out a small laugh

"yeah, a talk" you teased, raising your eyebrows "And besides it didn't matter, it was just a stupid thing not worth your time"

he took your other hand in his, shaking his head

"if he, or anybody else, does this again you tell me, ok?"

As much as you wanted to joke about how many crazy exes he believed you had, you decided this wasn't the time.

"ok" you smiled "I promise"

"good" he nodded, bending down to ghost your lips "Now let's go to bed so I can remind you of a few things I'm sure I'm better at than Jason"

__ __ __

or... (angst with no happy ending)

__ __ __

"It's not what you think"

"It's not? 'cause it sure looks like it"

"It was just a phone call Pedro, just let me explain"

"A phone call with your ex-boyfriend"

"yes, exactly my ex-boyfriend"

"This is unbelievable," he huffed, passing a hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture "I fucking trusted you. You made me trust you, and then... then you go screw that fucking asshole behind my back"

"I'm not screwing anybody"

"sure you aren't" he turned to walk away, but you grabbed his arm.

"Listen to me"

"To what? more lies?" he snapped

"No Pedro I can explain if you just let me talk"

"I don't need an explanation, I know exactly what's going on, just- leave me, I'll go"

"Just like that?" you questioned "You don't even wanna hear me out for a second? You so easily lose all the trust you had in me?"

"Can you blame me?"

"This is ridiculous, I've answered the phone to tell him to stop calling, that's the only reason why! I'm not cheating on you" you spoke, your tone getting louder "And the fact that you came to that conclusion so quickly is fucking insulting"

"right" he snickered "so you answered the phone at four in the morning to tell him to stop calling, very believable y/n" he shook his head "and to think you're a fucking actress"

"fuck you Pedro" you spat out "You know what? I deserve someone who trusts me, who lets me fucking speak and explain myself, not someone who at the first mistake throws me out like trash"

"And I deserve someone who's not a cheater. Guess we both deserve better"

"I guess we do"

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luveline · 11 months

Note

I have a potential request for the eddie zombie!AU! could I request eddie taking shy!reader under his wing as he is traveling? maybe she is injured and is like 100% sure she’s going to die but then eddie comes along like a knight and helps her to safety, and then they just stick together?

thank you for your request angel! —eddie finds you wounded in the midst of the apocalypse and wants to help, 2.5k, fem!reader. tw for zombie apocalypse typical circumstance, blood and injury

Eddie is absolutely sick of being alone. He imagined the apocalypse cooler than it turned out to be —there aren't that many people around anymore and he's constantly a bit hungry, and having long hair is now the norm. He hasn't seen a real living human being in three weeks and he's starting to wonder (worry) if he's the last man on Earth.

That is, until he sees blood on the sidewalk outside of a pizza place. He'd been planning on going inside just to smell the floury scent of pizza dough, and maybe pretend to answer the phone (he never worked as a delivery guy, but he thinks it might've been his calling). Blood is everywhere in the apocalypse. Genuinely everywhere, and it smells bad when it's old, vinegary and acrid. There's blood on car doors, bloody handprints on windows, pools of it where people died and then their bodies, reanimated and without control, stood and walked off again.

So Eddie's gotten good at blood. He knows old blood from new blood when he sees it, dead blood from alive blood, and the blood trail leading behind the smashed glass door of the pizza place is both new and alive. Or, probably alive. Was alive. He nudges it with his shoe, and it's still wet, not even slightly clotted.

Definitely alive.

Eddie doesn't really think about how whoever it is that's inside could murder him in cold blood for his gear. Eddie's sort of stacked —he has a bike, a proper one like a professional doing the Tour De French, or whatever, he doesn't remember what it's called, would need. The point is that he has a really sturdy bike and a wagon strapped behind it full of camping shit, and the world is so desolate that nobody's tried to shank him for it yet. He leaves his bike by the door and tries to open the door slowly, not wanting to startle whoever it is that's bleeding that badly into hiding from him and his extensive first aid kit.

Eddie pulls it to his chest and steps carefully over a path of broken glass.

"Hey," he calls out. He clears his throat. "Is someone here? I– listen, I'm not here to hurt you, I saw the blood, and I have bandages and antiseptic and everything you need. Maybe. Unless you got shot, I can't do stitches for shit, trust me." Trust the weird huge scar on his ankle.

"Listen," he continues, approaching the counter, peering behind it at a skyscraper of pizza boxes and a dust covered floor, "I know you have no reason to trust me, so I'm gonna go sit outside, and if you want to come out where I can't corner you, I'll help. I swear."

He follows the trail of blood to the cabinet under the ingredients counter. The door moves near imperceptibly.

He gives it a second, and then Eddie turns to leave.

"Wait," says a girl's voice, muffled and weak, "wait, please."

Eddie waits, spinning on his heel to watch as you push open the cabinet door.

He's surprised at the cleanliness of your top half until he realises the bottom of you might as well have been dipped in an exploded blood bank.

"Oh, shit," he says, rushing forward.

You flinch back and he follows on unperturbed, even when you throw your hands up to cover your face.

"I'm not gonna do anything," he promises, panicked, "where are you bleeding? You'll have to show me." He makes sure you can see his lack of weapons and his huge green first aid kit.

"It's my side," you say, and as soon as you speak you start to cry, little shuddering huffs of pain escaping you as Eddie kneels at your side. "I– I– I tried to climb over a fence, and I got caught on the barbed wire, I didn't– I don't–"

He shushes you with as much gentleness as he possesses and pulls up your shirt. It's your hip, not your side, and the cut is a frankly gruesome laceration into the fat. Eddie's going to have to sew you up after all.

He knows what he should do even if he's only done it once before, finding your blood covered hand on instinct and squeezing it. "It's okay," he says, not knowing if it will be, "I can fix it. I have everything, okay? Can I fix it?"

"Please," you whimper.

He doesn't need any pleading. He clicks open the first aid kit and looks first for gauze, pressing it to your side even as blood pools wet and shiny on the floor beneath you. You're in agony, clearly, twisting away from his touch.

"Please stay still," he says, firm but kind. "It'll hurt more the more you move. I have painkillers, and I'll give you some right now. Right now, okay? Stay still."

You shriek as he presses down on your hip but you don't move. He hates having hooked a sound like that from you —Eddie's not a violent person, even if he's rough around the edges— and he rushes to correct it. He swaps the soaked gauze for a second, pressing down hard again, and remembers with a white hot panic that he didn't disinfect his hands.

It's rough going. He finds the painkillers, you take them dry. He has the urge to touch your cheek because you're in so much pain, and the blood has somehow ended up on your face like a crimson tear. Eddie disinfects his hand and your hip, which still hurts wildly untouched by the painkillers, and opens a sterile packaging of needle and medical thread. His hands shake as he ties the thread with tweezers. It's imperative he doesn't touch the needle, even if he did disinfect his hands, because it will end up deep in your skin.

By the time he's ready to start the stitches you're crying and not speaking, a hand pressed to your mouth. "I don't know how much the painkillers have worked, and I don't think they'll stop this from hurting, but I think I have to stitch it before you lose too much blood. Is that okay? Can I start?" he asks.

You nod hurriedly. "Just– Don't– Just ignore me if I ask you to stop," you say weakly.

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek until he can taste blood as strongly as he smells it.

He stitches your wound closed. It's a jagged wound shaped like an italicised 'y', and he does it as carefully as he can manage, even if the amount of blood pouring from it scares him. He doesn't want to do it wrong and have the stitches rip, or cause more pain than they need too.

He never wants to hear someone make the sounds you make ever again. When he tells you it's alright, that you don't have to bite them back, you start to sob with each string he tugs. He can't imagine how fiery the pain is.

When it's done, he disinfects your hip again generously. He must not do a bad job at stitching you up, because while the wound weeps blood into the disinfectant like dye seeping into fabric, it's ten times slower. You look down at your hip, hiccup, and look away. There's blood everywhere, so Eddie pulls you by the underarms across the floor and sits you up. You're still crying, sobbing, but you don't say anything. Eddie wipes away as much blood as he can. Then he covers your newly stitched wound with a fresh, thick square of gauze and tapes it. Finally, he wraps bandages around your waist to keep everything in place, and to apply pressure to the wound.

He looks at your clammy face with a mixture of pity and newfound pride. He doesn't know who you are, but you did a damn good job.

"Well done," he says, rubbing the lengths of your arms quickly, like a hug without closing in on you. "You did awesome. I'm gonna run outside to get my stuff, I have a shirt that should fit you, and some pants. Water, food. I have whatever you need."

"A tranquilliser?" you ask.

"Maybe not one of those."

Eddie retrieves his bike and his wagon, carting them into the kitchen, through your blood trail, and into the staff room behind you. It's snug but there's a couch, and that's all that matters. He shoves the bike aside and runs back to your side, crouching. You look like you're gonna pass out.

"Hey," he says, "can I lift you up?"

"It's gonna hurt," you say.

"Yeah, but there's a couch in there, and a door that locks, I don't want us to get attacked while we can't move."

"Are you going to attack me?" you ask, looking like you want to curl up in a ball and disappear.

He shakes his head quickly. "No. I promise."

A promise from someone you don't know isn't worth much, but you take it, and Eddie helps you up and into the staff room. Your crying wanes. Maybe the painkillers are working, or maybe you've run out of steam. Acclimatised to the pain.

Eddie stops before he gets to the couch. "No funny business, I'm gonna take off your pants."

"It's okay, whatever," you gasp out. "Sit me down."

Eddie unbuttons your jeans and you kick them off the best that you can. Your legs are streaked with blood too, but at least you can sit down without absolutely ruining the couch you'll be sleeping on for the next few days. Eddie locks the door, grabs the clothes shears, and cuts off your top. You really do look at him then, your eyes wide with fear, and he backs away from you with his hands up.

"Sorry," he says, "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to scare you. You've been holding your elbow, I thought maybe you hurt that too, didn't want you to lift your arm."

Your fear ebbs with his explanation. He grabs clothes from his wagon, ears piqued when you speak up. "I think I've broken it."

"Your arm?" he asks. That's an entirely different problem. It could be painful for the rest of your life.

"My elbow. It's swollen."

"I'll give you more painkillers," he says assuringly.

He grabs the shirt that looks like it'll fit you and a pair of pants that will be too big. He doesn't know why he has all this stuff that doesn't fit him, he kinda thought they were cool. And who could abandon a Dio t-shirt when no one will ever make one ever again?

"Do you need help?" he asks.

You sigh regretfully. "I don't think I really have a choice."

"You do. We could throw a blanket over you? Two blankets, even."

"Please help me put on the t-shirt," you say.

He doesn't resent you at all for sounding untrusting, even if he did potentially save your life a few minutes ago. People are cruel and will do the worst thing they can do to another person if they want to. He helps you into the t-shirt. You flinch when you straighten out your arm, but it goes on well. Next he helps you into the cargo pants that are luckily a starchy but flexible cotton. You wince as they reach your hip. He lets them lie low.

He makes sure there's a pillow behind your head, laying his favourite blanket over you and tucking you in amicably.

Pulling his hair out of his face, Eddie laments how sweaty he is and eyes the wagon for what best to feed you with. You're probably nauseous from pain, so while he'd love to feed you hearty oxtail soup or a can of meatballs that promise protein, he grabs a box of crackers, a tin of vegetable soup that he knows from experience is watery and sad, and his big flask of water.

He sits down a half a foot from you on the couch.

"Here," Eddie says, opening the crackers. "You should eat something, please. And drink some water, too."

You accept everything silently, though after a few morose chews of saltine you murmur, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Really welcome."

"You didn't have to help me," you say, shivering with pain still but looking less like you’re going to pass out now you’ve stopped bleeding profusely.

He looks down at his hands, blood in the grooves of his palms, and shrugs. "Yeah, I did."

"Most people wouldn't, though."

"I don't think there's a precedent for what people do anymore. You're the first person I've seen in weeks."

"You're lucky."

"Yeah?" He tucks his hair behind his shoulder. "I guess I am."

You eat another cracker, and then you stick out your hand very tentatively. "I'm Y/N. Thank you for saving me."

He shakes your hand with the same tentativeness.

"I'm Eddie," he says with a smile. "You're welcome."

"I thought I was gonna die in the cabinet," you say, rubbing your eyes, "like a sick dog. I just wanted to be alone while it happened."

It's a very solemn thing to admit to, and in the quiet of the room, your face and hands dull with blood, it's macabre.

"Sorry I didn't let you die," he says, trying not to laugh in shock.

You visibly fluster, your embarrassment held tightly in the set of your shoulders and your frenetic hand as you rub your collar. "I didn't want to die. I don't want to."

"Then you won't," Eddie says, knowing it's not that simple, but needing to persuade the agony from your face.

You look down at your lap. Eddie searches for something to offer, something he can give now that you're lucid enough to know you were in the shit. It's terrifying business, knowing you could've died.

"I have a bottle of Black Coconut rum if you're interested. I thought it might come in handy lighting fires, but I think you could use it," Eddie offers.

"Yes," you say, your voice small. "I think so too."

"If we had some pineapple juice, I would love to make you a Piña Colada. Now that would cheer you up."

"Rum is fine, please."

Eddie doesn't let you suffer. He gets up to grab the rum and passes it to you. You drink it in surprisingly eager glugs, rum running down your neck in shiny rivulets like shooting stars plummeting through a vermillion sky. He needs to help you clean the blood from your throat and face before it dries.

You shudder and pass the rum bottle back to him, looking sicker than sick. "That wasn't bad," you say, eyes squeezed closed. You sound like you've been punched.

Eddie hoots a laugh. He really missed having good company.

—

thank you for reading! reblogs are appreciated, and if you have a request for this au let me know, I’d love to write more of their story!! <3

#eddie zombie!au with shy reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year

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As always, the crazy talented @tennant-the-tigger managed to activate my Munson family feels by creating this masterpiece so my hand slipped and this happened :)

When Eddie first moved into Wayne's trailer, he wouldn't smile. The boy reminded Wayne of a ghost: pale, quiet... absent. Haunted, even. The first time Wayne saw a genuine smile on his face felt like a goddamn victory. But it soon turned out to be only the beginning of the hardest part: it meant that Eddie started feeling comfortable around Wayne. And for all Eddie knew, comfort meant danger. So he started lashing out, testing Wayne's limits, taunting him day and night, strategically aiming to drive him to his breaking point, to prove that good people didn't exist, that Wayne would never love Eddie, that he would give up on him as soon as it became too much work.

And now they’re here. Wayne doesn't have a clue how they got here, how they’ve managed to make it this far together. But they did. And somewhere along that road, Eddie has decided to start trusting Wayne.

His hair is longer now, his smile has reached a whole new level of brightness; he’s growing up. Rapidly. He’s been getting himself into some shady business and Wayne doesn't feel like he’s in any position to reproach him, can only watch it happen from the sidelines. Maybe he worries too much, because those shady business have given the boy his Sweetheart and managed to amplify that beautiful bright smile of his. So Wayne got to swap a shift with Jimmy and now finds himself sitting at the bar of some shabby old cafe, hiding behind a bottle of beer with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

And seeing Eddie perform is... Well, it’s a lot. It definitely isn't the kind of music Wayne would voluntarily expose his ears to, if he had any say in the matter. But Eddie is smiling from ear to ear all through the night and that more than makes up for the noise. He has this natural kind of showmanship that Wayne can't help but admire: the band is giving the three drunks at the bar a performance like the Hideout is some concert hall filled to the brim with thousands of screaming fans.

'This one's for my uncle,' Eddie announces in between two songs, wiggling his eyebrows towards the place where Wayne is sitting. 'Thank you for coming, uncle Wayne, I love you.'

He says those words so easily, up on that stage with a lamp shining way too bright in his face. Like it comes natural to him. And Wayne can only hide his face behind his bottle, the air knocked out of his lungs by how effortless and genuine it sounds.

The band bursts out into more ear-shattering noise and just like that, the moment is over. But the feeling in Wayne's chest stays with him through the rest of the evening.

He thinks back to that one night, barely two months ago, when Eddie had been raging, calling him all kinds of names, challenging him in a way that somehow seemed more vicious than any of his previous antics.

'You tryin' to find an excuse to hate me, boy?' he had asked, exhausted and hurt but still trying to be the voice of reason because he knew that Eddie couldn't help it, not really.

And that made Eddie freeze for a moment, eyes wide, tears glistering in the trailer's flickering lamplight.

'You're the one who's gonna hate me,' Eddie told him, trying to sound defiant but failing horribly in his delivery; his voice was trembling and his lip started to wobble.

And God, Wayne can still feel how that all-encompassing fear flared up in his stomach, because what the hell could Eddie have done to believe that Wayne would ever hate him?

One deep breath had been all it took for Eddie to get back to his anger; to throw the words at Wayne's face that he'd kick Eddie out because he was a queer and wrong and bad and dirty and Wayne would hate that, would hate him.

Wayne had been stunned for a long second, completely overwhelmed by the power that Eddie was giving him by telling him that. He understood exactly the complicated mixture of self-sabotage and trust brewing inside of Eddie, because Wayne had grown up side-by-side with the cruel man who raised this scared boy in front of him.

Then, he had done something that did not come naturally to him at all: he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around him, and held his nephew even though he tried to wriggle himself free; held him when he allowed himself to melt into Wayne's arms; held him while he cried against his shoulder; held him while he told Eddie that there was nothing wrong or bad or dirty about him and that Wayne wouldn't kick him out even if he killed someone.

He blinks and comes back into the present when the last tone of the last song dies out. Eddie jumps off the stage to run up to Wayne's spot at the bar, that smile still secured on his face and his Sweetheart still cradled in his arms.

'And? What do ya think?' He’s practically bouncing with excitement and Wayne can’t help but smile; Eddie might be growing up, but he’ll never really stop being that little boy – not to Wayne, at least.

He reaches out, pulls Eddie closer to let a hand land on his shoulder and rest his chin on his fluffy curls.

He’s never been good with big words, never been good with loving out loud.

'Proud of you, Eddie,' is all he can manage to say.

But judging from the way Eddie refuses to pull away for a whole twenty seconds, it’s exactly enough.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #wayne munson my beloved #eddie munson #wayne munson #corroded coffin #fruity ficlet

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captain-mj · 4 months

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hi, i’m in desperate need of anything priceghost! my week has been honestly so bad, so i just want to ghost hurting a lil and price helping fix him up. i just love the dynamic that u made with them and the way u write them together

you obviously can just ignore this if you don’t feel like writing or don’t care for it, but have a good day regardless!

Sorry its a bit late, I haven't been in my inbox much lately! Also my internet went out half way through writing it so most of it was written on my phone 😭

Ghost grumbled a little and sighed as he got on the plane. He knew as soon as Nik saw he was hurt he'd report it to Price immediately. No matter how much Ghost told him he was fine. What a snitch.

This time though, he was pretty hurt so he couldn't be too mad at him. Price sounded worried over the comms. His voice felt like a balm though.

The moment he stepped foot on base, Price descended. He pushed Ghost forward, leading him quickly to his room instead of medical.

"You know me so well." The tight grip on his hips made me smile under his mask. "Thank you."

Price shook his head. "You need to be more careful. There's no reason you should've gotten hurt."

Ghost knew he was worried, so he didn't point out that this type of thing is inevitable regardless of how good he is. He also moved... wrong somehow and felt all of the muscles in his thigh ripple with pain from the still aching knife wound so words were escaping him.

Price had him sit on his chair in his office and he knelt down in front of him, helping him to remove his shoes.

"John..." Ghost said softly, feeling strangely out of breath from the short walk. "I can handle it myself."

Price kissed Ghost's uninjured knee and undid his belt. Any other time and Ghost would maybe throw in an inappropriate joke, but something about the way Price's eyebrows were furrowed kept him subdued. Getting his pants off was a humiliating process as now that there was no adrenaline pumping through him, he found it hard to stand up.

He managed. Refusing to just lift his hips and shimmy out of them. His flop back down was less than graceful and hurt but he had a tiny bit of his dignity left.

Price found his emergency med kit, complete with a little bit of bourbon for Ghost to drink instead of pain meds. Ghost didn't like taking them, always worried he'd get addicted, and Price had learned a long time ago that there was no convincing him otherwise.

"Gonna be a good boy for me, right Simon?"

"Fuck off." Ghost growled, feeling a ripple of genuine nausea from the pain run through him. It felt like with every passing moment, it got worse rather than better.

And then aftershave and cigars filled his nose. Stubble pressed against his cheek even through the mask. "Hey, Simon. I got you. Alright?"

Ghost softened. "Yeah. You got me." He rubbed back quietly and his eyes closed.

The routine of stitching his wounds and bandaging him was not something Ghost stayed present for. He tried. Really. If he dissociated too long, Price would get concerned.

Before long, Price’s soft hands were patting his face. “All done.”

Simon pressed into his hands, eyes slowly opening. “John…”

The mask was lifted up and then set to the side. “Hello sunshine.”

He laughed softly and then tilted his head up to kiss John properly. His hands settled on his waist and then he pulled him down with him. They pressed against each other and it felt.. Nice.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Simon.”

#call of duty #cod #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #captain john price #priceghost #ghostprice

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

Layla

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: oops (fic named after this song)

Summary: Nothing good ever happens on an LA road [2.3k]

Warnings: NOTHING SUPER GORY, car crash, injuries, hospital setting, found family but make it angsty

When you first moved to LA, you and Ryan would drive around for hours, just talking and taking in the sights. Normally, you'd end up sitting somewhere and gossiping about this actor or that producer for hours. But, with each of your busy schedules, it's a little harder to find time to just be friends instead of coworkers. That's why when you both had a free day, you decided to drive around and update him on everything that's been going on. You tell him about the auditions you have lined up, the reshoot schedule, and even what happened during and after New York.

"You met his kids?!" Ryan half-yells in your ear, and you smile as you turn on your blinker to get off the freeway. "That's huge! Did they like you? How old are they? What are their names? Do they want to be friends with Elizabeth?"

"Sarah is eighteen, and Ellie is fourteen, so I don't think they'll be particularly interested in hanging out with your toddler." You say, and he feigns disappointment before sitting up again, suddenly giddy.

"But they liked you?"

"I think so. They invited me to their family movie night on Friday."

"They as in the girls?"

"We're in a group chat. Ellie's idea, not mine."

"No shit?" He asks, and you nod. You stop at a red light and turn in the driver's seat to look at him. You can't help the big smile or how it grows when Ryan looks at you all excitedly. "Is Joel just head over heels in love with you now that his daughters like you?" You scoff and roll your eyes.

"It's only been a few months. He's not in love with me."

"I knew I was gonna marry Carolina on our third date."

"Well, that's because you guys are crazy."

"And you think you and Joel are sane?" He has a point, but you'd never tell him he's right. "But, seriously. Do you see yourself being with him for a while?" He asks, and you turn your head to watch the red light turn green.

Before you got to know him, before you went to New York, before he introduced you to his family, you would've said no. You would've made up some lie about how it's just for now, and neither of you is really looking for anything serious. But now he's inviting you over for movie nights and late-night studio sessions like this is how it's always been, and you like it. You like being a part of his life and having him in yours. You just don't know what that means for the future.

"We're just… having fun. I'm not worrying about the future for once in my life. Can you please let me have that?" You sigh, and Ryan throws up his hands from the passenger seat.

"Fine, but I will say one more thing before we drop it," he says, looking at you sincerely. "You seem really happy. Like the happiest I've ever seen you. So, I'm Team Joel, as long as you are. I'll make t-shirts and cheer you guys on, and when the time comes, I'll even officiate the wedding."

"I don't know about the wedding part, but t-shirts would actually be hilarious," you laugh, even though the genuineness in his voice makes you want to cry. You reach over and squeeze his hand. "Thank you, Ryan."

"You're welcome," he squeezes you back. "Now that we're done talking about your love life, can I tell you what Elizabeth said the other day?"

"I wish you would." You say as the light turns green and cars slowly begin moving. Ryan begins spinning an elaborate story about how Carolina's dad was visiting last week, and they were playing in the playroom. You swear you're listening, but traffic is backing up in your lane, and you're desperately trying to get over. Thankfully, someone lets you in, and you can finally go the speed limit for once. Ryan is laughing at his story, and you're tuned back in when he gets cut off by metal crunching.

You don't know exactly what happened after that. You think you saw a black— no, a blue— car sputtering away after hitting you. Your ears ring, and your vision blurs as you struggle to breathe. It feels like someone is squeezing your lungs like a stress ball. Pricks of pain erupt across your face and thighs as your eyes flutter shut. Your head weighs a million pounds, and all you want to do is sleep, but then you hear groaning, and you suddenly remember Ryan.

Something takes over as you look at him, glass and blood all over his body. You unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car on shaky legs to run to his side, the side hit by the speeding car. The door is partially dented in, but you're able to open it and see his chest rising and falling. You curse under your breath as you apply pressure to the gnarly-looking cut on his head. He jerks under your touch, and you shush him gently. Distantly, you hear sirens and pray that they're for you.

"Hey. Hey, you're okay. You're fine. We're okay," you say. His eyes open halfway before dropping down again. "No, no, no. Hey, you gotta stay awake for me, okay? You gotta finish telling me your story about Bethy. What did she say? You didn't tell me."

"Are you okay? We called 911, and..." a kind voice approaches, making you jump. You turn to look at her and watch a flicker of recognition pass over her. "Holy shit, you're-"

"He needs help," you cut her off. "Please, can you help him? I... I don't know what to do. The c...car came out of nowhere, and he..." The asphalt sways under you, and she quickly reaches out to grab your elbow. You shake your head and grip the mangled door for balance. It's then that you realize that your car is stopped in the middle of the intersection, with broken glass and car parts littering the road. You also realize that bystanders surround you, their beady camera lenses pointed at you. A shudder runs down your spine despite the California heat, and something in your side twinges in pain.

"You need to be sitting down." The woman tries to pull you away from Ryan, but you rip your arm away from her. You position your body between his and the cameras, bending over him to protect his bloody face.

"No. No, 'm fine. Need to be with him."

"Honey,"

"I said no!" You yell as an ambulance squeals to a stop nearby, and paramedics rush out.

"Are you hurt?" A paramedic asks, medical gear slung over her shoulder as she approaches.

"I think he hit his head. I don't... know. He's bleeding." You say, and the paramedic nods. You think she says something to the kind woman about shock, but you can't hear over all the blood. It's on your hands, your clothes, and in your hair. The dark red is suffocating you, and all you can do is watch.

Ringing takes over your senses as they cut Ryan out of his seat and put him on a stretcher. You repeat Carolina's phone number over and over again. You tell them his blood type, the dosage of his anti-depressants, and his bad knee. The left one. The left one gives him the most trouble. The left one pops when he stands too fast or walks upstairs. He needs surgery, but he won't get it. You tell them he's a father. You tell them that there are people who need him a lot more than they need you. Your legs give out as soon as he's loaded into the ambulance and sent away with shrieking sirens. Someone catches you before you can hit the pavement, and you can feel yourself shaking.

"Your friend is gonna be okay. We're gonna meet him at the hospital. Is there someone I can call for you? An emergency contact?" A medic asks, and you shake your head.

"That was my emergency contact. I... I don't have anyone else. I don't," your chest heaves with panic when a set of numbers flashes in your head next to Carolina's phone number. You repeat to the medic, and they quickly scribble it down. "His name is Joel."

"And who's he?"

"My partner."

Your body feels heavy when you wake up, like someone tied cinderblocks to your joints and told you to swim. Ringing fills your ears before giving way to a cloud of painful noise, and for a second, you wonder if the car crash was just a dream and when you open your eyes, you'll be back in bed. You'll text Ryan about how weird it was and make plans to hang out later in the day. Except, when you open your eyes, harsh fluorescent lights shine down on you. Your face pulses with an unrelenting throbbing. Pressure explodes across your temples, and you grit your teeth as you try to take a deep breath, but your ribs protest. A gentle squeeze of your hand surprises you, but it doesn't hurt.

"Don't move too fast. Doctors said you'd be sore," Joel says quietly. You slowly turn your head and find him sitting in a chair next to your bed, both of his hands holding one of yours. Tears immediately flood your vision, and your chest aches under the weight of your cries. "What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

"'Ryan. Where's Ryan? Is he okay?" It hurts to talk, and Joel has to move closer to hear you, but once he realizes what you're asking, he kisses your hand.

"Ryan's next door with Carolina. He's got some bumps and bruises like you, but he's gonna be just fine," he says, reaching out to smooth your hair down, and you let out a sigh of relief. "You were the first thing he asked about when he woke up, too."

"Really?" You ask, and he smiles.

"Course. Said he could hear you the whole time, but he couldn't say anythin'. He told me that knowin' you were there made him feel safe."

"I... I told the paramedics about his knee." You sniffle, and he raises his eyebrows.

"You did?"

"His left one is bad. They needed to know. I had to tell them."

"You did great," he murmurs, wiping your tears away with gentle thumbstrokes. You take a shaky breath and focus all your strength on squeezing his hand. He smiles and kisses your forehead, his eyes glistening with tears. "You scared me."

"'M sorry. I didn't know who else to call."

"Hey, don't be sorry, okay? You did the right thing tellin' 'em to call me. I was scared because you were hurt."

"What's the damage?" You ask, and he takes a deep breath as his eyes scan your face.

"You've got a concussion and bout seven stitches on the side of your face here," he traces a line over his left eyebrow to show where he's indicating without hurting you. "Three cracked ribs and two broken ones from hittin' the steering wheel, some cuts from the glass, and lots of bumps and bruises." You nod as you listen, taking a mental inventory of everything. He watches you process silently, pressing kisses to your hand, forehead, and cheek whenever he gets the urge. Memories of blood, warped metal, and phone cameras run through your mind, and you swallow thickly.

"People were taking pictures of us after we got hit." You say, and Joel nods.

"I saw 'em."

"Out of all those people, one stopped to help us," your voice cracks. "I thought Ryan was gonna die, and they were fucking taking pictures."

"He didn't. He's safe. You're both safe, and Mel is already workin' on gettin' those pictures taken down, okay?" He says. You just nod and wrap your other hand around Joel's wrist, bringing your joined hands to your chest. You stay like that for a while, listening to the incessant beeping of your heart monitor and Joel's breathing. He doesn't rush you or make you talk anymore. He waits.

It would've been so easy for Joel to not show up. Or to show up, focus only on you, and completely forget about Ryan and Carolina. But he didn't. He knew how much they mean to you. He showed up, and he visited them, and was there when he woke up. He talked to Melanie about getting the photos from the accident taken down. He held your hand and said you did the right thing and didn't flinch when he saw your bruises. I'm Team Joel, as long as you are, echoes in your mind, and you smile.

"Thank you," you mumble as you kiss Joel's hand.

"For what?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"Bein' you."

"You're gettin' sweet on me, pretty girl."

"Mm, I don't know about that one," you say. "Think people will still wanna cast me with a big ass scar on my forehead?" Joel nods as he leans down to kiss you gently.

"Oh, yeah. 'S sexy." He says against your lips, and you chuckle.

"Shut up."

"Yes, ma'am," A wave of fatigue hits you as Joel settles in his chair again, and you yawn. "Get some rest. I'm not goin' anywhere." He squeezes your hand again, and you close your eyes, letting the pain meds drag you under again.

You don't remember what you dreamt about that night in the hospital, but you remember blood washing down the drain. It wouldn't stop. There was so much. You remember thinking the blood on your hands almost looked sparkly as camera shutters reflected in the red. Everything looks prettier on camera, right?

Right?

#one for the money two for the show #rockstar!joel miller #rockstar!joel #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #the last of us au #tlou au

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Love You Through It (Dad!Eddie x Mom Reader)

Summary: When you're struggling with postpartum depression, Eddie brings in some help. Just a little blurb.

Warnings: depression, anxiety, mention of pregnancy, Stancy is canon

WC: 915

A/N: I've struggled with depression, but not PPD. I tried to draw on my own experiences and what I've heard from others, and I hope I did this request justice.

On a Sunday morning, you wake up to the sound of Eddie's voice crackling through the baby monitor.

"Good morning, Melly Bean! Today's gonna be a beautiful day," he coos. You want to smile, soak in the way your husband dotes on your two-month-old daughter, but you just can't. It feels like there's something blocking you from feeling happy.

You roll over in bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. Eddie's baby talk fades from the monitor but gets closer to your bedroom door.

"You wanna go see Mommy? Show her how much you love her?" he asks, even pausing as if Melody can give an answer.

"Hi Mama Munson," Eddie calls to you from the doorway. "Someone wants to say 'good morning.'" His sweet smile morphs into a frown when he sees you burrowed into the blankets. "Sweetheart? What's going on?"

"Nothing," you insist, voice muffled by the layers covering you. "Just wanna sleep."

Eddie looks at you, concern evident all over his face. "Okay, love," he says finally, "we'll be in the living room if you need us."

You wait until after he closes the door to sob into your pillow.

"Hello?" Steve answers the phone groggily, glancing at the time. Only 7:30 AM; who could be calling at this hour?

"Harrington," Eddie''s visibly relieved by the sound of his friend's voice. "There's something wrong with Y/N."

Steve sits up immediately at this news. "What do you mean?" he asks, panicked. "Does she need to go to the hospital?" Eddie hears Nancy's quiet voice, and Steve repeats what Eddie just told him.

"I don't--I don't know if you go to the hospital for this," Eddie tells him. "She stays in bed all the time, she doesn't want to be with the baby, she barely eats..."

Nancy takes the receiver from her husband. "Eddie?" she says. "Hon, that sounds like postpartum depression."

Eddie's eyes widen. "What do I do? I've been trying to handle everything but I'm just so...tired," he admits. "It's a lot, but I don't want to make her feel worse."

"I'm coming over," Nancy says, throwing off her covers. "Give me half an hour, okay?"

Eddie nods before realizing she can't see him. "Thanks, Nance," he whispers.

Your bedroom door is nudged open, but instead of Eddie, Nancy's standing there.

"Can I come in?" she asks, and you nod slowly. It seems like everything is happening in slow motion these days.

She takes a seat next to you on the edge of the bed. "Eddie called us," she explains softly, rubbing your back. "He's worried about you, babe. We all are."

"'M fine," you lie, but it's no use trying to pull one over on Nancy.

"No," she shakes her head, "you're not. You should talk to your doctor, but I think you have postpartum depression."

"But how?" you cry out, voice catching in your throat. "I'd get it if I was alone, or there was something wrong with Melody, or the delivery..." You start to cry again, and you're genuinely shocked that you haven't dehydrated from all the tears you've shed. "But Eddie has been amazing, and the baby is happy and healthy, and my delivery was fine."

Nancy offers a small smile. "Unfortunately, it doesn't always work like that," she says. "It can happen to any new mommy, regardless of the circumstances."

"Nance, I feel so guilty all the time," you confide in a hushed whisper. "I want to do more, but it's like my brain and my body won't cooperate. And then it all falls on Eddie, which makes me feel even worse. Like..." you pause before allowing the truth to spill out, "like I'm failing at being a mom."

Your friend squeezes your arm gently. "You are not a failure," she reassures you. "We're gonna help you get through this, okay? This isn't your fault. If anything, it's Eddie's fault for getting you pregnant in the first place." she says with a giggle.

"I heard that!" Eddie calls out, peeking his head into the doorway. Nancy stands up when he comes in.

"You two get some rest, and I'll make some breakfast." She scoops up the baby monitor on her way out. "Don't worry about Melody; I'll take care of her if she needs me."

Eddie snuggles into bed behind to you and presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck. "You know I adore you, right?"

"Of course," you reply. "I'm sorry I haven't been showing you how much I adore you, Eds."

"My love, you carried our perfect daughter for nine months. What else can I ask for?"

"I don't know," you reply tersely, "maybe a wife who can take care of her baby, who can take care of herself?"

"And you will," he tells you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you impossibly close. "But right now, we're gonna sleep. And when we wake up, Nancy is gonna help us find someone you can talk to. Like a therapist or something," he clarifies.

You take his hand and kiss it. "Do you think Melody hates me?" you whisper.

"Hates you? Oh, baby, absolutely not," Eddie gives a little laugh. "She loves her mommy. And she knows how much I love you, too."

"And how much is that?" you tease, snuggling into him.

Eddie's peppering kisses all over your face, his curly hair and hint of stubble tickling your cheeks.

"Does that answer your question?"

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somelonelywriter · 1 year

Note

Can I request a Leto!Joker where I have powers (telekinesis) and save J from someone who wants to hurt him but I over use them which causes me to pass out but he catches me in his arms and he carries me to our shared room and he starts to panic about what happened and he stays with me until I wake up (you can add the rest) (we are husband and wife) thank u :)

VOICES

Pairing: Husband!Jared!Joker x Wife!Fem!reader

(i used she/her pronouns since you said wife, but if you want me to change them tell me, also it's just a one shot I'm sorry, let me know if you wanted headcanons or something else).

Warnings: use of pet names, light swearing, fainting, mention of guns/weapons, mention of Batman, mention/description of blood, mention of death, mention being worried about someone well being (does that really need a warning(?)), Hurt/comfort, tiny bit of toxic relationship and as usual Joker is his own warning, let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: Batman almost catches your husband, almost is the key word.

A/n: I'm sorry this took me so long. AHHHH im SO excited! My first request!! I'll try my best, and i hope you don't mind the fact that i made it start in the car like the scene in 'Suicide Squad', feel free to critizice (obv in a constructive way). Let me know if there are any grammatical errors. Enjoy!

Not really proofreaded 😅

Faster.

That was the only thing in your mind as your husband drived the purple Lamborghini on the road.

You needed to get that stupid bat off of your car. "He's gonna ruin our date night!" You screamed, your anniversary night was gonna be ruined and it was all his fault! You pointed your gun at the ceilieng of the car and fired at it a couple of times, letting your anger out.

The joker near you laughed, a stressed laugh. You knew what that meant. Sooner or later something, or worst someone will blow up.

So you decided to take care of the situation in an even more aggressive way. It was risky to say the least, but extreme problems require extreme solutions, and oh if Batman was a fucking problem.

So you taked a deep breath and cleared your mind (as much as you could with the Clown losing the last bit of sanity he had in the driver seat) and visualized the annoying bat being throwed under your car.

Suddendly all the noises stopped, then a loud 'bang' could be heard and you saw Batman flying rigth on the car windscreen leaking blood over it.

You did it!!

Joker clapped his hands "My good Darling! He got what he deserved! Death to the bat! Death to the bat!" He singed sang, but it sounded muffled, oh so muffled...

The only thing on your mind was a drop. 'tic tic tic' (a/n: does this make sense?)

You looked down and saw your hands covered in blood, your nose was bleesdng... Your eyes felt heavy, the last thing you heard was your name, Joker was calling you. Then it all went black.

Joker on the other hand did not excpect you to faint. It was unplanned, and he even if he loved surprises he didn't love having you in this state.

If we're being honest, at first he was tempted to leave you there (a/n: for me the story finishes like this :) but a request is a request lol) but then a voice, one of the too many in his head, told him not to do it, that he needed you, even if he didn't really know for what... So he drived to his mansion, every now and then checking on you.

Once in your shared bedroom he layed you on the bed.

Joker started to genuinely feel concerned for you, almost an hour as passed and you still weren't awake.. His pretty toy can't die, not if he doesn't want she to do so at least.

He then decided to lay down near you, for the first time in his life he felt a little scared, the voices in his head getting loud, he could hear them scream, scream that you had to wake up, that you couldn't leave him, that he-

He suddendly turned his head to look at his pet, who had now opened her eyes.

you tried to talk but he stopped you, he just wanted to held you on his chest. You didn't dare to discontent him by moving. Not wanting to miss the chance to have some affection since he rarely initiated it, you ignored your headache and relaxed into his touch.

Ironically the place where you felt the most safe were the place where everyone else felt the most scared.

#batman #jared leto #dc joker #one shot #Fluff #Jared Joker #X reader #dcmultiverse #suicide squad #the suicide squad #harley quinzel #harley quinn #wife reader #fem reader

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lina-lovebug · 1 year

Text

Bleeding Hearts

Part 13

Taglist: @silverhowe @happycupcakeenthusiast @vampire-hunter @simpforavillain @dumb-fawkin-bitch @mushroomlover13 @kimqueenofhell @vane28282 @namor-is-the-way @daaiissyyyyy @anyzandy @pturnersblog @cherrychupachup @blossom618 @bxnnywriting @neteyamsbulletwound @fabulousarminsimp @proper-idiocy @esposadomd @txmbstone

Now this was home.

The screeches and howls coming from above made my heart feel at ease. The familiar rocks and dirt beneath my feet, and the feeling of the wind running through my hair and whipping my face brought a small smile to my lips.

“Come on! Keep up, losers!” Spider cackled, having fun as the rest struggled to climb as naturally as us.

“Can the big bad Colonel Miles Quaritch not climb a rock?” I taunted, my fangs portruding as I grinned.

“Oh just you wait, cupcake. You ain’t seen nothing yet,” He grunted, and lost his footing. My hands reached out, gripping his forearm and helping him up.

“I highly doubt that,” I smirked, following Spider and ignoring the rest of the struggling demons.

I just hope Zephyr is alright.

Zephyr, my beautiful Ikran, was much larger than the others. That is the result of her being the rarity between a normal Ikran and Toruk. She’s beautiful with her red wings and large horn on her temple, and I am glad she chose me.

My only worry is that she would be anxious without me. I claimed her when I was only eight, since I did not wish to wait for my time to claim an Ikran for myself.

“Jesus Christ, they’re fucking loud,” Miles Quaritch groaned, having caught up to us.

“Only because you have baby ears.”

His head whipped to face me, “what did you say?”

“Baby ears,” I touched his ear, “it is smaller than most males this age. It is a dead giveaway that you are not Na’vi.”

They folded downwards and I laughed.

“I-I am sorry,” I laughed, covering my mouth.

“Mom! Come on!” Spider called out, and I followed the sound of his voice through the caves until the screeching got louder and louder.

A genuine grin crossed my face as I breathed in the air and my face hit the blinding sun. All around me are thousands of Ikran, none yet claimed, but the smile fell as I heard a gun click.

“I got this,” It was a tranquilzer bullet.

As Miles Quaritch took aim, Spider chuckled.

“What?”

“Na’vi kids younger than me do this with their bare hands,” Spider explained.

“Jake Sully did it the hard way?” He questioned.

“What do you think?” He retorted.

He looked hesitant, but set down the gun.

“How do you get one?” He asked me and I moved forward, grabbing my own queue.

“You grab yours and connect them, just like you would do with the horses. They will try to bite, so-”

“Got it,” He walked off.

“Skxawng,” I muttered under my breath.

“This is gonna be good,” Spider smirked.

“Move up,” Corporal pressed his gun into my back, and I moved forward. Immediately, an Ikran had taken a liking to him by hissing and presenting his fangs.

“It's you and me, Cupcake,” Miles Quaritch smirked.

It hissed once again, and he hissed back.

And punched it.

I blinked, never having seen that before, and he ran around it to have a chance by jumping onto it. It hissed, trying to throw him off, even by slamming its body into the rock and he hit his head.

“You were supposed to tie its mouth!” I shouted.

“Thanks a lot!”

His hands were gripped tightly onto it, and the creature saw that he would not give up so easily.

And flew off.

“Quaritch!” I shouted, my heart racing as I ran forward and bent down to look for him. But they either both fell or he did and it flew away.

“Fuck!”

“This is your fault!” The female hissed at me.

“Hey, let's calm down,” Corporal insisted.

“No! She told him about them! She knew he would die!”

Before I could even get a word out, I felt a sudden stinging sensation. It coursed through my entire body, starting from my neck.

“Ah!” I yelled out, collapsing in pain.

“Worthless bitch!” She kicked my face.

“Don’t touch her!” Spider shouted.

“That is enough!” He shoved her away and my ears perked up at the sound of yelling.

From Quaritch.

“Woohoo! That’s right!” He actually did it. He made the bond, effectively taming his own Ikran.

“Congratulations,” I gave a lazy smile, getting up but staggering. Spider helped me stay up, asking if I was okay and I nodded.

I did not need him to worry about me.

What I did not notice was the worry on Quaritchs’ face and how he noticed the remote in the female's hand.

#avatar the way of water imagine #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #miles quaritch #na'vi quaritch #the way of water

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kissproof · 2 years

Note

You’ve made my day responding so fast!! I want something like, you’re Sam’s new girl after splitting with ginger and everything has his the fan and he’s worried you’re going to bail now that he’s out of the casino business but you’re in it for the long haul and move with him to California and start a life and now I’m rambling but something like that!! Throw in a baby surprise if you want! I’m just ecstatic you responded

thank you for your request lovely! 🥺 it’s a really short snippet as opposed to something longer but i hope you enjoy it even so!

SUMMARY: a bit of morning consolation to start ace’s day right <3

WARNINGS: none

ace had just lit his cigarette when you came into the kitchen that morning, sunlight pouring into the space like the sky had spilled its fresh glass of orange juice on the counter. you felt his shoulders as you passed by him, leaning in to meet his lips in a quick kiss between puffs.

“good morning, handsome,” you sigh, a soft joyfulness behind your voice. your hands immediately start working on a breakfast for yourself, something light. cornflakes, a glass of apple juice, some berries perhaps. ace still puffs at his cigarette behind you, not saying a word.

sometimes you wonder if, when he sits here like this all silent and mellowed out, he thinks about what this kitchen was like when she had still walked around it. kissed him good morning, served his bacon and eggs, answered his phone.

his eyes flicker to and away from you when you do sit across from him. you catch him after a few glances had gone by and tilt your head.

“what?”

“nothin’,” he replies quickly. “nothin’.”

“i know you. that look isn’t nothin’.”

he purses his lips and demolishes his stub in the ashtray between you. his eyes look so sad.

“you uh… you… you gonna go back to your mother’s?”

puzzled, you drop your spoon in what’s left of your tiny islands of milk and flakes. “no. why would i do that?”

a pitiful smile peeks out from beneath his long face. “‘cause i’m uh… i’m sort of a nobody now…”

you immediately reach your hand to cover his on the table, squeezing with a loving urgency. “that is completely ridiculous and you know it. i’m not here for the casinos, the money. i’m here for you, ace. i’m all yours.”

he flips his hand to lock it with yours, thumbing your knuckles with silent gratitude. he pauses for a long while, just admiring how perfectly your hand fits in his. then his eyes flick up to you again.

“will you… will you come to california with me?”

your face immediately alights at his request.

“baby, i’ll go anywhere… anywhere in the world if it means i’ll be with you.”

“i love you, darling,” he says with a sudden, genuine passion before meeting you across the island to kiss you deeply, “so, so much.”

#i just know y/n has the most fabulous pajamas on at all times #can you imagine??#sunshine yellow matching set #all silky with like bright yellow or red accents along the sleeves and collar #gosh ace would have you so right!!!#anon #answered #ace rothstein #sam ace rothstein #sam rothstein #casino #casino 1995 #x reader #robert de niro #kissproof drabbles

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elizabeethan · 2 years

Text

look in the mirror (and cry)

Part 3 / 5

Summary: Chrissy survives Vecna’s first attack, just barely.

Season 4 rewrite wherein Chrissy survives and Eddie is a soft worried angel

Author’s Note: TIME FOR FLUFF. if this turns into 6 chapters don't hurt me.

Rated M

Read on Ao3

Read my Other Things

Get added to my Hellcheer fic tag list

Tagging: @sotangledupinit @klauscarolove @itsfabianadocarmo

~~~~

It’s decided that she’s a sitting duck.

Max survives an attack, just barely making it out with the help of Kate Bush. Dustin says that she falls to the ground and it sounds just like what happened to Chrissy, only none of her limbs were snapped. She told them all what she saw, and it sounds eerily similar to what Nancy reported Chrissy describing to her.

It feels like only a matter of time, somehow. It feels like Chrissy isn’t safe no matter where she is, but especially in the house that haunted her visions of Vecna as he tried to curse her. It can’t be a good idea to let her go back there, right? Couldn’t he use that as a weakness somehow? If he’s in the Upside Down, couldn’t he find her in that version of their dimension and curse her again?

For some reason, everyone agrees with him. He really didn’t see that coming.

It’s like a sting operation. At first they tell him that he shouldn’t come, but he very forcefully and almost violently insists, and for some reason, they agree again, more reluctantly this time.

He’s still kind of a fugitive so he hides in the back of Steve Harrington’s car, shoved against the seat and covered with a blanket, and wishes that he hadn’t ditched his van. It’s much roomier.

He wishes more than anything that he could be the one to climb to her window once the light goes on, but it makes sense for Max to do it. Along with her Kate Bush tape, she lithely climbs to the roof beneath Chrissy’s bedroom window and knocks, somehow convincing her to come to the car with a bag of clothes in far less time than he expected.

He can’t really see much of her, the blanket obscuring his vision, but still, he can see the giant, heavy plaster covering her arm from her knuckles up to her underarm. It’s held close to her with a black sling which he assumes assists in keeping her shattered arm immobile and safe.

She lets out a tiny giggle, one that he wouldn’t expect from her after everything she’s been through, and he can feel her leaning forward towards him, the dainty fingers of her right hand lifting the blanket from over his head and exposing his eyes. Her smile beams down at him, and although it’s smaller and sadder than it has been, it’s genuine.

“Hi,” she whispers, her fingers playing with the hem of the blanket just by his chin. “Max said you were gonna be down there.”

“Hey,” he laughs breathlessly. “I, uh, yeah. Hiding.”

“Smooth,” he hears from the front seat, and if he could reach Robin with his elbow, he’d send it into her ribs.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” she says softly, voice sweet and tender in a way that makes him want to pull her into his arms and hold her there for as long as he can.

“Of course,” he whispers back, and in a moment of boldness, he moves his hidden hand and brushes her fingers with his. He wants to tell her, I'll always be here for you, or maybe, I'll never leave you again, but they both feel too… intimate, he supposes. At least for the full car. So he settles again for, “Of course.”

Reefer Rick’s been in jail for a couple months, and he’s expected to stay there for a few months more, so his place is empty. At first, he was too nervous to break into the house, settling for the boathouse, but then he spent the night throwing up in there, and Steve shoved an oar into his ribs a couple of times, after he witnessed the almost-death of his… friend… and he decided that he could use a little comfort. He deserves to sleep on a couch instead of a damp, smelly dock.

So when they get to the main house, he lets himself take a deep breath, lets himself settle just a bit as he searches through the kitchen for something to eat. “You like Spaghettios?” he calls into the living room where Chrissy stands stiffly, staring at Rick’s bookshelf with her right hand extended towards the spines.

“I don’t know,” she calls back, and he gasps dramatically.

“Chrissy Cunningham!” he shouts. “I’m about to rock your world.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. But she giggles again.

~~~~

Her mother doesn’t think she should be listening to loud music that can rot her brain. She hated the Walkman when she saw it, cringing and asking what she could possibly want with something that would play the horrid music directly into her ear drums, wondering where she even got it, but Chrissy only supplied a soft smile accompanied by a shrug as she pulled the headphones onto her ears.

The tape he made her has been playing constantly for a week now. She never thought she would get sick of this song, but it is getting a bit old by this point. Still, though, as she pokes through Reefer Rick’s house while Eddie makes some kind of canned catastrophe, she comes across his small collection of things lying on the checkered couch. And she noticed his own Walkman. And she opens it up and–

QUEEN – Somebody to Love.

“Dinner!” he calls theatrically, making her jump and anxiously force the top shut again. “You okay?”

He looks her up and down as he holds two white bowls with spoons sticking out, his hen-covered apron making her smile, and it’s reminiscent of that time a few weeks ago in the woods, the first time she saw those spiders crawling out of the clock face. She kind of likes the way he approaches her so playfully and immediately shifts into this serious, concerned demeanor when he sees her startling.

“Sorry,” she says quietly, offering him a small, disingenuous smile. “I didn’t–”

“Hey, you’re okay,” he tells her, and it feels different somehow. He didn’t just tell her that it’s okay, that it’s okay that she was touching his private stuff, that it’s okay that she’s so jumpy and annoying. He tells her that she’s okay. She’s here, she’s welcome, she’s alive and in one piece, technically, she’s safe.

She’s safe. She’s safe with him.

And because she knows she’s safe, she figures it’s also safe to lighten up and seek a little clarification as she gestures down to the Walkman. “Is this a backup? In case mine gets wrecked or something?”

His wide smile falters for a second before he plasters it back on, more forced this time, and walks to the couch adjacent to the one she stands by. “Sure,” he says, his voice enthusiastic but hesitant, somehow. “Come sit? I know Spaghettios probably isn’t the gourmet you’re used to at the Cunningham estate, but it’s gotta be better than the green Jell-o the hospital was giving you.”

That’s probably true, she thinks, so she obliges and sits beside him, not too close, but close enough so that it’s safe for her to take the hot bowl with her unbroken arm and rest it on her lap. “Thanks,” she murmurs softly.

“Hang on a second,” he encourages quietly, suddenly deep in thought as he stands, removing the apron and then walking towards the bookshelf she was just near. He takes a large hardcover book off the shelf, reads the cover– “Animal Farm,” he cringes– and walks it back over to her, lifting her bowl and placing the book down on her lap. “There ya go. Your own little TV Dinner table.”

With a soft giggle, she thanks him again, reaching for the spoon with a tiny smile as she watches him do the same. The spaghetti and tiny meatballs are surprisingly good, and she finds herself scarfing the dinner down without even thinking about the calories that have to be involved with something that doesn’t taste like paper.

She jumps again when the tape runs out, moving to reset it, but Eddie’s hand stops her so she meets his eyes. They’re deep and dark, wide and curious and caring as they gaze into her own, and she can’t help but to let her lips turn up slightly, her head tilting to the side in curiosity. “Do I finally get a break?”

“I thought you liked that song?” he asks with a soft laugh as he takes the headphones from around her neck.

“It’s my favorite. But I've heard it, like, two thousand times this week alone.”

“Right,” he chuckles as he stands up. “That’s why I figured we could try something else. We don’t know if you’re allowed to listen to other songs so we won't risk that,” he explains, walking back towards the shelf and fiddling with the old looking record player that sits one shelf up from the floor. “And I’m not gonna be one of those asshole douchebags who insists that you need to listen to the music the way it was meant to be heard,” he continues, his voice changing to a cloying, annoying mimicking tone that makes her laugh. “But I feel like it’ll sound different coming from the record through the speakers.”

With a giggle, she says, “Okay, let’s try it.”

It does sound a bit different, more crisp, or something, and she smiles as she sits down and notes the way that he closes his eyes passionately and dramatically, making a fist as he silently sings along into a fake microphone. “You’re crazy,” she laughs, and he looks at her with false incredulity, pretending his feelings are hurt by her claim.

“How dare you?” he asks during an instrumental break, careful not to interrupt his lip syncing.

“You’re not even singing!”

“I can hit these notes, Cunningham. I just didn’t want to make you jealous.”

With a hearty laugh, she assures him, “I wouldn’t get jealous; I'd give you a round of applause.”

As if just on time, he joins in with his own vocals, almost expertly meeting Freddie Mercury note for note with just as much charisma. He takes her bowl as he continues on with the second verse, placing it on the coffee table before them and taking her hand as he carefully lifts her into a standing position.

With laughter in her lungs and her throat and her heart, spilling from her mouth and from her eyes as happy tears poke against them, genuine joy hitting her for the first time since she can remember, she isn’t even embarrassed as she joins in with the backup vocals, accompanying his dramatic performance with ease and earning an excited grin from him.

He dances with her carefully yet playfully, still loudly singing along but missing a few notes as his laughter interrupts. He spins her, he holds her unbroken hand as he jumps up onto the couch, dropping it to mime the guitar solo. He starts jumping on the couch as the melody builds up, and she almost cries with laughter, her stomach hurting from the use of a group of muscles she hasn’t worked in such a long time. His voice squeaks out, almost hitting the highest note but missing as he cuts himself off and doubles over laughing, jumping down from the couch and taking her hand again as the melodic flow of the song settles her heart. His other hand wipes away a tear and then, before either of them know what’s happening, she’s leaning against his chest with her cast between them and her other arm around his waist, both of his arms holding her closely, his chin resting on the top of her head as they sway together.

And it's the most romantic thing she’s ever experienced.

He’s humming still, as the song starts to come to a close, his throat vibrating against her nose, and she wants to press her lips against his chest. She knows he was only kidding, making a scene to make her laugh, and even though he couldn’t hit all the notes, his voice was stunning. Her heart is calm for the first time in a long time, her fingers have stopped shaking, her eyes are closed as the song plays through.

“You’re a regular groupie, Christina Cunningham.”

She smiles wholeheartedly, letting out a soft, contented sigh. “You’re a regular rockstar, Edward Munson.”

“I’m a metalhead,” he defends, and she shrugs. With a chuckle, he says, “And my name isn’t Edward.”

“What is it?” she asks softly. Although the song has started again, she still doesn’t want to interrupt this.

“Edmund,” he tells her, almost shy.

“Edmund,” she repeats gently. “Well, Edmund, my name isn’t Christina.”

“Agh,” he curses, moving his hand from her back to snap in disappointment before placing it right back where it was, much to her satisfaction. “What is it?”

“Christine.”

“I had a 50/50 shot.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be gambling,” she jokes, and he tickles her ribs softly and she swears she feels his lips doing something when she giggles and squirms before settling against him again.

He holds her, swaying with her as the song runs through again, and then once more. He sings quietly about wanting to get out of this prison cell and she’s never felt more understood in her life. He sings that he takes a look in the mirror and cries and she almost cries, too. And his voice is so soft and gentle and it rumbles in her ear as he sings over and over and over about finding somebody to love. And that’s all she’s ever wanted, really. Somebody who wants to love her.

Overcome with emotions that she can’t quite identify, she finds herself squeezing his waist as she whispers, “Thank you.”

His lips do that thing again– whatever it is she isn’t sure, maybe a smile or maybe even a kiss, but she doesn’t want to let herself believe that too firmly– and he whispers back, “For gracing you with my flawlessly stunning musical talent?”

She laughs again and finds herself nuzzling her nose against his collarbone. “For everything. You saved my life.”

She feels him stiffen and worries that that must’ve been the wrong thing to say. Eddie hasn’t been in her life for very long at all, at least not significantly, and she was unconscious for half the time anyway. They haven’t seen each other for two weeks. This is only the third time they’ve hung out– fourth, if she counts the talent show in sixth grade. But still, something has shifted with her. Maybe having a near death, monster fueled experience with someone is a good way to form a connection with them. But every thought she has of Eddie is accompanied by a longing deep in the chambers of her heart and a fluttering deep in the pit of her stomach that has nothing to do with her need to purge her dinner. In fact, she doesn't need to purge her dinner, and she hasn’t felt like that in years.

The differences in her life can be pinpointed to Eddie Munson. His presence in the woods had to have been the thing that stopped the visions of those spiders in her head. He pulled her out of the curse she was under just by being there for her. Vecna was going to attack her anyway, whether she was at his trailer or a game or Jason’s house; Eddie’s the reason she’s still alive. She’d be gone if he wasn’t there when it happened. He’s the thing that gave her the strength to end things with Jason. He’s the reason she chose to run from her parents’ house, to flee the oppressive way that her mother would have monitored each bite she took of her dinner. And it was his idea to get her out of the house anyway, to avoid another Vecna attack.

He’s changed everything for her. And she wants him to know that she knows that, that she appreciates it. She wants him to know that, although she probably shouldn’t, she’s having feelings she’s never had before, ones that are undeniable and strong and don’t scare her even though they should.

But he stiffens, and maybe that’s not something he wants to hear from her.

“I left you,” he croaks out, his voice breaking and almost inaudible over the shredding guitar solo still blaring behind them. “I didn’t save you, Chrissy. I told you I would stay with you and I ran the second I got a chance. I’m a coward.”

“No,” she insists, shaking her head as she lifts it to look up at him. She moves her good hand from his back, using it without thinking to brush a long strand of hair back into place. “No, Eddie, if you weren’t there, I’d be–”

“Don’t,” he begs. His eyes are sadder than she’s ever seen, big and round and tearful. “Please. Don’t say it.” She doesn’t. She just stares at him, just as sadly, and nods. “I can’t– every time I think about–”

His breathing is faster, his hold on her tighter although she doesn’t mind. Tears are in his eyes and she notices the way his jaw starts trembling, panic setting in as he must recall the sight of her bones breaking and her body suspended. She can’t let him feel this way, especially not when he’s been so adamant about making her feel better, so even though she isn’t sure how he feels about her or what’s passing between them, she cups the back of his neck beneath his hair and pulls him close enough to touch her forehead to his. He hunches over to reach her, and something about it makes her smile.

“I’m here,” she tells him, recalling the way he’d done the exact thing for her. The way his words made her feel just a tiny bit better after the worst experience of her life. “I’m right here, and I'm here because of you. After you turned on Freddie,” she starts, earning a watery laugh against her lips which she mirrors, “it was like it broke through the spell, you know? And then all I saw was you. And I heard you calling out for me and I just… I just ran. I ran to you because I knew that if I could make it to your arms, I'd be safe. And I was. I still am.”

She feels him taking a deep breath, in through his mouth and out through his nose. He nods, his nose bumping against hers in a motion so intimate that her heart nearly stops. The song starts again, and even though she could be driven crazy at any moment hearing the same notes over and over, he keeps her sane. “I wish I stayed with you. I’m so sorry.”

“You couldn’t. You were right; you probably would’ve been arrested. Hawkins already started a manhunt; it’s not safe for you out there.”

“The Satanic Freak,” he muses, and she’s unable to decide if he’s being humorous or not.

“No,” she whispers. “The really nice guy who saved my life.”

That brings a small laugh from his lips, and it makes her smile. “Are you sure you don’t mean your true love saved you?” he asks, and she gives him a questioning look. “Freddie?”

Her smirk grows across her lips as his sense of humor returns. “No,” she says casually. “I’m more partial to Roger.”

“Roger?!” he balks, pulling away from her slightly but keeping his strong hands on the small of her back.

“Don’t act so surprised!”

“The drummer, Chrissy? You wound me.”

In a moment of boldness, she grins and shrugs. “I like his curls,” she says, flicking her fingers through his bangs.

For someone so cool and confident, the speed at which his eyes grow wide and his face turns beet red is surprising.

~~~~

#eddissy #eddissy fanfic #eddissy ff #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer ff #eddie x chrissy #eddie x chrissy fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddissy fluff #hellcheer fluff #this is the fluffy chapter pals #its one of my faves #hellcheer angst #angst #fluff #look in the mirror ff #fix it fic

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lunapwrites · 1 year

Text

rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! then tag 10 people.

Thank you to @spindrifters for the tag!

Applied Theory

Remus briefly debated the merits of burying his best mate in his own backyard. Maybe beneath the tree; he'd probably get a kick out of that. Probably make a joke about permanent wood or something equally crass, which honestly would just set Remus to giggling like one of his third years and he'd never get the job done. He'd keep dropping the shovel.

Where the Wild Thyme Grows

Its voice was strange, like bells dragged over gravel, chiming and rasping all at once. It choked words like a curse. It pulled Harry closer as if to punctuate its point, the vines tightening, and Harry let out a hiss of pain, blood trickling down his face, from his nose and mouth.

Louder Than Love*

Twenty-one was a good year for whisky but a bad year for his mental health. It was twelve backwards. It was apropos and terrible and he’d wanted to spend hours drowning himself in it, mapping out the symbolism on the bathroom tile so he didn’t have space in his head to worry about whether or not this was the time Remus didn’t come home.

Ouroboros

“I’m gonna wind up killing him before his lungs do, fucksake,” Remus groused to himself. He was leaning out the attic window, waiting for moonrise with a cigarette jammed firmly between his teeth, and he was certainly not going to call Sirius.

three knocks upon the door

The whole universe tipped on its axis, a top hitting a knot on the table where it sat spinning. An eldritch light shone in Lily’s eyes for the span of a heartbeat, match strike bright and hungry, and in that moment Tonks understood that Lily could swallow her like shadows if she let her, knew it like she knew her own name.

Numb (Phobos I)

"You know, as pleased as I am that you've stopped throwing tantrums over the food," Peter mused through a mouthful of toast, "I'm genuinely surprised you haven't asked me why I did it."

Monster (Io I)

Despite what society would have them all think, Remus was no monster. He took his toast with raspberry jam and wore mismatched socks on purpose and named the spiders in his bedroom window.

for him.

"Sounds to me like you've identified your problem," Remus replied lightly. Harry's glare deepened, and Remus laughed outright. "Look, I learned very early on never to assume with you, as you have a knack for surprising me, and then getting very insulted when I expect you to be —God forbid— a teenager."

The Great Biscuit Calamity of 1978, and Other Such Disasters

“Social commentary vis-à-vis a subtle subversion of gender roles in biscuit decorations. Bold. Stunning. I love it.”

A Matter of Interpretation

The idea of living in a world without Remus -- whether because Snape had finally grassed him (because apparently baby Death Eaters are fine but werewolves who get too stoned and cry over Dark Side of the Moon are not ), or because Remus managed to literally kill the greasy git (which was Understandable and Reasonable but also would likely result in his arrest) -- was Anathema to Sirius. Positively Unacceptable.

I always feel like an awkward bean about tagging, soooo if you see this and want to play, go for it! <3

#fic recs #tag game #responses #10 fic game #i highly advise checking my pinned post if you want more info #hp #remus lupin #sirius black #harry potter #lily potter #james potter #peter pettigrew #ginny weasley #nymphadora tonks #lyall lupin #assorted other weasleys lol #snape if you squint

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fakeloveaskblog · 2 years

Note

(Hi, me again. Sorry I completely forgot to write the ask so thanks for the reminder. Also sorry if I sabotaged your plans by suggesting going to the park. I hadn’t realised that Virgil’s ideas were planed locations and not just suggestions that you wrote to show what kind of outing you had in mind. I hope that wasn’t to much of a pain to work around.

Also I guess another ghost ability is teleportation. Either that or I froze time and carried the frozen Virgil across town to the park and set up the picnic before starting time again, which while hilarious to visualise me lugging Virgil around what with him being about six times my size, I’d say teleportation is a more realistic scenario.)

Hey first of all

*floats over to the torn off page with the drawings of the watchers on it and picks it up*

I love the drawings. I’m no artist either but it’s the thought that counts. Would I be able to keep this? I like hoarding little mementos like this.

I’ve met your mum all ready when you were staying at your parents house but if you don’t want me around then I’ll stay away until she’s gone. You have my word.

As for not being alone. I’m sure that at some point you will meet someone, as a friend or a partner I’m not sure but I’d say that it’s important to make sure that you won’t be a danger to them before you do. That sounds cruel but I can’t think of a better way to phrase it. You aren’t some evil, cold hearted, monster but you do need to learn how to control your impulses to hurt people and to be in control or someone else’s going to get hurt. But hey, you’ve already taken the first step by admitting to yourself that you have a problem and by going to therapy to deal with it. I know I keep harping on about it but I really am proud of you for working to become a better person.

Anyway back to the previous point. You are genuinely a likeable person when you’re in control of your impulses so if you can learn to manage them I have every confidence that you won’t end up alone.

Now seeing as were in a nice open space I’ve got a fun idea of something we can do.

*creates a bucket of water balloons*

*chuckles sinisterly*

Run!

*begins throwing water balloons at Virgil*

Just to make things fair I promise not to phase through the balloons when you throw them.

*some time later when all the balloons are gone*

Here.

*summons a towel and hands it to him*

We should probably call this a day soon but this was fun! We should definitely do it again!

Glow Eyes

(Don't worry all I had planned was like [Go to aquarium -> meet Os maybe?]/ [Go to library -> meet Jan/Lo maybe?]. It wasn't any more than that. btw I imagined you traveled through the void and just kinda pulled Viv with you but thats just my image of what happened)

Virgil tried to hid his surprised look as you took the drawing. He quickly crossed his arms and looked away "Yeah sure you can keep it. Whatever. I don't care. Do I look like a guy who cares. No. I don't. 'Cause I don't care"

All while you talked he was picking on loose threads on the picnic blanket. Slowly the threads unraveled making it look like the blanket had a missing piece at the edge.

"You're making me sound like some dog who's got to get trained 'cause it bit some kid" He got a snide look on his face as he mimicked you're voice "Danger to them. Whatever" The snide look disappeared as he rolled his eyes "I mean. You're right. I'm just being grumpy 'cause I don't like hearing it"

He rubbed his eyes to try and rub some of the grumpiness out of him somehow. In the middle of your sentence about how he wasn't a cold heartless monster he stopped and pointed at you.

"That I don't agree with! Like c'mon! I don't think any kind of good person could still sleep well after what I've done to Remy" He let you finish your sentence before adding "Best possible outcome is that if someone's gonna get hurt it'll be me"

You'd barely even managed to get your compliment about how proud you were out before he was already crossing his arms and pouting and looking away and all the other things he did to pretend he was mad instead of embarrassed.

"Yeah yeah whatever makes you feel better" He waved off, his cheeks slightly pink.

The pink shade changed into red when he heard your next part. He puffed up his shoulders and straightened his back to look cooler than he was.

"You think I'm a genuinely likeable person? Hah! I tricked you! This was all part of my plan! You're stuck in my web! Fucking stupid silly flying creature! That's what you are! A silly fuck!" He babbled out. "....I guess....I guess....All I can hope for is that...more people...or even one is as stupid as you..."

His shoulders returned to their slumped down state as soon as he saw the water balloons. He glanced between the balloons and your big eyes.

"Seriously? I'm an adult. I would love to throw harmless shit at people"

As soon as he'd finished his sentence he scrambled up on his feet and walked away. He wasn't much of a runner. He was walking very quickly though. With the way he was walking It looked like he had the song with the fastest bpm ever playing in his head.

At some point between the throwing and run-walking Virgil forgot to keep his expression cold and let himself up into a genuine smile. Even if it mostly was because he got to throw things at you.

Every time one of your balloons hit a tree instead of him he shouted out how the tree spiders were on his side!!!

All of a sudden he stopped right when he was about to duck out of the way. Your balloon crashed perfectly into the top of his head making his hair drip with water that ran down to his back.

He was still holding a balloon in his hand but his head had turned to stare over to the street near the park. He took a step back so he was more hidden behind one of the trees. In turn you floated right next to his shoulder.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was just a few people walking down the street. They didn't even walk in any goofy way.

"Panicked a bit" Virgil mumbled out while pulling at the zipper of his hoodie "I've seen them talk with Ossie before, got a bit like anxious he was also there. I'm not exactly in the mood to chat with him..like...ever"

He shook his head and took a deep breathe before turning back to you and throwing his balloon right onto you. He laughed right in your face.

"Get fucked!" His laugh ebbed out into another anxious chuckle as he glanced to the street again "They're probably just dealer buddies. Nothing to worry bout right-"

A car rolled down the street, one of those tiny italian cars. It was bright red and was swaying side to side like it was being drunk driven. Virgil squinted.

"I recognize that car.....When Remy's been showing me celebrity news and stuff I've seen it a few times. It's uhhh it's the car of....hmm...That lady who looks weirdly a lot like that Remus guy! but like uh a lady version?" He half smirked "See. I know things too" He limped his wrist before chuckling.

You handed him the towel while the two of you went back to the picnic blanket. He ate one of the leftover sandwiches. You showed, in a kind of horrifying way, how you could swallow an entire baguette in one piece by shifting your form.

You said the last part of your message while blinking your eyes in shades of pink.

"This day fucking sucked aside from the part where I got to throw shit at you" Virgil replied in a sarcastic tone. He looked away and rolled his eyes so hard it was kind of impressive "....thanks...I guess or whatever. I should probably go home and try to clean up a bit before my ma gets here"

#ask #glow eyes #thanks for the ask C:

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hannahsmusings · 9 months

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Jackson

*Jackson feels a warm gooey feeling at the thought of you being in that bakery and him showing you all his faves, he knew the owner had passed away but everyone who worked there was so sweet all the time and he felt like you’d fit right in there, he hasn’t been there in years but he knew they’d probably recognize him even if he wasn’t on the Forbes list and his face wasn’t well known, the older ladies there just being some of the sweetest people he had ever met in his life* Next time we come to London, I’ll have you pencil it in. *he gives you a grin, mouth watering at the idea of some of those baked goods, having such a sweet tooth that he normally hid and only indulged in in private, not sure why he didn’t show it to the world but it was just something he kept to himself* Of course… thank you for offering though. *he sighed, running another hand through his tousled and undone hair, happy that he brought his pomade with him, knowing he couldn’t go on a FaceTime call with a client like this* *his heart swells as you say good luck, giving you a nod* Thanks. Gonna need it. My coffee might need to turn into whiskey if this doesn’t go decently. *he lets out a quiet chuckle but it wasn’t genuine, he was just procrastinating* *he reluctantly finally makes his way to the bedroom, closing the door slightly, not wanting you to hear it if it turned volatile which it probably would, sitting himself on the bed and taking a deep breath before dialing his father’s number, putting the phone to his ear, silently hoping he wouldn’t pick up but of course nothing ever went Jackson’s way, his dad picking up on the second ring* *there were no niceties involved, his father going right into how his son let down the business by going radio silent for so long, Jackson retorting back with how nothing had gone wrong, explaining that he spoke to the biggest clients and soothed all of their worries, his father having none of it, just berating him and belittling him on the phone, Jackson being a shell of himself by the time his father hung up on him, not sure why he even called, ready to throw the phone at the wall* *he paced the room for a while, his blood boiling, that serene and carefree Jackson from 20 minutes ago buried deep under the anger and resentment that was brewing right now, his hands clutching his phone so tightly that his knuckles were turning white* *he felt like a caged animal in the room, opening the door and making his way back to the living room where you were, his shoulders high and tense, his face hardened into that perpetual frown he usually wore, his body so rigid and stiff* Did you manage to set up any meetings? *he doesn’t make eye contact with you, glancing down at the table as he pulled his laptop over, wanting to busy himself with something, anything to make himself feel less worthless, his voice low and husky*

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*grins, the idea of you ever pencilling some time out to spend time with me and show me some of your favourite places was absurd a week ago but now it felt so natural and right, I felt comfortable with you and i knew you enjoyed my company so it felt like a step in the right direction for our relationship* *heart aches at the toll this call was going to take on you, smiling a little as you mention whiskey* That can be arranged. *murmurs softly, nodding as I watch you leave and head into the bedroom, sighing a little and hoping he wasn’t too hard on you as I set up some meetings this afternoon for you, keeping the first part free to allow you to prepare for them and knowing you’d need some downtime after this phone call, wanting to make things as easy as possible with you* *sends over my calendar to Leonard whilst I had a minute, thanking him for his forgiveness earlier before I begin to sift through emails and prioritise some tasks whilst I wait for you to return* *glances up as I hear the door of your bedroom open, chest constricting to see you look so tense, your skin sallow and pale and you looking so withdrawn, hating your father in this moment* *nods at your questions, biting my lip a little* Uh, yeah. I scheduled the first in an hours time, to give you bit to prepare. *murmurs, my hand reaching out of it’s own accord before freezing, knowing you didn’t react well previously when in these moods but wanting you to know I wanted to help* Jackson..*murmurs softly, eyes full of concern and voice low and soft* Do you wanna talk about it? *asks quietly, guessing he answer would be no but wanting to offer anyway* I can get you that whiskey? *asks with a slight smile, just wanting to cheer you up a little*

#hannah plot

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dollwrites · 1 year

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BABYYY I WAS GONNA WAIT UNTIL THE NEXT ASK TO SAY ALL THIS BUT I CANT WAIT I HAVE TO TELL YOU HOW GOOD THE DABI FIC WAS NEOW, CURRENTLY SHAKING, THROWING UP, TEARS RUNNING DOWN MY FACE (AND LEGS) 😭😱 I am astonished, amazed, taken aback by how good and sexy and gross it was I was fr kicking my feet and squealing the entire time 🥰 (and I mean gross in literally the best way possible like to me gross is an utmost compliment lol). While part of me wants to just love on Dabi and smother him with attention, noncon fics about Dabi are my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE like roughness/sadism and noncon just fit with him so well 😍 I always love the idea of him overpowering and destroying a new inexperienced hero and the whole being taken and forced to stay in their hideout makes me feral every single time, if that was me I would "accidentally" wander into the wrong neighborhood just praying he would snatch me up and kidnap me lol. Also when he called you a fleshlight OMGGGG 😳 I fucking wish lmaoo. The way I actually screamed when he was like "we're past that by now aren't we?" and "this time I will fuck you braindead" ITS TOO MUCH I CANT HANDLE IT 😭 I could literally hear him saying it in his voice when I read his dialogue like it fits him so well lol. I love the way you made him talk like the snarky, condescending, and degrading way he talked to reader was immaculate and spot on like he so would make fun of you the entire time for enjoying it and being wet for him. He was so mean and rough which is soooo perfect like tbh I cant imagine a world where Dabi wasnt a sadistic dom, if you weren't a masochist before you would be after he was done with you. You have no idea how obsessed I am with this fic I'm so happy you decided to branch out to mha and write for Dabi 🥺 you deserve to have your ass ate for this fic fr 💖 I'm so beyond excited for any future Dabi fics you write, I would love to see you write about his quirk maybe 👀 might have to request something for him hehe 👀 but fr i wanna thank you and the shrooms for this amazing fic my life has been permanently altered lol 💖 jjk anon

BABY I DEFINITELY STILL NEED TO GET TO YOUR OTHER ASK BUT !!! I wanted you to know that I did see this and I am OVER THE MOON delighted that you liked the dabi fic!! I genuinely would not have decided to write for him if it wasn’t for you, and so it makes me so crazy happy to know that 1. You liked it but 2. That you think I got him accurate!! 💚💚 ALL I KNOW ARE THOSE CLIPS YOU SENT ME BUT I WANTED TO GET HIM RIGHT FOR YOU

I was so going to include something about his quirk in it but I got a little confused on how it works, I’ll have to read about it, I think! BUT DONT WORRY, MORE DABI FICS COMING SOON FOR YOU

Even from the clips I saw, he seemed like he’d be a mean ass dom and I’m HERE FOR IT I love writing them

And you can request whatever you want too!! Im also hoping you’ll come send me some Tokyo Revengers rqs 👁️👁️ I CANT WAIT TO TALK ABOUT IT WITH YOU IM SO EXCITED

#jjk nonnie !#I WILL ALSO ANSWER YOUR OTHER ASK V SOON DONUT WORRY #BUT BUT BUT EEEEEKKK IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKED THE DABI IT MAKES ME WANT TO GIVE YOU MORE

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silversatoru · 3 years

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i made this instead of doing my stacks of homework ^

step bro!itadori yuuji x f!reader

synopsis: i don’t think i even have to say this but you get stuck in a dryer and your step-brother yuuji fucks the shit out of you

t/w: 18+!!!, aged-up yuuji, stepcest, noncon/dubcon, manipulation, filming without consent, mild impact play, creampie, mild overstimulation, mild dumbification (but also reader is just dumb), mention of masturbation

w/c: 2.3k

a/n: hey!!! i joined this super fun collab hosted by my new gf @suna-reversed (thank u for letting me be a part of it!!) so if you enjoy this i highly recommend checking out the rest of the talented writers in this collab :) the jujutsuhub masterlist is here !! also,, biggest thank u my lovely friend @brandmeyelena for helping me to plan and perfect this fic throughout the entire process <333

you were a good daughter, certainty not the sharpest or the most intelligent, but you were helpful and compliant and you always did your chores. and you truly didn’t mind helping out around the house either; sweeping the floors and doing the dishes was easy enough, but there was one task that plagued you a bit more than the rest — doing the laundry. the buttons were just so confusing, and there were so many of them! and on top of that, your short stature made it nearly impossible to empty the fresh clothing out of your top-loaded dryer.

you were struggling with that exact issue right now, pushing onto your tip-toes as you tried to reach that last pesky sock stuck at the bottom of the dryer. your finger tips brushed over the warm fabric, just an inch short of being able to snatch it into your hand.

you wiggled your hips a little further, your feet lifting off the floor and your weight shifting so you fell deeper into the dryer. you were finally able to grasp the sock, but you were unable to push yourself back out, feet swinging wildly as you tried to squirm your way out of the machine.

“hey, what are you doing?”

your face flushed at the sound of your step-brother’s voice coming from behind you, your senses becoming suddenly aware of how far your dress was riding up your thighs. a pitiful whimper of embarrassment slid past your lips as you realized you couldn’t even pull your dress down — you needed both hands to hold you up and prevent you from falling into the dryer.

“ah! yuuji! ...i got stuck,” you pouted shamefully, thankful that you couldn’t see his face right now.

“again? isn’t this like... the third time?” he asked it like a genuine question, but you still felt stupid for getting stuck in the same predicament multiple times.

“mhm, can you help? please?” you whined at him, still wiggling your hips in a poor attempt to free yourself.

this only made your dress slide higher, the underside of your ass cheeks becoming prominently visible against the edge of the fabric. yuuji couldn’t help himself, gabbing his phone and snapping a few secret pictures of your exposed back-side. he planned to save those for later, maybe jack off to them if he was bored, but then a different idea flooded his head — you were no position to stop him from doing whatever he wanted right now.

he propped his phone up on top of one of the various laundry baskets, starting a video recording without your knowledge. then he waltzed back over, sliding a single finger under the fabric of your dress and tracing his finger around your round ass cheek. the sensation of touch made you flinch, your mouth gaping open as you fumbled over your next word.

“y-yuuji?” you stammered, trying to move away which only caused your ass to jiggle and shake more than it already was.

“shh, i’m helping,” he murmured, stroking his finger all the way down to your thigh.

he moved his other hand over your pretty cunt, the fabric of your panties hugging perfectly against your folds. he brushed two of his fingers up your clothed slit, causing you to yelp and continue to wriggle around.

“step-brother? what are you doing?” you continued to question him, your voice light and laced with confusion.

“i’ll help you get unstuck, but you have to repay me somehow, little sister,” he clicked his tongue at you, an evil grin that you couldn’t see stretching his lips.

he continued to poke and prod at your soft, clothed pussy, his mouth salivating as he imagined the things he could do to you in this position. every brush of his fingers coaxed gasps and whimpers from your lips, your worries and protests falling on deaf ears.

“y-you’re my brother, yuuji! w-we can’t do this!” you continued to argue, but his gentle fingers were starting to feel really good — small streams of fluid flowing out of your cunt and seeping into your panties.

“it seems like you want me to,” he observed, poking his finger at the small wet spot that was forming now, “and mom and dad won’t be home until later. no one will find out”.

you felt his strong hands weave their way underneath the straps of your undergarments, swiftly pulling them down your thighs and letting them dangle from your ankles. you sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling of your wet cunt being exposed to the cool air, shifting your hips and filling yuuji’s head with more sinful ideas.

you couldn’t see anything (with your head still being stuck in the dryer) but you heard your brother’s own pants fall to the floor, a loud clank of his belt buckle against the tiles confirming your suspicions. everything about this felt so wrong, but at the same time, you’d always been shamefully attracted to yuuji — eyes lingering on his chiseled chest for a little too long when he walked around the house shirtless.

your head was swirling with thoughts like: would it really be that wrong if the two of you indulged in each other while no one was around? it’s not like you were actually blood related or anything.

on the other hand, yuuji had a one-track mind, and he wasn’t having any of the doubts that you were — he had a tendency to listen to his dick instead of his brain. and right now your round, plump ass was staring him in the face and begging to get fucked. how could he not take advantage of this opportunity?

he lifted his hand and gave a firm slap to your right ass check, earning a gasped yelp from you which made his dick twitch and strain. he mumbled under his breath, something along the lines of ‘i’ve always wanted to do that’ but it was kind of hard to hear from the depths of the dryer.

he’d used a reasonable amount of force, a puffy handprint forming on the surface on your skin. he decided that the other cheek should match, delivering another firm strike to the other side and watching you squirm and whimper at the impact.

he grabbed his phone and pulled it over for a few close ups, showing off the swollen skin to the camera. he then placed a finger at the front of your entrance, the puffy, slick walls sucking it in as he delivered a few warm-up strokes with his hand. the camera picked up on all the grotesque squelching noises made by his finger in your cunt, as well as the embarrassed yelps and moans leaving your lips.

now that you had two matching, swollen hand prints, and your pussy had been properly prepped, he decided he was ready for the main course. yuuji returned his phone to its spot on the laundry basket before grabbing a low stool from the corner of the room and setting it in front of the dryer so he could stand on it for easier access. his cock was red and veiny, begging for entrance into your tight cunt as he wrapped one hand around it to position himself.

you’d always imagined your step-brother’s dick to be lengthy, and your assumptions were proven correct when your felt a tight pressure in your core. his girthy size pushed and stretched at your walls, pained mewls leaking from between your teeth as you clawed at the bottom of the dryer.

yuuji let out a groan that was almost animalistic, throwing his head back and placing a firm grip on either side of your hips. the way your pitiful form was positioned on the dryer gave him excellent access, the curve of his dick allowing him to stretch you deep, reaching all the way to the spongy patch of tissue that made you feel so good.

a jumble of grotesque noises filled the room, a chorus your sloppy moans, yuuji’s pleasured grunts, and the steady slap of his hips on your ass. he’d imagined what this would be like more times than he could count — fucking himself into his fleshlight and mumbling your name while he did so. but no matter how many times he’d dreamed of this moment, he never expected your walls to be so tight — so perfectly snug around his cock.

“yuuji!” you repeated his name a few times, head so dazed from the overwhelming bliss that you’d forgotten all about the initial guilt you’d felt.

“see, i knew you’d like this, little sister. your big brother would never steer you wrong, would he?” he knew his words were manipulative, but god, you were much too dumb to understand or grasp the concept of manipulation — you’d just agree with him like you always do.

“no! he would never!” you whined, letting your head dip lower into the dryer so he could fuck you at an even better angle.

your messy cunt squelched and squeezed a small stream of juices down your thigh as he picked up a deeper, faster pace, your moans becoming higher and more unsteady in response. he could feel your sloppy walls fluttering and constricting against him, his fingertips digging deeper into your hips as he let out a few breathy moans.

the tip of his cock slammed into your pleasure spot with every stroke, voiding your brain of any cohesive thoughts you might have had hiding in there. you moaned and whimpered over and over, whining yuuji’s name like a mantra as drool spilled from your lips.

yuuji could almost imagine your perfectly fucked-out face — your eyes rolling into your head and your mouth hanging open lazily. he grunted at the thought, deciding that the next time he fucked you it was gonna be somewhere that he could watch your face and really enjoy the show — because there was definitely going to be a next time.

there was a tight coil forming in your stomach, building up more and more the longer that your step-brother railed himself into you from behind. you hardly even noticed how sore your hips were getting or how numb and tingly your legs were from being bent over the dryer, yuuji’s dick filling you up so well that those things became an afterthought.

after a few more pounds to your oozing cunt that hit deep enough to graze your cervix, you felt a heightened wave of pleasure begin to crash over your body. surges of the most blissful sensation you’d ever felt racked through your systems, your whines becoming borderline screams as yuuji fucked you through your orgasm.

the way your warm, messy walls fluctuated and gripped around his cock pushed him close to his own climax, but he wasn’t quite ready to be done with you yet. he continued to provide heavy, forceful thrusts, abusing your now sensitive cunt and moaning loudly as your juices squelched out around the edges of your entrance. the disgusting sounds of your fluids squeezing out around his cock nearly sent him over the edge again, but he was determined to ride this out for as long as he could.

“it’s too much!” you wailed between heavy breaths, every stroke sending jolts of overstimulation through your clit.

you wiggled and whined, legs clenching together in defense and causing your pussy to wrap even tighter around yuuji’s dick. the added pressure and increased pleasure was something he could no longer surpass, succumbing to his own orgasm just moments later.

“fuck, feels- too- fucking- good- shit,” he grunted a long string of mostly profanity, emptying his hot release into your caverns as you continued to cry out and whimper underneath him.

yuuji had fucked you even stupider than you already were, your head way too dazed for you to even realize he was filling your insides with warm, sticky semen. he milked his orgasm all the way through and then some, his cock aching and twitching by the time he finally pulled it out of your white-stuffed cunt.

he wrapped his toned arms around your waist, finally pulling you out of the dryer and attempting to stand you up. but between the lack of blood flow to your legs from being stuck, and the good fuck yuuji had just given you, your lower extremities were in no shape to hold you up. you sunk right to the floor, your messy pussy spilling everywhere and leaving puddles of fluid and semen.

“thanks for helping me get un-stuck, big brother,” you looked up at him with admiration, blissfully unaware of how he was using your utter stupidity to his advantage.

“of course, you want me to carry you to bed?” he gave you a sympathetic look, squatting down with his back to you.

you hummed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing onto his muscular back. he carried you down the hall and into your room, laying you down and handing you an old towel for you to clean yourself up with. you were a pitiful site, hazy eyes and an ignorant smile resting on your face as yuuji admired your damaged little cunt for a few more moments before returning to the laundry room.

he grabbed his phone and ended the video, thankful that you were much to oblivious to notice that it was recording the entire time. he was definitely going to hold onto the recording for safe keeping and later use — and shit, maybe he’d even upload it to pornhub and make a quick buck too.

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