#next up is give 'em hell kid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mieux-de-se-taire · 6 months

Text

Helena - MCR Interview

Stars & Scars Interview - 4/17/04

Paragraph 8

Interviewer: What song on “Three Cheers” means the most to you and why? Gerard: “Helena” -that’s my grandmother’s name, and it’s about her. Originally, I wanted the lyrics to be more directly about her. It ended up being more of a song about her writing to me. The lyrics are very aggressive. It’s more about me ragging on myself for being away so much. After we had toured for about a year and a half straight, she died the day after I got home. She had been in the hospital, so I couldn’t see her because I was sick, too. I got home, and the next morning I woke up and she was dead. I was very angry with myself for that. I didn’t regret it, obviously, because she would have wanted me on the road. The song’s very aggressive towards myself. That’s kind of what I do. That song definitely means the most. It’s awesome. It’s one of my favorite songs on the record.

MTV Backstage Pass Interview - 10/26/04

1:10-1:34

youtube

Gerard: I believe the next single's gonna be "Helena." Frank: I think that'd be good because it means so much to... (gestures) Mikey and Gerard. Gerard: Yeah, like, it's about-- it's about me and Mikey's grandma, who passed away, so it'll show kind of a little closer to what we're more about. Not that we're not about stuff like "Not Okay," but "Helena's" definitely more aggressive, and I think you'll find the record has more aggressive songs on it than "Not Okay."

Fuse Daily Download Interview + HD - 11/24/04

11:36-11:54 (HD 1:45-2:04)

youtube

Gerard: The next single, I think, is gonna be "Helena," right guys? Frank: Probably Gerard: Yeah, we're actually discussing a video right now. Steven Smith (Interviewer): What about the video, what kind of stuff? Gerard: Um, right now the only thing we're talking about is a funeral. Steven Smith: Yeah? Gerard: But we're also talking to Marc Webb again, who did the last video, 'cause we love-- he did such a great job. Steven Smith: It was awesome. Gerard: And he's talking about choreographed dancing.

Steven's Untitled Rock Show Interview - Feb/March 2005

0:32-0:53

youtube

Steven Smith (Interviewer): (After cutting back from the music video for "Helena") That was My Chemical Romance with "Helena." What was your favorite part about making that video, um any fond memories of creating it? It's kind of bizarre but very cool. Gerard: Yeah, well, um, the coolest thing was seeing the dancers for the first time, I think. It was a really hard video to make 'cause it's such a personal subject, but it was a really good closure-- I think that's what I'll take away from it-- me and Mikey especially.

KROQ Interview - 5/21/05

0:35-0:40

youtube

Gerard: (Responding to the prompt: favorite songs on the album (Three Cheers)) The most important song, to me and especially Mikey, on the record is "Helena" 'cause it's about our grandmother who passed away.

Rolling Stone Magazine Interview + alt - 6/18/05

Page 3, paragraph 11

The inspiration for much of Three Cheers came from the death of his maternal grandmother, Elena Lee Rush, in 2003. "Helena," [Gerard] says, "is an angry open letter to myself for being on the road so long and missing the last year of her life."

Kerrang #1072 - 7/23/05

Page 6

Gerard: When we did 'Helena', I knew it was going to be heavy. I was almost afraid of the song. I knew we were going to be singing it on TV, we were going to make a really expensive video; 'Helena' was going to become a thing, and I was afraid because I knew how great it was. When I showed up for the video shoot it was grim: it was set up like a funeral and it was like walking back into my grandma's funeral (the song is about her). We chose to use a young woman not so it connected with kids -- it was to make people take it more seriously. So that people could connect with it on a broader level; when somebody older dies, you kind of expect it, when somebody younger dies, it's more tragic.

Page 7, paragraph 4

Gerard: That's when 'Helena' happened. We had this song, which wasn't about anything, then all of a sudden I said, "I think I want to make this song about grandma". So from that point on, that's what the whole record became about: loss.

Galaxie Magazine Interview - Sep 2005

Page 2, paragraph 5

Interviewer: What does it feel like to suddenly be in the same league as the bands that influenced you? Do you feel like you're in competition to be heard? Gerard: It is actually flattering. You need to play the radio game (to be heard on national radio). We were worried about Helena because all these heavy-hitting records from Nine Inch Nails, Weezer, Foo Fighters, and System of a Down came out at the same time. All these major major platinum-selling bands dropped albums and, based on what had come before, we thought Helena was done. Then all of a sudden we noticed that it wasn't. Helena remained on the charts when other songs went away. Now we are not talking shit, but our song got bigger and it made us feel that we had a chance at making a career out of this. To be able to make music that is relevant for as long as possible, that's all we want.

Zero Magazine Interview - Oct-Nov 2005

Page 7, paragraph 2-4

Interviewer: Hence the record company's decision to re-release I'm Not Okay? Gerard: Re-releasing I'm Not Okay is more of a reintroduction to the band 'cause Helena has taken off. I'm Not Okay was like this very simple, direct song about multiple high school depressions, suicide attempts, alcoholism -- it's about being an outcast. So that's Not Okay. Helena was the one that really encapsulated the band so in a way I'm happy that Helena did better than Not Okay. It was a very personal song (it's about Gerard's late grandmother), and it was the song that shaped the record. It's the most important song on the record for me. It feels great to win stuff 'cause of the subject matter, but at the same time, what it's done to people is more rewarding than awards. Like I said, awards aren't always the most validating thing, so the fact that Helena touched so many lives, even in death, I think that is really what's amazing about it.

Matt Schichter Interview - 11/30/05

0:00-0:28, 13:11-13:16

youtube

Interviewer: First "Helena" 'cause that's my favorite song on the record. Gerard: Thank you Interviewer: Why don't you tell us a bit about the song, I know you wrote it about your grandma, not many people know that. Gerard: Yeah, me and Mikey's grandma passed away, um actually after the initial writing period for Revenge, and it had a very definite concept at that point, but after she died, it all kind of changed and became about really missing her. And that's really what a lot of the record is about. Interviewer: Do you still think about that when you sing the song live? Gerard: Yeah, that song in particular.

Interviewer: Song you've written you're most proud of? Gerard: "Helena." Mikey: Yeah, I'm gonna have to go with that one as well.

Spin 2005 Readers' Poll and Interview - Dec 2005

Page 2, paragraph 17-20

Interviewer (SpinMag): "Helena" was voted Best Song of 2005 by our readers. Did you ever think a song about a grandmother would become so huge? Gerard (NotOkayHelena): I did have some sense it was going to be huge, but it almost had to be to honor a woman so amazing. When she died, I told her we would make a record so fucking loud that she would hear it all the way in heaven...ot wherever it is you go. I was worried about it being huge because it was so personal--I didn't want to exploit my pain and her death. Interviewer: Did people accuse you of that? Gerard: Not to my knowledge. I was more concerned with my own accusations. You can't be in something unique and creative if you give a fuck what people say about you.

MTV Interview - Aug-Oct 2006

3:09-3:13

youtube

Gerard: (Drawing parallels between Jawbreaker's Dear You and Three Cheers) Like "Helena" is basically "Accident Prone," in a lot of ways.

Metal Hammer Interview - 1/11/07

Page 5, paragraph 3

Gerard: [The Black Parade is a] really personal record; this is us laying it out there. It changed things. It's not so much that as when I was doing 'Helena' though. That was a lot tougher because I wasn't really ready to deal with my grandmother's death so head-on, and then when we put the record out it was, 'OK, you're going to be dealing with this for the next eight months.' There was no death that spawned this record."

Kerrang #1142 - 1/17/07

Page 14, paragraph 4

Written in tribute to Gerard and Mikey's grandmother, the opener to 'Three Cheers...' was initially painful for Gerard to sing. "I remember one critic said something like, 'Why would you want to watch this guy run around onstage whining about his nana'. How fucking shitty a human being do you have to be to say that?

Metal Edge Magazine Interview - 3/10/07

Page 6, paragraph 6

Gerard: I was surprised, but we always knew that song had a lot of power because of what it was about. The video itself was like a time stamp. I was just excited to see something like that on MTV. It was a funeral--it was a rock band playinga funeral--you never saw anything like that on MTV before, and it was just awesome to see that. To so directly make people face death and look at death in that way--as not just a tragic thing, [but] as a celebratory thing at the same time, and have people to actually face that, I thought it was pretty incredible.

Ultimate Guitar Interview - 4/28/07

Paragraph 10

Interviewer: How would you describe the previous album musically? How did you intend to make The Black Parade different? Ray: I think in Revenge you're hearing a band that necessarily didn't find its legs yet. It didn't find what it truly was. I think that there are flashes of that in songs like Helena and Not Okay and some of the other tracks. But I think it was our first record that we had written with Frank. At that point, he had been touring with us for a while but still kind of a new member. The way that me and him kind of played together was very different from the way we play together now.

Kerrang Podcast Interview - 11/22/10

5:56-6:10

youtube

Gerard: (Responding to the prompt: if you could put one song in a time capsule to represent the band, what would it be and why?) Probably "Helena?" (points the mic towards Mikey) Mikey: Yeah, "Helena," definitely, absolutely. Yeah, that song I think encapsulates everything about us, and, you know, sonic quality, message, everything about it, yeah.

Grammy Museum Interview - 1/26/11

4:51-4:57

youtube

Frank: (In response to the question: what songs have been emotionally therapeutic for you, Frank specifically talking about how songs carry emotions and associations that arise during the writing process sometimes before hearing the lyrics and how the lyrical message of a song may differ from his personal connections with it, see 4:19 for more context) Like "Helena" I'm thinking about, you know, my wife, like when I play those parts.

The First Ever Podcast - 3/16/22

1:23:08-1:23:32

Frank: I remember recording with Mike Plotnikoff, who was the engineer for Howard Benson (producer of Three Cheers), and we went into "Helena," and I played my guitar parts for the chorus of that song. And I remember them hitting the space bar, and Plotnikoff like looked at me going, "Damn, that's a fucking chorus." And I remember being like "Yes!"

The Daily Beast Interview - 2022

Paragraph 18

Gerard: I lost my grandmother before we started writing ‘Revenge’ and that loss really impacted me, because she had been the person to sit with me and teach me how to draw or make me go to the piano with her. And she would play and she would make me sing along with her and stuff, so that we had a really amazing relationship. So it was that loss and wanting to get over that loss and kind of triumph over that loss to kind of make her proud that drove me in songs like ‘Helena.’

Two Minutes to Late Night Interview - 8/15/22

17:48-18:08

youtube

Frank: There's a few songs off [Three Cheers] that we do-- have played a lot, you know. I mean, of course like "Helena" or "Not Okay." And what's funny about say like songs like that, or even "Venom," that we've done so often, you would think that they would start to get unfun or annoying, and they don't.

One Life One Chance Interview - 10/31/22

39:11-39:45

youtube

Frank: And then "Helena" they were like "Alright, we're gonna put this as like a second single." And I remember there was a time like when the-- they put the single out, and there was like a week or 2 where like we got sat down by like the radio people, and they were like "Hey, you know, we tried really hard. We're sorry." And we were like "What? Sorry? This is amazing!" And then all of a sudden, like the next week, it took off, and it became like the bigger-- it became bigger than "Not Okay," and that was like-- I think everyone's surprised that that happened, and we were just like "Okay," like-- "hey, listen, either way is great."

#mcr #my chemical romance #three cheers for sweet revenge #helena #interviews #song interviews #i try to mostly include only quotes where they talk about the song specifically and not just the video #but they're often intertwined so #i do my best #once again these are meant to be as exhaustive as possible but i'm still definitely missing interviews #so feel free to add or send me anything you think should be included #or if you have any information to correct or further specify (like dates)#next up is give 'em hell kid #which is way shorter so should take much less time #revenge #Youtube

6 notes · View notes

cryptotheism · 1 year

Text

Lilly: Good morning New Babel, you're listening to Screw Loose, your favorite early-morning exo rig and rig maintenance rig show this side of the white river, I'm Lilly.

The Bear: And I'm the Bear, and you- are on the air. What can we help you with?

Caller: Hello! Hi! So, uh, first time caller. My name is Zuri. I run a barley and flesh farm about an hour south of Isin. I'm in the market for a new rig. My last rig kicked the bucket. But I have an, uh, odd request that I was hoping you two could help give me some guidance on.

The Bear: Welcome to the show doll, we'd be happy to help. But first, I gotta ask, what were you running before and what happened to it?

Lilly: Yeah! We gotta know what we're dealing with here.

Zuri [beginning to laugh]: So we had an Arcadia Y-400-

[both hosts erupt into laughter]

Lilly: And it broke!?

The Bear: Doll what in the hell did you do to this thing!?

Zuri: [laughing] Listen! Listen! It was my grandfathers! We had been replacing parts on this thing since before I was born! It was its time!

The Bear: Lilly, is she dodging the question?

Lilly: I think she's dodging the question, Bear.

The Bear: Okay okay, so what exactly did you do to destroy this extraordinary museum piece?

Zuri: [laughing] Oh gosh I don't want to say it now.

[The hosts erupt with encouragement]

Zuri: My sons will play this game, where I'll be out working in the field. You know, rigged up, focusing on tilling. They'll sneak up behind me with their rigs on, jump up, curl up into a little ball, and try to lock themselves to my back-jack in the cargo position...

[The hosts are howling with laughter]

Zuri: They're- They're damn good at it too! My oldest, Zair, can do it in on solid motion. Its like one moment I'm minding my own business, the next moment I have a whole kid in a 100 pound work rig locked to my back!

Lilly: What a riot! Oh this is just dangerous to put on the air.

The Bear: Ahem, to all the parents at home we apologize in advance, please don't sue us.

Zuri: So- So one day- One day my youngest tries it, but he doesn't twist around fast enough, and the aux battery on the left arm clips an exposed spinal neurohelix. Zap! Neuros are fried. My legs and arms lock straight like stilts! Now I'm swearing up a storm, you know- "You little rats!" But I'm hobbling like a circus performer trying to chase em down and they're just dying. Musta been the funniest damn thing they've ever seen.

[The hosts continue to laugh uproariously at this]

The Bear: Doll we gotta get to advice part of the show or the network is gonna give YOU a show.

Lilly: What a way to go! You hit an aux to the spinal braid? That's fried. Done. Kaput. You gotta scrap that thing.

Zuri: Yeah, we've already gutted it. Old girl is rusting in the barn for parts now. Zair is a whiz, so I'm hoping he can get some good use out of it.

The Bear: So we hear you're looking for a new rig?

Lilly: What's your price point love?

Zuri: We've got a good chunka cash built up. We're looking at something in the 600 to 700 washer range.

The Bear: That's pretty good for a work rig. You've got a lot of choices.

Lilly: I have a sneaking suspicion that this price point has something to do with your special request?

Zuri: So, my oldest, Zair. I recently learned that he's been uh. Well gosh now I'm embarrassed about this too!

The Bear: Doll c'mon don't hold out on us!

Lilly: You called, we can handle it!

Zuri: I learned that Zair had been using the Arcadia to race on the weekends. He and some of the local kids would run street races at night. He's been rigging a grapple harness to the waist-jack, and stripping it before I need the rig for monday morning.

[The hosts laugh at this, though not as hard]

Lilly: Ha! So what you're saying is you want the biggest, slowest, beached-whale rig you can get? Something just impossible to race?

The Bear: I'm thinking an HR&R Pauldron, Heavy Industrial. With that type of money you can get the new 900 series. Ask for the high-stability option-

Zuri: No no! No you don't understand! The damn kid keeps placing last because he's been racing in a junker! What I'm lookin' for is something I can use as a work rig for the days, that's easy to strip and good to race on the weekends. I want it safe, you hear me? I can't stop this kid from racing, so I might as well get something that'll keep his skull together.

[The hosts explode into laughter again]

Lilly: You! You're a good mom! What I wouldn't give for a mom like you!

The Bear: Ma'am, one day, when I grow up, I wanna be like you. I wanna be that typea mom.

Zuri: So, can you help me?

[The hosts can be heard stage whispering for a moment, followed by the sound of cracking knuckles.]

The Bear: Okay. You've got a lot of good options here. My friend here wants you to get a sport rig, but that's not gonna have the torque you need for farmwork: Here's what you're gonna do-

Lilly: Would to! Have you seen what the Roadrunner 600 can do? Six point neuro uplink! Eighty pneumatic helices per leg! Tell me that's not good enough to rig a plow!

The Bear: The dirt Lil! We need solid-body articulation! Using a pneumo-helix for farmwork is like pouring sand into clockwork!

Lilly: You replace the dermis with a synthetic sheathe! I get no respect around here!

The Bear: Zuri, doll, here's what you're gonna do: You're gonna go to your local Post Office outpost. You're gonna ask if they have any old courier shipping rigs. You want middlegrade. Ask specifically if they have an Albatross W-500, or if you're lucky, an LH-640. These are long-haul light-load shipment rigs. They're ugly, but they're sturdy as hell, built for carrying things long distances through rough terrain.

Lilly: The kicker here is that they're both light-combat certified. Built-in medical and shock response treatment. You'll need to replace the medical gel canisters every few months to make sure they're fresh... And if a certain someone wanted to maybe engage in a little bit of light illegal street racing...

The Bear: Well the Albatross line is built to be constantly refitted for different weathers and terrains. So someone, not saying who, might have a real easy time stripping the plating for speed. That sound good doll?

Zuri: That sounds perfect, thank you so much girls!

The Bear: Perfect! Thank you for the call, you'll have to tell us how it goes!

Lilly: Please love we beg you! Call again! Toodle-oo!

Zuri: Thank you again!

[The caller hangs up, the show transitions into a commercial break]

#Amber Skies #Screw Loose

6K notes · View notes

cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

She’s A Gun

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: *John Mulaney voice* My wife is a bitch and I love her SO much (gif by @salome-c) I also didn’t know how to end this so sorry

Summary: Somebody didn’t give the new guy a heads up about talking about Joel Miller’s family [1.6k]

Warnings: idiots in love, a quick mention of a queer slur, I can’t think of anything else!!

You catch him looking at you across the room as you sip some new whiskey Tommy traded for. He looks young and fresh-faced without many scars or littering the surface of his skin. His eyes are bright when they meet yours, and you give him a polite smile before returning to your drink. Unsurprisingly, he bellies up to the bar a few minutes later. You glance at the door, and the man follows your gaze.

"You meeting someone?" He asks. The bartender, a kind man named Nick, flashes you a look, but you wave him off, turning to the younger man, who is dead set on making his presence known.

"You must be new." You say, and he laughs as he holds out his hand.

"You got me. I'm Luke," He says. You meet him halfway and shake his hand, giving him your name. "Where are you from?"

"I came here from Boston."

"You're a long way from home. What brought you here?"

"Long story."

"Is it longer than the time it would take to get you another drink?"

"I can get my own drink, but thank you."

"'Course," he says but doesn't move from his place next to you. "What do you do here in Jackson?" He asks, and you open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. "Let me guess. School teacher. No, a nurse."

"I work patrols, but good guess."

"Oh, I'm going to work patrols, too. I actually just signed up for my first shift tomorrow. Speaking of which, do you know anything about this guy… Miller, I think, is his name. I heard he's a hard ass."

"Joel or Tommy?"

"There's multiple?" He asks, and you smirk as you sip your drink.

"There's a few of 'em hanging around, yeah. What did they say? Maybe I can," you shrug and try to hide the amusement in your voice. "Help you figure it out."

"Well, this guy, Seth, said Miller shouldn't even be in Jackson. Something about him killing people to get by before coming here, but he gets to stay because he's buddies with Maria. Apparently, he's a hell of a shot, though. I heard a rumor that he once shot an Infected from a mile away, but I'll believe it when I see it." He says, and you nod.

You remember that day well. Tommy had been bragging about his marksmanship, mostly telling big fish stories, and you finally got sick of it. Joel told you to leave it, but you had to see. When you went on patrol the next day, you and Tommy had a competition to see how far he could actually shoot. You passed the gun back and forth to see who could hit accurately and how far. You were the one holding the gun when the Infected bound his way up the hill and quickly went down as the bullet buried in his skull. You didn't think that story would've made the rounds, though.

"What else did Seth say?" You ask, and he puffs his cheeks out as he shakes his head.

"He told me to stay away from him. Something about not fucking with people like that because he's ruthless, especially when it comes to his kid. He said Miller yelled at him last week because he said something to her. Just... totally lost his mind like a crazy person." It wasn't just something. He called my daughter a dyke, you think to yourself. Joel may have pushed him and made him leave, but you threatened to ruin his fucking life. If you ever hear him say something like that to Ellie again, you'll make Joel look like the poster child for forgiveness. You bite the inside of your cheek and save that information for later.

Seth wasn't warning Luke about Joel. He was warning him about you.

"And you're sure he was talking about a man?"

"Pretty sure. I mean, I know people do lots of shitty things to stay alive, but I can't imagine a woman instilling that much fear in a man like Seth," He says, and you hum. "No offense."

"None taken." You smile and watch his guard come down just enough for him to feel comfortable reaching for your arm.

"I wish I had known they let women as beautiful as you out on patrol. I would've signed up with you instead of Miller." He says, and you almost gag. Joel's hand skims your lower back almost as if on cue, and you turn to face him. He kisses you a second too long before looking over your shoulder to face the stranger who looks embarrassed. His arm wraps protectively around your middle, and he's close enough that you can smell his shampoo over the bar’s stench of stale beer.

"Great timing. This is Luke. He's starting patrols tomorrow," You say. Joel reaches across the space to shake his hand, and Luke winces at his too-tight grip. "Luke, this is my husband, Joel Miller," you wish you had a camera to take a picture of the stunned look on his face when he hears the last name. "Joel, we were just talking about the last time I was on patrol with Tommy."

"You're Miller?" Luke asks, suddenly looking pale. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh, I thought I mentioned it. I'm sorry, I'm probably losing my mind." You echo Seth's words and smack yourself on the forehead dramatically. Luke drains his drink before glancing around the room.

"It was great to meet you, man. Um, I'm gonna run to the bathroom really fast." He says and takes several steps away from the bar.

"Oh, so soon? I was hoping you and Joel could talk about routes."

"Maybe later." He says, and with that, he's gone. You smile and turn in Joel's arms to face him.

"Jesus, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. What did you say to him?"

"Seth was warning him about the mercenary who's buddies with Maria and shot an Infected from a mile away, asked if I knew anything about the guy."

"Seth should learn to keep his fuckin' mouth shut." He grumbles, and you nod.

"It didn't help his case that he tried flirting with me. Even asked if I was a school teacher." You say, and he gives you a look. His warm fingers reach under your shirt collar to pull out the chain with your wedding band on it.

"Maybe if you actually wore this, that wouldn't happen so often."

"C'mon, everybody knows I'm yours. It's not my fault no one gave him the run down," you say, and he tugs on the chain to kiss you, his big hands moving to hold your jaw. He swallows your gasp when he licks into your mouth, sending a zing of electricity down your spine. He's a touch too handsy for a public space, but you're not complaining. "I don't see you wearing yours out on patrol either." You say, pulling away before he can start something he can't finish, at least not in public. Still, his hand slips into your back pocket, squeezing your ass through the denim.

"Don't want to lose a finger. Besides, everybody knows I'm yours," he parrots, and you smile. A familiar, old country song plays over the speakers, and Joel lights up at the first few chords. "Will you dance with me?" He asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw to butter you up. You lock your arms around his shoulders and let yourself forget about everyone else in the bar.

"And to think there was a time when you hated PDA."

"That was before someone tried hittin' on my wife," he says, and you feel like your face will get stuck from smiling so much. It's been three months since the small backyard wedding officiated by Tommy and Maria. Ellie walked you down the aisle— more of a patch of grass than anything else— and acted as your maid of honor. When Tommy asked if she agreed to give you to Joel, she said, "it's not like she's fucking property, but sure." She beamed so brightly when she realized you each included her in your vows, promising to love and protect her as much as you love and protect each other. It wasn't planned, but the unexpected matching further proved that you three are a family. Still, you don't know if you'll ever get used to hearing Joel call you his wife. "Dance with me, please." He pouts into your neck, and you finally give in, grabbing his hand and leading him to the dance floor.

He pulls you close, and you bury your face in his neck as you slowly dance to Tanya Tucker's voice. He sings along for only you to hear, his accent getting stronger as he does. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and listening to him sing the same song you used to sing along to while driving on backroads. You would marry him again if you could. You think you would marry him in every lifetime.

Scary rumors of mercenaries and blood on your hands fade from your mind. To men like Seth and Luke, you are a subversion of their holy mother. You are bloody and broken, a monster beyond saving. You are a warzone with a heartbeat.

But to Joel, you are the most sacred thing he's ever held. It's not enough to erase the rumors and nightmares about you, but it's enough to knock the wind out of you and make you love your husband that much more. That has to count for something.

🍓

Tag list: @evyiione

#joel and ellie #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #i wrote this for me but you can read it too i guess

5K notes · View notes

elexaria · 4 months

Text

price is a good influence on the boys, always keeping them in line. its almost like theyre his boys, he doesn’t pass up the opportunity to talk about them with a proud growl in his voice. they dont know this, but he even has a tattered photo of the four of them in his wallet. he’s never settled down, never had kids, so even if theyre only around a decade younger than him, they’re like his own.

well, he’s almost always a good influence on the boys.

the new bit around the military campus, she’s a sight for sore eyes. the capt can’t help but clear his throat, one arm around her shoulder so casually. he’s a charmer, that’s for sure. “don’t let ‘em paw at you, yeah? you tell ‘ol pricey if these dogs bark at you, love, and i’ll let ‘em know who holds the reigns here.” he purrs in her ear, the rough timbre of his voice is enough to make anyone’s blood run hot.

the boys know better than to try and cuckhold price, after all, he’s kind enough to let them watch him as he flirts with the lil honey on base. their eyes watch keenly as he squeezes her arse as she passes by, a smug grin on his lips as she turns around with a playful gasp. he’ll turn his head, nodding with a grunt at the boys. “y’see that, lads? like putty in my hands, she is.” he remarks, and the boys guffaw like a group of schoolboys at how cool he is.

it gets even better when, after a year of casual dating, his lil lady agrees to let the boys in behind closed doors. “just let ‘em watch, yeah? poor boys dont get much action, it’s for morale i ‘spose. keeps ‘em fit and fired up.” he murmurs lowly in her ear, quiet enough only for her to hear. their dance is as old as time, his large hands dancing around her soft skin. her moans are like a siren’s call to the boys, it gets the hairs at the nape of their necks standing. hell, that’s not the only thing that stands to attention when price parts the glistening folds of her cunt, chuckling as he steps back to nod his head at the boys. “stunning, ‘ent she?” he growls out, a smug grin on his face as he leans on his side, dipping two fingers inside of her slowly while his thumb toys with her clit.

my god, you can HEAR the boy’s heavy breathing as they watch price toy with his girl, and johnny’s the first one to break the awkwardness by rubbing his erection through his jeans discreetly. price notices, and raises his eyebrows. “lads, the missus doesn’t mind if you rub one out. do you, sweetheart?” he coos as he crooks his fingers up inside of her, jamming the pads of his fingers up into the spongy spot where she likes it. she gasps, nodding as she looks over at how quickly the lads begin to unbuckle their belts, their cocks quickly springing up out of their confines. a symphony of grunts that harmoniously blend together with her gasps and mewls, and all are at the mercy of price. he continues to toy with her, to prolong her pleasure until, and it doesn’t take long, until the boys cum right then and there— thick ropes of cum spurting into their fists.

with a chuckle, price rises to sit on the bed, his hand now gently rubbing against her folds in a teasing manner. “right, bugger off you bunch of reprobates. give us some privacy, yeah?” he chuckles, motioning towards the door as they’re all quick to tuck their spent cocks in the waistbands of their boxers, quickly scampering off at the call of their captain.

the next morning, they’ll all sit round a small table, making comments about how good price is, how lucky they are to have seen that performance. “he deffo would let us shag her if we asked, ye ken.” johnny says quietly, leaning in close to the lads in a conspiratorial manner.

“johnny, stop thinking with your dick.” simon gruffly replies, shaking his head as to dismiss the silly notion.

“yeah, no way would he let us.” gaz agrees, a defeated sigh escaping his lips as he leans back in his seat. “she was fit, though.” he chuckles, rubbing his face as they all begin to impishly laugh at the memory.

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #captain price smut #john soap mactavish #gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #cod 141 #task force 141 #141 x reader #captain john price

1K notes · View notes

rogueddie · 4 months

Text

Warmth and Safety T | 808 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him

Steve knows he should be in his own hospital room. Not only so other people can visit too, but because of how his head spins as he struggles to walk down the corridor.

The white walls are too clinical, too metalic. They look nothing like the Russians underground lair, but mixed with the sharp stench of bleach and medicine? It's mixing into a cruel cocktail that has his instincts screaming for Robin.

He pushes forward, gritting his teeth and- trying- to ignore the memories trying to haunt him.

"Steve," Eddie greets, when he finally makes it through the door into his room, sounding exhausted. "What the hell, man?"

"I'm fine," Steve lies, hating how breathless he sounds. He sags into the chair next to Eddies bed, grimacing. "Just need a minute... catch my breath. There's, like, so many stairs."

Eddie is silent for a long moment, but Steve can feel his eyes boring into his head.

"What?"

"Wh- you shouldn't be here, man!" Eddie says. He sounds too exhausted for the stern tone to have any effect. "The nurses have told you already. You need to heal. You can't do that if you're dragging yourself around to... I don't know, check on us?"

"I need to make sure you're ok."

"We're in a hospital. We're as ok as we can get."

"I get that, but..."

The clock chimes, the earth rumbling as the town reads apart, Dustin's screams...

"Yeah, I know," Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I understand, alright? But you need to cut this shit out."

"I can't."

"Steve-"

"I need to know that you're alive. I need to know. It's not enough to hear that you're ok, I need to see it. I need to, Eds."

"Jesus Christ," he throws his head back, sighing heavy and dramatically.

But then he lifts his head, smirking a little as he opens an arm out towards him, beckoning him closer.

"Come here, big boy, let me give you a hug."

Steve rolls his eyes, but he does as he told, standing up so he was shuffle to the bed.

"You don't have to say it all creepy, man, you'll give me ideas."

"Promise?" Eddie wiggles his eyebrows. But his playfulness quickly morphs into exasperation again when he huffs out, "just sit down, Steve, come on, come here."

It takes a lot of gesturing and, eventually, slight man handling, but eventually Eddie gets Steve to lay down next to him. He tugs Steve's head down so his ear is resting on his chest and, with some hesitation, he curls an arm around Eddie's waist.

He can feel his heartbeat, thumping against his ear, matching the beeping of the monitor.

"There," Eddie mumbles, brushing his fingers down Steve's spine. "Better, right?"

"... yeah."

His heart is pounding, almost as much as Eddie's is. It's only a little reassuring that Eddie is just as nervous as him- he can only hope it's for the same reason.

"You need to take care of yourself too," Eddie continues. "Who's gonna run around after those brats of you don't heal right? Me? I'm a bad influence, Stevie, you know I'll make 'em worse."

"You'd do great, they love you."

"Noooo," he squeezes Steve a little tighter, whining as high as he can get his voice to go. "Please, I'm begging, I'll go insane if I have to deal with them alone!"

"Now you know how I feel."

"God, I wish I didn't," Eddie sighs, turning serious again so fast that Steve feels like he's getting whiplash. "This whole thing is fucked. Those kids are only, like, fifteen."

Steve hesitates for a moment, before whispering, "I was sixteen, when this all started. Back in 83.x

"Jesus."

"Yeah, it's... I don't know. Like, I know it's horrible, but I like it when it's like this. Everyone in one place, knowing that there's doctors and shit nearby."

"That's not horrible. You know they're being cared for."

"Yeah, but it's worse this time. Like... I keep thinking that one day I'll wake up and we won't have made it. This will be some stupid dream and you and Max..."

"We're still here," Eddie brings a hand up to his head, brushing his hair back. "You can feel it, right? I'm right here. We're not going anywhere."

Steve nods, closing his eyes so he can focus on Eddie's heartbeat.

"You know I love seeing you, right? Just... at least get a wheelchair or something. Please?"

Something is his chest cracks at how Eddie's voice breaks, how pained and desperate he sounds.

"Ok. I can do a wheelchair."

"Good. You start taking care of yourself and we can do this everyday."

"Promise?"

"Yeah," Eddie whispers, hand finally coming to a stop, cupping his cheek. "Yeah, I promise. Whenever and for however long you need. I'll be right here."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #nav.slm

733 notes · View notes

morganbritton132 · 10 months

Note

I absolutely love every time other people find something out about Steve and are just like ???

I wonder if any of his student’s parents are fans of Eddie’s but have no idea their kid’s teacher is married to him (perhaps finding out at career day 👀)

I love the thought of some rock n roll dad (aka: the guy in the minivan blaring Rage Against the Machine during morning drop off (aka: aka: my dad)) meeting his kid’s teacher during open house and seeing a picture on his desk of him and guitar legend, Eddie Munson.

Steve’s in the middle of explaining the curriculum for the year when Rock N Roll Dad points to a picture of him and Eddie backstage at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame last year when Eddie presented like, “You like that guy?”

Steve looks from Rock N Roll Dad to the picture and then back, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Then he goes back to talking about what they should expect in terms of homework and that was that until parent/teacher conferences.

The first thing Rock N Roll Dad clocks in the new picture on Steve’s desk. It replaced the Eddie Munson one with a new one of the two of them in the parking lot after a local show. Steve’s got his arm thrown around Eddie’s neck, both of them smiling wide, and Gareth is in the background giving them bunny ears.

Rock N Roll Dad points to the framed picture like, “Pretty cool to have met ‘em.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “It’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

Rock N Roll Dad is not gay himself but he is not one of those ultra straight Corroded Coffin fans that liked to pretend that half the band isn’t queer. He was actually watching the MTV Music Awards show that Eddie publicly came out at by declaring his love for some guy named Steve, and actually.

Rock N Roll Dad thought it made a lot of sense that Eddie Munson was gay because well. A lot of his songs were… phallic.

So, he knows.

He knows that Eddie Munson is gay and that he’s married to some guy whose name isn’t even listed on his Wikipedia page, and he knows that he lives in Chicago, but what he doesn’t know is why he never put two and two together and got Steve Harrington.

There’s a different picture of Eddie Munson on Mr. Harrington’s desk when Rock N Roll Dad goes to talk to him after his kid gets detention for being a little shithead. There is framed original concept art for CC’s first album on the wall behind Steve when Rock N Roll Dad checks in on his kid during a zoom study session.

Hell, Rock N Roll Dad follows Eddie on Tiktok.

He has seen the ass shots that Eddie has posted of his husband in his running shorts, and he did think, yeah, that’s a great ass. He didn’t know he was thinking that about his kid’s math teacher!!

It’s not even Career Day when he discovers it. It’s the day before when they can set up their booths in the gym because Rock N Roll Dad may be a heavy metal fan always, but he’s also an accountant from 8:30 to 4:30 Monday thru Friday.

He’s struggling to keep his poster board up when in walks guitar legend, Eddie Munson. He’s carrying a box, following behind a guy carrying an iguana.

Rock N Roll Dad abandons everything and walks over to the booth across the way. He can hear the two bickering with each other but before he can say anything, Steve Harrington is there and he is distressed, “Why do you have that?!”

“Her name is Leia, Steve,” Dustin says, “and she has separation anxiety.”

Steve opens his mouth like he wants to complain but doesn’t even know where to begin so he just accepts it, “Is she going to eat somebody?”

“That happened one time!”

Eddie Munson, infamous guitarist that lived on Rock N Roll Dad’s walls as a teenager, uses the opportunity to slide up next to Mr. Harrington and wrap an arm around him. He kisses his cheek, “Baby, we’re here to help.”

“You’re here to guilt me into letting you be a part of Career Day.”

“I can multitask, babe,” Eddie grinned, still so close to Steve that his smile touches his cheek. Steve just sags against him and Rock N Roll Dad thinks, oh. He thinks, oh, shit.

“You have a fan,” Steve mumbles, pulling away a little. It takes Rock N Roll Dad a second to realize that they’re talking about him and then he thinks, fuck.

“Hey – Hi. Uh.” He stops, thinks about lying and saying he needs tape or something, but settles on, “I didn’t know my kid’s teacher married you.”

“Technically, I married him.”

“Technically, I married both of you,” Dustin pointed out. “I officiated the wedding.”

“Ah,” Rock N Roll Dad says because what else is there to say. “Big fan.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

#at this point in the timeline Steve has only been shot from waist down in Eddie’s Tiktok account #you may be thinking ‘is rock n roll dad Jeremy’s dad’ and he’s not #he’s the father of a kid that doesn’t give a shit about how their teacher is married to so when he goes home and says your math teacher is #married to a celebrity they’re like ‘I don’t know who that is so no he’s not’#so Steve’s students don’t find out until Eddie’s infamous ‘why is your math teacher my husband’ Tiktok #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

1K notes · View notes

axelsagewrites · 6 months

Text

Jace Velaryon*Frat Baby

Pairing: Jace x pregnant!f!reader

Word count: 1688

Warnings: rivalry, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Masterlist Here

Part One Here

Jace had went from being your sworn childhood enemy to fuck buddy to now the most awkward conversation of your life. You had been avoiding completely for the past month as you debated what to do so when Jace got the ‘we need to talk’ text he made sure he was free the next day for lunch. You were sat in a café across from campus, anxiously sipping on the caffeine-free tea Sansa had insisted you switch to instead of your regular coffee.

You wondered if the hole in your stomach was morning sickness or nerves but you just crossed your fingers and hoped for the best as you waited. Jace walked in, dressed like a burst bag of clothes, and anxiously scanned the room before rushing to your table. “You’re late,”

“Class ran over. have you ordered?” he said making you roll your eyes at his lack of apology as he ordered from the very perky waitress you were for some unknown reason suddenly jealous of. after he ordered, even ordering you your favourite sandwich which you were shocked he knew, he turned his attention back to you, “So what’s ‘Defcon one’?” he asked, quoting your text.

You took a deep breath as you debated how to say it before suddenly the words tumbled out, “I’m late,”

“I thought you didn’t have class today?” Jace asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy making you face palm. A few beats of silence passed before Jace said a quiet oh, followed by a louder oh, followed by a “oh fuck,” followed by one more quiet oh.

“You good?”

“I mean sure. Are you?” he asked, sitting up suddenly and leaning over the table and dropping his voice, “Does it like hurt?”

You stared at this frat boy for a solid three seconds before rolling your eyes, “I’m pregnant not dying!”

“I thought it hurt, okay?”

“It hurts later on,”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“Highschool biology!”

“I ditched that week!”

“Yeah, to fuck Sara Snow!” the waitress who brought your food offer gave an awkward smile making you both sigh and drop your voice. “Look I get this isn’t what we planned for but,” you paused for a second before finally saying the words out loud, “I wanna keep it, him, her, them I don’t know. but either way I totally do not expect you do be involved and I wont even tell your mom but I- “

“Eh!” Jace cut you off, his eyes widening as his shoulders tensed, “No! you don’t get to just toss me aside during this,”

“I’m not tossing you aside- “

“Yes, you are! It’s my kid!”

“It’s a clump of cells,”

“My god damn cells. Half of them belong to me,”

“What you want me to stick em on a petri dish?” you spat out, “Look I’m just trying to give you an out,”

“Who said I wanted an out?”

“You wanna raise this baby?”

“Yes, I wanna raise *my* baby,”

“It’s my baby,”

“Our baby!” Jace said before sighing, “Look I’m not going anywhere and don’t for a second think I’m gonna leave my kid behind thinking I’m a dead beat. No this is what’s gonna happen- “

“You are in no position to tell me what to do- “

“Shut up!” Jace snapped, “Honest to god shut up and listen to me okay cause I am freaked the fuck out right now but I am not gonna abandon you,” he said and you weren’t sure if it was the foetus getting to your brain but it was the sweetest way he’d ever told you to shut up which would normally be met with a rude slap, “We are gonna do this together. I’m gonna get a part time job at my family’s firm. We’re gonna save like hell and then by the time our last year rolls around the baby will be like what? 3 months?”

“Two,” you said as you let Jace recover from his spiral.

“Right two. We’re gonna get a flat off campus and we’ll just have to pick our classes at the same time to make sure we can do it, okay?” he said but the way his eyes were strained made you wonder if he was genuinely asking for reassurance.

“We got this,” you said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand, “We’ll figure it out,”

Jace let out a heavy sigh of relief as he sunk into his chair and picked up his sandwich, “Okay good. Now eat up. And we’re getting dessert too. You’re eating for two,”

Shockingly Jace had been sweet this whole time. each day he dropped off snacks or random baby things he’d found at your dorm. This ranged from dummies to blankets to a fucking crib catalogue. When summer break came you were pregnant, terrified, and explaining to both your parents and Jace’s about the whole situation.

They were unpredictably happy. That was till you told them you weren’t a couple and your mums both deflated a little but eventually they got back with the programme. You expected Jace to lap up his final child free summer out partying but instead he took day trips with you to the beach, went out baby shopping with you, and would just sit in with you watching movies and eating ice cream. You wondered if he was trying to make you gain 100 sizes by the end of this pregnancy with the amount of junk food, he got you. he’d even drive over at 2am with whatever weird pregnancy craving you had.

The giving birth part was the terrifying bit. But Jace held your hand through every push. “Just one more,” the midwife told you as you began to break Jace’s hand with your grip but finally you heard the cries and let your head fall back into the pillow as you panted, “It’s a girl!”

“We have a daughter,” Jace grinned, a wide dopey smile on his face. His head turned to face you and soon you broke out in your own smile as they cleaned your baby up. You saw his head begin to dip but this kiss was far different from any other.

It was sweet and tender and life altering even if it lasted a second before the woman brought your daughter over and placed her on your chest, “Hi baby,” you cooed at her.

Jace leant over to get a better view, “She’s so pretty,” he whispered, “just like you,” he added as he kissed the top of your head, not even poking fun at the sweaty state of it.

Jace moved into the guest room at your house for the first week of your daughter's life but soon he ended up in your room. He said it was for convenience but that didn’t explain why he held you in his arms. As you began to unpack your things in your new flat as your baby slept you turned to Jace, “What are we?” you asked as he unpacked the plates.

He rolled his eyes at you as he put them in the cupboard, “My girlfriend you idiot,”

“You never asked,” you shot back, hand on hip.

He turned to you with his cockiest face possible, “Sorry I thought between the sex, cuddling, and baby we just had you would’ve caught on,”

“Uhuh,” you rolled your eyes as he turned away from you to continue unpacking but you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your cheek against his back, “Ask me,”

You could hear him chuckle before he turned around, taking your face in his hands, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You grinned before putting on your best thinking face, “I suppose I could be,”

“You suppose,” he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he lent in to kiss you only to be rudely interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. “I’m gonna kill him,” Jace groaned as he ran to the door to stop the noise, so the baby didn’t wake.

“What up bro?” Cregan whisper shouted as he hurled into your flat, “Where’s the baby?”

“She’s in the nursery sleeping,” Jace said, slapping him in the stomach as he mentioned the sleep.

Cregan rolled his eyes as he passed Jace and walked up to you with an overflowing gift bag, “Consider this a baby-welcome home-nice to meet you properly gift,” he said as he handed you the bag.

You laughed as you began to empty the contents onto the bunker to find university baby sized hoodies, t shirts, hats, and even a scarf. Of course, digging further in you found a soccer jersey, baby sized of course, rattles, and then your hand settled on a box. “Condoms?” you asked, holding the box in the air.

“Hey!” Cregan defended, hands in the air, “She’s cute and all but I’m not ready to be a double uncle. They’ll overtake me when I babysit,”

You and Jace turned to each other before looking back at him, eyes narrowing with concern, “Who said you were babysitting?” Jace asked.

Cregan just rolled his eyes as he began to wander and look for the nursery, “Bitch please she needs me. I’m the fun uncle,”

“You’re not her uncle?” you said as he reached the pink painted nursery door.

Cregan span round, hand on heart and hurt in his eyes, “Not cool man. She’s not just your guy’s baby. She’s basically the frat baby,”

You debated arguing more but watching Cregan, a built like a truck manly man, fawn over a baby no bigger than a doll was too cute to interfere with. You weren’t sure how you survived university with a baby and a Jace btu somehow with a lot of help from Cregan and Sansa who had become expert babysitters by now you managed. Some day you would have to explain to your daughter her parents were sworn enemies but not today. No today your daughter was three years old and teaching Jace to do Taylor Swift choreography with her so they could surprise you.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons

@aleemendoza2425-blog @happinessinthebeing @bellstwd

877 notes · View notes

festus-eats-tabasco · 9 months

Text

transcribing my breakdown of the trailer here bc i'm going feral

dramatic riptide cover >>>>>>

THE MET!!!!

is it just me or is he wearing the leather cord for the beads in this scene? did they give it to him before camp? i'm intrigued

LOOKING AT PERSEUS!!!!!!! Absolutely FANTASTIC choice

getting up to defend Grover <3

AND! Nancy Bobofit sighting

also is Riptide vibrating when Mrs. Dodds gets close because that's baller as hell

current working theory is the kids are gasping at Nancy in the fountain, ESPECIALLY because of the "there you are" bit

the Fury looks BADASSSSSS

MOUNT OLYMPUS SIGHTING!!!!

Zeus's throne is engraved with lightning bolts!!! Also are those faces at the bottom??? what do they represent hmmmmmm

the Montauk cabin looks so cozy and homey and i'm emotional about it

i think this is Percy on the porch of the Big House

ALSO LAKE SPOTTED!

nah bc this shot is my entire personality right now and i think based on the next shot they're going into the Hermes cabin

this shot of him during capture the flag against Clarisse is INCREDIBLE

this is my absolute FAVORITE shot of Annabeth!!! HER FOCUS IS SO INTENSE! THAT IS H E R!!!!!

also is she watching Percy train with Luke??? maybe??? who knows

I'm assuming they're in the Underworld here because of the two thrones and the general mist n shit

Auntie Em's!!!!!!!!

I LOVE the lighting in this shot oh my god look at that framing this is GORGEOUS

this shot is so fucking funny. these poor kids

ok so get ready for some analysis

the golden statue is carrying the symbol of the boar aka Ares AND she's standing in a seashell so I'm guessing it's meant to be Aphrodite

plus with the tapestries in the back and the theatrical lighting of the place i'm guessing this is the entrance to the Tunnel of Love??? maybe the statue was made by Hephaestus, it look a bit automaton-esque

is this a shade in the Fields of Asphodel?????

I LOVE THIS HUG AWWW

also Percy is still in his quest clothes so I'm wondering if this is maaaaaybe post-scorpion sting???? maybe he just got out of the infirmary? idk

*inhuman screeching*

Tunnel! of! Love!

ok this precedes Percy falling off the gateway arch and she's gesturing like a command so I'm guessing she's gesturing to the Chimera??? at first i was like ATHENA but she's the park ranger in the Hoover Dam not the arch whoops

i'm sad

THAT'S! MY! BOY!

WOOOOOOO this trailer is incredible and I'm gonna cry anyway tell me your thoughts y'all i'm in brainrot mode

#percy jackson #pjo #rick riordan #riordanverse

812 notes · View notes

sillysillygoofygoose · 8 months

Text

Toji and His Plus-Size Baby

Headcanons!! (NSFW MDNI, mentions of body image issues 💕)

... For my babes with a lil xtra meat on 'em... me too, sweetheart, you fine as hell! 😘🤭)

During his "young and dumb days," Toji almost always dated and slept around with size 0 girls. He never really considered being with a bigger girl, only sweet talking the girls that moved in packs during 'ladies' night' at the bar he would frequent.

Toji just assumed they were what he preferred... why not? They're beautiful and young, but it doesn't really matter their build, as long as he's getting his dick sucked at the end of the night.

He didn't realize how much he loved bigger women until he met you. After spending his younger years fucking and flirting with teensy-tiny girls, he met you.

You're young, beautiful, and smoking fucking hot. Just his type.

Toji doesn't mind the size of your body at all. He doesn't even think twice. He knows you're the most gorgeous girl he's ever seen, and as far as he's concerned, your body only adds to that.

He was so confused the first time he saw you visibly insecure about the way your body looked.

"Doll, you've been gettin' ready for over an hour... just pick any dress, it'll look fine. I'm surprised they haven't given our reservations away." Toji sassed as he cracks open your bedroom door slightly, nosey to see what you're even up to, bending down to peek his head in.

"Aw, Jesus Christ, sweets..." The sight that meets Toji causes him to be slightly taken aback and mildly concerned. Dresses, pants, and shirts alike have been carelessly tossed about, the clutter tarnishing the previously spotless room. In the middle of the mess, the eye of the storm, there you sit on your knees, hand covering your pouty mouth.

"What happened, bub?" Toji sits down next to you, immediately moving to pull you onto his lap.

His muscles tense, heart panging as he feels you push him away, tears cascading down your round cheeks.

"Nothin' -hiccup - nothing looks good on me." You mutter out oh so quietly, embarrassed that a man as stoic and built as Toji is seeing you in one of your most personal fits.

Sharply inhaling, you quickly stand up, aggressively wiping your tears, stalking around your messied room almost maniacally. The anger of not feeling beautiful over takes your body, blood boiling inside your pulsing veins. You pick up and put down shirts, tugging them from their place, before angrily folding them.

"This makes me look fat... this dress gives me the figure of a fucking refrigerator. Oh my god, are you fucking kidding me, none of this shit looks good. Fucking hate it. Hate my body so fucking much." You huff and puff, fist clenching at your sides. You rush around your room, picking articles of clothing up, briefly displaying them to your beefy boyfriend, before throwing them right back on the ground. Speaking through gritted teeth, you're unsure if you're rambling to Toji or yourself.

"Hey, hey, pretty. Calm down okay, let's just take a deep breath." Toji's thick worker hands grab at your shoulders, forcing you to stop your anxious outburst. He rubs up and down your broader shoulders as you feel a nip of embarrassment, and disgust reach your system. Staring at your feet in shame, you let yourself regulate, closing your eyes as you grab onto the soft fabric of Toji's shirt.

"For the record, that dress is beautiful on you. It brings out your curves."

This man and your thighs. Unbreakable bond, let me tell you. His hands are always on the thickest part of your upper thigh. He loves the way his fingers leave small indents in the soft flesh. While you two are laying in bed, he always props one of your legs over his hip, pulling you as close as possible to him .

The extra bit of chub on your hips is something he could eat for breakfast, lunch, AND dinner. Toji loves doggy and missionary for this exact reason. He loves pulling on your hips, engulfing as much of your side in his hands as humanly possible.

Cuddling. Cuddling. Cuddling. Holy shit, he can't get enough. He thinks you were made for snuggling and being held at night. He loves to squish the fat on your thighs, hips and tummy, praising you when you whine for him to stop.

"C'mere pretty, get on top of me." Toji grabs for you body, rolling his eyes when you put up a fight.

"I'm gonna flatten you." You giggle out, settling on resting your head on his chest.

"Tch, yeah, right... You sayin' I'm not strong? Think I can't handle my girl?"

You sigh moving half of your body to rest on his. Toji's hand immediately flies to the dough of your ass, rubbing circles into the skin.

"Mmm, much better. Fuckin' perfect, sweets."

As much as he loves all of your body, his favorite part is the little pudgy part of your lower stomach. Whenever he's hugging you from behind, his hand's designated spot is your tummy. Thinks you're cutest when you're wearing a little cropped shirt and your tummy is just peaking out... my goodness 🥰

Is a little suspicious when you ask him to take you to the gym with him, but happily obliges. It's so much fun when you take an interest in his likings, but...

"This isn't because of that damn Victoria's Secret Angels comeback, right?" Toji glances at you through his peripheral vision as one of his hands commands the steering wheel, the other resting on your yoga-pant clad thigh.

"Huh?" You snort out, tilting your head in confusion.

"I like ya' goin' to the gym with me, just hope you know what a pretty girl you are. My pretty girl."

This man makes sure you're eating your meals. The two of you have a date night where you stay in and cook a recipe you picked together.

Toji often fantasizes about how your soft body would only get softer while pregnant. Your plump tits swelling up, your belly rounding. So beautiful.

He loves your body, whether you gain or lose weight, because he loves you. Plain and simple.

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo

#fem reader #jjk x reader #size difference #age difference #jjk #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #jujustu kaisen #toji zenin #toji headcanons #toji x you #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro toji x reader #dilf toji #chubby reader

771 notes · View notes

moriwood · 7 months

Text

Flavor of the Month — p.js

top!park jongseong x btm!male reader smut 1.5k words

Working at the most exclusive gentlemen’s club in the city, you’ve gotten various influential bachelors lining up each night to have a private show with you. Tonight, you might just be meeting your new favorite client.

includes: jay is the mayor of the city n u suck his cock like the dominant slut that u really are ✨

The decade-old air conditioner whirrs, droplets of refrigerant pooling in a repurposed paint bucket. The stupidly cold and dingy room pricks at your barely-clothed body as you attempt to pose salaciously like the club’s matron told you to do so, but there's not much that you can do when you're sharing the cramped space with others dancing to white noise with awkward fervor.

You play with the waistband of your black mesh briefs, thumbs languidly stretching it around as you wonder who the hell is that man behind the heavily tinted window. You see his silhouette pointing at you, probably whispering something to the matron Heechul with the way he's leaning towards him.

"That one's a new recruit," you hear the muffled voice of Heechul, then a guffaw. They talk more, but the rest’s unintelligible. It takes a few more dull minutes before the man leaves and the door creaks open. The matron Heechul skips — scratch that — hops to you with a gummy smile.

He squeals, “you’ve got someone waiting in the executive suite.”

“Who’s the client?” one of the older performers asks. “Must be a big shot if he doesn't wanna lounge at the front like the rest of 'em.”

Heechul rolls his eyes and harrumphs, “Chitchat later. Our youngest just secured us our wealthiest client tonight." After tousling your hair, he gives your shoulder a friendly pat, accompanied by a hearty cackle. “Make us proud, kid.”

With a cheeky salute to the rest of the men in the room, you grab a bathrobe from the coat hook and make your way to the warmer hallway. A faint red light seeps out the door of the executive suite at the end of the corridor, a mixture between an alluring invitation and a subtle warning.

What meets you inside is a man handsomely dressed in a black suit. He hasn’t noticed you yet, busy unbuttoning his suit. His face is strikingly familiar, as if his image had been plastered on the streets months prior — during a political campaign…

“Mayor Jay?”

Finally, his eyes meet yours; his eyebrows furrowed as he seems to struggle with the buttons of his cuffs. “Shouldn’t you be helping me off my clothes?” he grits, ignoring the fact that you recognized him quite quickly. You smirk, untying your bathrobe and sauntering toward him with an air of nonchalance. His stare locks in on your peeking bulge, beating against the constraint of your skimpy underwear. You help him take his coat off, your hands soon settling on his belt strap.

“First time in a place like this… Sir?” you tease. “I tend to go overboard with the attractive ones so tell me what’s your limit.”

He laughs, “My limit? Don’t boys like you just lie down and stay quiet?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning so close a retort spills from your lips. “You wanna play rough with me?” you sweetly ask. “Wanna fuck me so hard I bleed? Leave me limping so my next clients know how much you fucked me so good?”

An arm envelops your lower back as he pulls you in, a cold calloused hand tickling your warm body and your cock laying flat against his clothed erection. You fall into silence, a gulp escaping. The mayor seems to be intimidatingly well-endowed. “I guess your matron didn’t tell you that I’ve got you for the whole night? You’re only mine tonight.”

Your brain short circuits at the sudden assertion of ownership, hands nervously hovering over his belt in eagerness. But he holds you off, looking around the room, noting a black king-sized bed, a black velvet sofa, and a wine bar with a marble counter. Settling for the sofa behind him, he kicks off his shoes and slips off his socks, sprawling comfortably across the cushions.

“Give me a glass of that,” Jay commands, pointing at the bottle of Belvedere at the side. You oblige, pouring him a healthy amount in an old-fashioned glass as he undoes his long-sleeve shirt. “Now, you drink it,” he directs. You tilt your head in confusion, but you comply, a single sip already burning your throat. “Drink it all,” he adds.

You’re too weak with alcohol to start drinking way before the client, that’s not a good tactic if you want to milk the mayor’s wallet dry. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sir—”

“I won’t let you suck my dick until you finish that glass,” he warns you, his hand lazily palming his bulge. Your cock twitches in anticipation, chugging the contents of the glass, some of it spilling over the corner of your lips. You pour yourself another one as some desperate act of establishing dominance over the mayor. “Give it to me, Sir,” you beg, eyes slightly blurring and speech slurring with the two meager glasses. Liquor truly hits hard on an empty stomach, you realize. Or maybe the mayor’s just hitting all the right notes with turning you on.

He beckons you over with a finger, making you crawl towards him. His legs spread wide for you and you finally get to unbuckle him, cheeks nuzzling his crotch. The button and the zipper go next, revealing a glorious masterpiece standing on a thick bush, adorned with thick veins and a leaking head. You grab him from the base, as you inhale his musk. Your cock twitches for the nth time tonight.

“Can you fit it all?” he whispers, sweeping your bangs away to look at you in your eyes. “I’ll try,” you mumble, hand gently stroking him up and down. Jay laughs in response, putting his hands back to his sides. “Try to take control and if you can’t, I’ll just fuck your throat.”

You lick his leaking precum, ending at his tip as you start to suck on his head. His precum tastes sweet and bitter at the same time, reminding you of the cum of a man who smokes cigarettes often. Then you notice the slight smell of smoke mixed in his strong perfume, nothing new with your clients. He shivers from pleasure with an inaudible praise. You suck eagerly as your hands roam his thighs, eventually making him tangle his fingers on your hair.

“You’re such a good boy,” he mumbles, “but you haven’t sucked it all, haven’t you?”

He pushes your head down slowly, tears beginning to spill from the sheer girth and length of his cock. You try to say something in protest, but the vibration of your throat only makes him lean his head back, mouth open and panting like an exhausted athlete. Your nose now lays flat against his pubic hair, and while you weren’t choking, you were struggling to enjoy the experience. Your tongue tries its best to cover the huge expanse, finally withdrawing with his cock fully wet and a string of spit following your tongue.

“Don’t stop,” he begs, hand cradling your face as he stares at you with this new face of desperation. “You’re doing so good, so fucking good.”

You go back to sucking on the head of his dick, this time with your hands stroking the shaft and your best skill, tongue darting across his frenulum. Now, Jay is making a lot of noise, hands clawing at the velvet sofa, a bunch of broken praises and incomprehensible requests falling through deaf ears. You decide you’re still in control, despite the slight inebriation.

It’s beginning to sound all sloppy, precum spilling from his cock like a bottle of lubricant being squeezed. Likewise, you feel yourself spilling through the mesh of your briefs, probably messing up the carpet you were kneeling on. You look up at Jay, and while the poor guy tries to keep his eyesight on you, he’s tilting his head back and gasping in overwhelming pleasure.

“Fuck,” he screams, finally managing to hook his fingers again on your hair and pushing you down. Your hands let go of his cock, your throat now easily slipping the whole length in. “Lap it all up, you fucking slut,” he manages to let out.

You lower down your underwear with your free hand, stroking yourself at the same pace as he pulls and pushes your head on his cock. At an erratic pace. Both of you were about to climax, with the way his cock is throbbing at an abnormal speed and your body tensing up in cold shivers.

“I’m cumming, shit!” he cries, exploding into your mouth. You greedily lap his cum up, swallowing every single drop despite its honestly awful taste. You wish he would’ve cummed in your ass instead, but barely an hour has passed and he promised the whole night for you. You jerk yourself into completion at the same time, squirting cum all over the carpet.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your head as you let go of his cock, both of you breathing rapidly while you stare at each other with still-unresolved lust.

Jay grins as he points again at the bottle of vodka behind you. “Another glass of that and I’ll fuck you in the ass.”

author's note: sry for d inactivity, i jus lov it when exam week suddenly turns into exam month. :') read the very distant sequel here: [Stealing the Spotlight — k.sn + p.js] and stream sweet venom. >:VV

— moriwood. || [My Carrd]

#enhypen x male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #enhypen x reader #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong x male reader #smut #jay x male reader #jay x reader #kpop smut #mori fics

298 notes · View notes

weebsinstash · 11 months

Text

As much as I want to have children by this man, let's take a moment to sip our platonic yandere Miguel juice

-i can't decide which sex he'd be more partial to in a 'child'/you since in the movie there was Gabriella but in the comics he eventually has a son who becomes the next Spiderman but--

-as a girl i just naturally think of a lot of those sorts of gender specific ideas 👉👈 he's this big scary hulking intimidating threat and his "daughter" is the one melting his cold exterior

-doesnt matter if you're a grown ass woman, Miguel sees you struggling to braid your hair and suddenly here he is, full dad mode, doing it for you,and depending on how close you two are, maybe he disguises it with "ugh, stop spending so much time messing around with that. If I do it for you will you get back to work? 🙄", but really it's just your new self proclaimed dad/tio wanting to help braid your hair and help you feel pretty and, oh, how he can fondly remember the last time he helped braid "his daughter's" hair...

-of course this evolves to him just loving to do things with your hair. Braid it, wear it natural, style it, use products on it, hes got you. you were just trying to put your hair in a lazy updo like a ponytail or bun and this man doesn't let you leave until he's got you completely combed out, hair braided with ribbons, and of course this entire time youre awkwardly sitting there in a chair in his absolute cave of a workstation with this gargantuan 6'9 man there, "so how was your day? Staying out of trouble?"

-really I mean. Is stealing other people's kids NOT technically in character for him. You're unfortunate enough to trauma bond with this man and you're never getting rid of him

-you hear Miles Morales call him tio (as in the tio meaning dude) and you jokingly teasingly start calling him tio, which Miguel secretly pretends is the version that means uncle. You're just constantly joking around or looking up at him with these big pouty eyes, "but tio 🥺 can't I PLEASE--" and its like. Lmao people know that if they need to ask Miguel for a favor, that it increases their chances to have you ask in their stead

- I mean, as a female adult abused as a child by my own father, raised by a single mom myself, like...

Reader flinches away when Peter B goes to give you a supportive pat on the back or comes in for a high five after a mission and you force yourself to laugh because you're feeling more than just a little awkward and in the spotlight. "Oh, sorry, that was dumb!" And they eventually get you to kind of anxiously word vomit "my dad used to just kind of, rough me up sometimes when I did something wrong! It-it could've been a lot worse honestly, but, it-it just makes me kinda jumpy around guys sometimes! It's not a big deal, or personal or anything. I'm sorry if I made you feel bad 🥺"

Peter B, Jessica, and Miguel all there as older parental figures and also literal parents, immediately exchange looks and agree like "oh hell naw, don't like that" and you get silently adopted by all three of em right then and there

-if it's a physically abusive father and you're still the victim of abuse, I imagine your dad had some suspicious figures suddenly show up in the middle of the night to terrify and threaten the shit out of him and suddenly you aren't getting as manhandled anymore

-can you imagine, like, you show up to Spider Society one day with a black eye "oh, this? It's, it's nothing. My dad is just, he's about to make police captain and he's really stressed about it is all" cue all your friends mentally high fiving around the table because your abusive piece of shit dad is going to die and you don't even know. When it happens they'll all be "oh no, sweetie, I'm SOOOO sorry :(" meanwhile they're thrilled bc now you don't have any parents and they can weasel in there as your new family, schedule your birthday parties, monopolizing more of your time, things like that

-goddd I just imagine it could become some kind of weird fucked up enmeshed scenario where the structure it's providing for your life is actually good for you meanwhile Miguel is like, retroactively kind of soothing some of his trauma both from his own childhood and what happened with the second universe he broke that it's just like. You're a grown ass adult and this man is tucking you in goodnight and saying "te amo, mija" at the doorway and you bet his ass is going to stand there and not let you sleep until you say it back. He knows you're just absolutely seething at him and he'll still refuse to leave without a grumbling "te amo, papá 🙄"

-He eventually just has you doing so much shit and depending on him so much that it starts to become second nature to you. one day you're in the Society doing one of the odd jobs you're allowed to help with and suddenly you're thinking, "Ugh I actually don't know what to do next, I wish Papá was here to-- WAIT SHIT NO I MEAN MIGUEL--"

-lmaooooo as a non Spanish speaker I keep thinking of how awwwwwful it would be if he actually forces you to learn Spanish. Not inherently because there's anything wrong with Spanish, but, I'm not always smart, and I can just SEE him quizzing your ass, forcing you to have entire conversations in Spanish, always clicking his tongue or chuckling at you when you make a mistake and he just thinks you're so cute struggling to learn 🥰 man hears you're trying to take extra lessons from Miles and he instantly drops everything he's doing to go track the little scamp down. Insert meme "I can forgive being an anomaly but I draw the line at teaching Reader bad Spanish"

-siiiiiiigh eventually the day comes when you're in big danger and you need his help, maybe you disobeyed him and was hanging out with some other Spiders in another dimension when there was a sudden villain attack, and he comes to your rescue as a villain does something dramatic like has a gun to your head or a knife to your neck and the second you see him you're just overwhelmed wirh a sense of relief, calling out for him, calling him dad/tio/papá whatever, and he's just like 😭❤️ pumping his fist internally, like YES you are so grounded when you get back home but also 🥰 you finally called him dad without him having to twist your arm 🥰 nevermind if the "villain" who kidnapped you was actually a Spider who owed him a favor, and this whole thing was to teach you a lesson about listening to your Papá, that's not important ❤️

-Miguel who forces you to learn Spanish vs Miguel who forces you to be Catholic. I can excuse kidnapping and forced adoption but I draw the line at making me practice religion 💀 no but seriously, he probably does have certain morals and values he instills/forces upon you if he thinks you need them, and he'll probably be one of those fathers, "are you leaving the house dressed like that? Go change" and orders you not to hang out with certain people he doesn't approve of or thinks have bad character (like hobie lmao)

-bruh you two will be on a super serious important mission and this man will be like "it's dark, hold my hand so we dont get separated"

Eventually it comes to a point where you're, not perfectly behaved but, just about. If someone finds Miguel, it means you're not very far away, or vice versa. Members of the Society quickly learn not to make any advances on you or make any "adult" comments unless they want to get suspiciously hurt during a personal training session by the big boss himself. You think you're safe just cause Miguel isn't around? Nah, cause then you have Peter B and Jess keeping an eye on you, and, not that YOU'RE aware of the extent, but, if Miguel ever gets worried, he can just ask Lyla what you've been getting up to, since your modified little daypass has her installed into it and she can track your every move ❤️ helicopter parent? Oh honey, you have NO idea...

#yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #yandere x reader #yandere spiderverse #yandere stuff #sinprompts

557 notes · View notes

b33zlebubz · 4 months

Text

RECKLESS ABANDON--------

CHAPTER SEVEN - dogfight

TASK FORCE 141 X READER (PLATONIC)

PREV CHAPTER || MASTERLIST || AO3 LINK || NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: gender neutral reader, angst, fluff, slow burn found family, PTSD, trauma bonding, kidnapping, reader is a foster kid in high school, family drama, blood, violence, guns

"After your life falls apart at the seams very early on, you work hard to keep the small amount of peace you still have. Foster care is rough, work is draining, school is a drag...but you eventually find yourself in a good place. All of that quickly goes to waste, however, when your family's unfinished business finally finds its way back to you."

Suddenly, everything is a blur of red lights and yelling and running.

Price ushers you to your room with a stern: "go go go." You grab your pack and shove what you can into it as he guards the door, handgun firm in his grasp as he shouts orders to soldiers as they dart up and down the hallway grabbing gear. Your heart pounds in your ears and you barely have time to zip up your rucksack before he's urging you out again.

Sandwiched between everyone with your head ducked down, you run. Gunshots ring out over your head and under your feet, and you yelp whenever Ghost grabs your arm and yanks you away from a sniper hit just as you're leaving the building; urging you along. Price is yelling. Soap is yelling. Nikolai is with your small group—sharp, Russian orders shouted over the loud buzzing of a helicopter as you're all but pushed inside.

It's off the ground the second your back hits the wall. Suddenly, Price is in front of you again—but you can barely see him through the panic that floods your senses.

"Breathe. Deep breaths, kid. C'mon," he says as he coaxes a headset onto your head. You try to help, but your hands are too shaky. The others are yelling, and Ghost is leaning out of the side of the helicopter as it bobs and dips, returning Shadow Company fire with abandon. The sound, as well as the raspiness of Price's voice, are both muffled by the earphones around your ears until Price's voice comes through on the comms. "You're safe with us. Y'hear me?"

You swallow the bile that threatens to rise in your throat, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to force your breathing to regulate. You nod, but your hands squeeze at his sleeves anyway—knuckles white as you use his presence to ground yourself.

"Okay," you force out. "Y-yeah. I hear you."

"Good. Keep breathin','' he looks over his shoulder to where Ghost, Soap, and Gaz are all fending off the others. "Does anyone have a visual?"

"They've got their own helos after us, sir!" Gaz shouts. "Things might get ugly!"

"Helos?!"

"There's five of 'em!" Soap clarifies, reloading his weapon. His arm is bleeding, but he doesn't seem to notice. "The cunt isn't fucking around this time! It's either we go down, or they do!"

"Yeah, well, that's not fuckin' happening," Price all but growls, bracing you against him as the helocopter lurches to the side. "Give 'em hell!"

"Yes, sir!"

You press yourself back against the wall, watching as everything goes to shit around you. A line of fire dents the wall of the helo right by your head and you yelp. "Price—"

As if on cue, there's an explosion.

You're knocked sideways. Your vision blanks whenever your head hits metal, a ringing in your ears exploding from your senses. In a split second of quick thinking, your hand wraps around a metal railing as the helo tilts. Curses and yells of surprise fill the small space as everyone scrambles to the side.

Except one.

"Soap!"

He slips with a yell and you grab his wrist before he can slip out the side opening. You watch boxes and supplies slide out and into the snow maybe twenty stories below as the Earth below you tilts and spins. Shocked, he looks up to meet your gaze—your eyes meeting his with nothing but sheer panic as he lifts his other arm to grab your wrist in both hands, legs flailing.

Nikolai is quick to right the helo again and you're launched back onto the floor at Soap's side. Disoriented, you pant as your shaky arms pull yourself upright to meet Soap's gaze. He's shocked, eyes wide as he blinks with you—as if he really didn't expect you to save him.

He nods his thanks before Price pulls you to your feet again.

"We lost Gaz!" Nikolai's voice explodes over the comms.

"Fuck's sake!"

"Again?!"

"We'll have to go back—"

"No time!" Nikolai calls over his shoulder. "You want to stay alive—no turning back. Not now."

"Gaz," you huff, scrambling out of Price's hold. "No—no we gotta go back!"

Price grabs you before you can get too close to the opening. "There's no time, kid!"

"We can't leave him behind!"

"We have to!"

You shove yourself free just as there's a loud blast and the helo lurches again. This time, you're too late to grab something.

There's yelling before there's silence. A bright light and the feeling of something large knocking into you before there's nothing but blinding white and bright blue sky. Your headset flies off your head, getting swept away in the wind as you watch the helo spin out of control from afar.

You're falling.

You're screaming, you think, but the ringing in your ears drowns out everything else. Your body spins in the air as you flail and air rushes into your eyes and lungs.

The ground gets closer.

Closer.

Then, your body breaks ice with a smash and everything is loud again. The water roars as the breath is punched from your lungs. You know you should move, flail, kick your legs—but your body doesn't respond. You watch the bubbles fly past the dog tags around your neck as the light of the surface sinks past your fingers.

Calm. Quiet.

Your body goes limp. For the first time in weeks, the panic ebbs way to peace as the freezing cold numbs your senses. You think, maybe, you could sleep like this—silent, undisturbed, as your eyes sink shut and your nerves die.

Then, a hand grabs the front of your jacket, and you're yanked to the surface.

Simon gasps when he breaches the ice with you in his arms. Not that it supplies him with much air to begin with; as the sopping wet cloth of his mask seems to choke him with each breath. Waterboarding, a torture he's grown very familiar with over the years—and it sends an extra surge of adrenaline through his veins that helps him drag you up and onto the ice before climbing up beside you.

He turns on his side and it feels like the world tilts with him as he sputters and coughs up water. The ringing in his ears is bright and loud as it seems to leak into his vision, blurring everything into smudges of white and black that are nearly incomprehensible. Be it blind panic, or just his natural instinct to get up, keep moving—drilled into his brain after years and years of experience—but he shoves himself to his knees anyway.

He hears what sounds like coughing, gagging. Panting. His eyes flit over just as the sharpness in his vision returns and you're the second thing he sees: on your hands and knees, curled in on yourself at his side as you spit bile, blood, and water onto the ice with an arm curled around your stomach. It's then that everything rushes back to him. The alarms, the gunfire, the helo, Price's shouting, the Shadow Company.

He reaches out with a hoarse and quiet: "Kid..."

Your breathing doesn't settle. Instead, it seems to speed up as you scramble backwards and the ice cracks underneath you. Your movements shake, arms and legs dumb, slow, and useless as you force them to move you backwards; away from him. Blood coats your face and your eyes are bleary and unfocussed. He recognizes the look you give him—one of panic, confusion. It's identical to how you looked at him whenever you first met, with a dead man's blood splattered on your clothes.

"No," you mutter, your breath coming in fast puffs. "No no no no."

Simon stumbles over, grabbing your shoulder, "Easy now—"

Startled, you kick him away. "Get off me!"

"Keep your head on, kid, it's me!"

"Fuck off!"

In a split-second decision of disparity, Simon reaches up and yanks off his mask. He grabs your shoulders, keeping you still as you freeze—the figure of your nightmares gone and replaced, instead, by something more human. Something sopping wet and equally as freezing. He watches the fear in your face give way to confusion, and then the confusion give way to shock.

"It's me," he huffs out between breaths, the cold air stinging his skin, "It's me."

He watches your mis-matched pupils scan over his face, the furrow in your brows smoothing over as a rivulet of blood drips down your temple from the gash on your forehead. There’s a split on your lip, too, and all the blood mixes together as it drips off your chin. Simon can’t imagine he looks much better as you take in his facial features for the first time.

Then, he watches your eyelids flutter as your head lulls forwards, and he catches it in his hand.

“Don’t,” he commands, immediately shifting into action again. “Stay with me."

“How…” You rasp as he turns, leaning you against his geared chest to free his hands—each breath fogging up into the freezing air as he keeps you in a sitting position. He reaches for the comm on his shoulder. With shaky hands, he switches through channels until he gets to one that's dead silent. He swallows thickly before he speaks.

“Watcher, this is Bravo 0-7, do you copy?”

The radio sputters. The only thing that greets him is the silence of the snow and your shaky breathing. He tries again, more urgently.

“Ghost to Watcher. We fell out the helo. Kid’s injured bad do you copy?”

Again, silence. Ghost hears your breathing hitch and he purses his lips together. Just as dread begins to settle deep in Ghost’s stomach—a voice comes loud and clear through the speakers.

"Watcher to Ghost. I hear you. Any word on Price?"

You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of Laswell's voice. If Ghost didn’t have a probably-broken rib, he’d do the same.

"No," Ghost grunts. "We fell in a lake. Helo is nowhere in sight."

"Are you injured?"

Ghost tastes copper in his mouth when he breathes. "I'm upright."

"And the kid?"

You go to speak, "I'm fine—"

"Hit and in shock," Ghost interrupts. "Probably concussed."

Then, Price's out-of-breath voice cuts through the comms. There's shuffling and other voices in the background. “Ghost, this is Price. You’re safe?"

This time, Ghost does let out a breath. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. We’ve crashed but Laswell's sent a team out to grab us. We’re coming back for you two, you hear me?”

You grab Ghost's arm, "But Gaz—"

“Loud and clear, sir.” Ghost breathes, “loud and clear.”

“Good man. Get to safety, stay warm. We'll be there A.S.A.P."

"Solid copy."

And, with that, all was silent aside for the sound of you and Ghost's combined breathing. He places a hand on your shoulder, easing you back to look up at him. "You still with me?"

Your eyes squeeze shut. You shake your head as if trying to shake something out of it, your countenance flushed and dazed from the freezing cold. He rubs your shoulders, trying to restore some warmth to your body.

“Keep talkin’. Tell me what hurts.”

“Can't…” You swallow thickly. Your hands fumble to grab at your leg. “Fuck, c-can't think…I can’t…”

“Stand?”

“Yeah.”

"You fell out of a helicopter, Mutt. It would stand to reason if you were a bit shaken,” he huffs, shifting into a kneeling position with his back to you. “On my back. We gotta keep moving.”

The shock fading a little from your system, you slowly push yourself upright enough to settle against his back.

"Mutt?" You question as your arms fall around his neck. His gloved hands grab under your knees, keeping you secured to his back as he hypes himself up to stand.

"That's what Soap called you, ain't it?" He breathes as he stands. "Some mutt the C.I.A. dragged in."

"Don't tell me…don't tell me that's what I'm stuck with now, after all this."

He scoffs a little, righting himself. "What sticks, sticks, kid."

He barely takes a step forwards before his leg unexpectedly gives. You gasp whenever he stumbles, falling to a knee in the snow.

"Bloody hell…"

"Ghost?" You prompt, worried, as he breathes in and out. The world spins sound for a moment, and his eyes go dazed. Your voice, however, pulls him out of it and your bloodied hand tugging at his ruined vest grounds him back to reality. "Ghost if you're shot, we're fucked."

"I'm not hit," he wheezes, a bold-faced lie. He's been hit in the calf in all the chaos, but it missed any major arteries so he chooses to ignore it for now. Instead, he forces himself shakily back to his feet again. He takes a few wobbly steps before he's walking steadily once more, his limbs feeling heavy as they waft through the freezing snow. "Just old. Can't take a fall like I used to."

You let out a breath that fogs up into the air, quivering from the cold as water drips from everything.

“Okay…okay, good,” you breathe, your hold around him tightening. “Where are we going?”

Simon looks up. The cold bites at his bare face and he squints through the eye black and water that clings to his lashes to look up at the snow and the trees around them. He swallows thickly, his mind cycling through S.E.A.R. training as he fights to stay focused, get to safety.

Safety. Shelter.

You needed shelter.

His gaze sweeps the empty forests with a newfound determination now that he has a goal to focus on; something to work towards. His footsteps slow to a stop as he looks around, the only sound in the forest being the crunching of snow and the buzzing of a far-off A-10 that makes his stomach twist.

But you were alive—and that’s all that mattered to him.

So, he picks up his pace. He presses onwards.

“I don’t know,” He huffs. “But we'll find somewhere."

@brokenpieces-72 @warenai @pertinentpostmortem @kaoyamamegami @hayleybarnesx @nostalgialeech @scuftryo @0alk0msan @synthe4u @stunkbiggu @bebobeboben @enfppixie @lyd14k4y @tlkonthestr33t @raye2000 @shinchanboi

#kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #call of duty reader insert #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader

207 notes · View notes

chxrrydrxp · 4 months

Text

𝓃ℴ ℊℴℴ𝒹 (𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓂ℯ)

------

(Jason Todd x fem! Reader)

disclaimers: guys irl please communicate with ur partner 🖤, also jason is being a dick.

------

The apartment was particularly quiet tonight, and you came home from work, stressed, exhausted, and in need of some type of relief. You lazily kicked off your heels and laid on the couch with arm over your eyes, not wanting to be bothered by anyone or anything. The crisp winter air flowed freely from the open window, causing small goosebumps to appear on your arms. It felt like hours went by, but you weren't quite sleep. Your brain flooded with all the stacks of paperwork that sat at your desk, waiting for you the next day.

The door unlocked, and in came Jason, his heavy boots thumping on the wooden floor. You felt a spark of annoyance coarse through your body, remembering that you had countlessly told him to take his shoes off in the hall to prevent him from tracking mud or wet snow in the apartment. Of course this flew over his head, as he laid his crimson helmet on the table.

You remained on the couch, still, as if you didn't want him to know you were awake. He made an observation of your coat, and hung his beside it. He lounged on the couch, running his hands smoothly through his dark hair.

He must've thought you were sleeping by his lack of greeting. That, or he too was stressed from whatever he did on patrols. You shifted a but, then uncovered your eyes. He made quick notice, his eyes gentle. "Hey baby..thought you were sleepin..", his hands grazed over your thigh gently. You groaned, throwing your head back on the armrest.

"You okay?" You wanted to yell at him for laying on the couch with his patrol clothes on. Hell, you wanted to complain about every single thing going wrong in your life, but you knew that wouldn't be fair. You knew it when you noticed the faint circles under his eye. He patiently waited for your response, mindlessly playing with a loose string on your black dress pants.

" I'm fine..tough day at work...," you trailed off.

Then you remembered his dirty boots. You glanced at the spot of dark brown dirt on your gray carpet that lay under the couch and extended to the console table. "Jason..your shoes. Again." You forced yourself to look away to prevent any words you didn't mean from coming out of your mouth. "Remember, you're supposed to put them outside." Usually, he'd curse under his breath and just put them away. Not this time. Instead, he rubbed his forehead tiredly and leaned his head back, a sigh leaving his lips. "I'll get em later..m' tired." You rolled your eyes at him, and stood up, escaping into the kitchen to prevent any more annoying discoveries, like him leaving his helmet on the counter again which was sometimes covered in blood.

"Damn it...Jason we don't have any food, I thought you went shopping yesterday," you exclaimed trying to keep your tone neutral. "Oh..yeah...I forgot." "Jason?" "What?" Your nerves were almost boiling over. "You can't just 'forget'. What are we gonna eat?" The couch creaked as he crawled off and walked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, then sighed again. "We can just order something." You turned to face him, crossing your arms. "Or maybe you can just listen to me when I ask you to do something." He blinked hard at you, closing the fridge. "I'm sorry. It's not like I go out for hours every night and remember hundreds of names, dates, warehouses, whatever the fuck. Can you give me a break?" Your body went stiff and you steadied yourself against the counter.

"This is the 3rd week in a row Jason-" he cut you off, "You work in an office, baby girl. You sit down, and stare at your screen- is it (that) bad?" You clenched your teeth hard, feeling an emotional build-up. "No, Jason. I work with troubled kids in neglected neighborhoods-" You rushed over your words in a fit of anger. "Which you'd know if you ever paid any fucking attention to me!" In the instance of finishing the last word, you felt a wave of embarrassment hit you. His forest green eyes narrowed, and his clenched jaw softened...almost as if he was hurt. "Y/n...", he voiced faintly. You spun on your heel, walking away from him. Jason repeated your name as you went into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

His footsteps approached the door, and he was met with the faint clicking sound of the lock. He scoffed at himself and leaned his back against the door. "Come out y/n..". His command was met with silence. "Baby..please." Your heart broke a little, hearing the pleading in his voice. "Can we talk about this...face to face?" He could imagine you'd just tell him to speak from outside the door. The door opened, causing him to almost fall and you stared up at him, crossing your arms. "Hey..", he whispered lowly, reaching his hands out to touch yours, leaning his body so close, you were almost touching.

His body heat radiated off of him, making you mindlessly lean closer. He held your hands. "Look at me. I don't pay attention to you?" "Well..I didn't mean..", you shifted slightly. "No..I think I heard you correctly," Jason breathily whispered in your ear. "I just meant..." You trailed off. "Yeah?"

His voice rumbled at his throat. You looked everywhere but his eyes. He pinned you to the wall with an intimidating gaze. You hated the way your body reacted to his. Hated how a few minutes ago you wanted to rip his head off and now he has your thighs rubbing together at his mere words.

"Baby you're on my mind 24/7. It's you who always pushes me away as if you can't let yourself enjoy my presence," he teases. You roll your eyes. "Can't take you seriously when you're over here tryna get some friction," he muttered and glanced down. You opened your mouth to deceptively defend yourself but he pressed a finger to your lips. "What, you didn't think I'd notice?"

He hooked his fingers onto the hem of her pants, slowly dipping his hands below to feel her dampness. "You're so wet and needy for me and I (barely) touched you, go on...ask for it." Your eyes flickered away from his. "B-but we have to talk about this Jay. We can't just-" he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. "I know..I know baby" he cooed. "Just lemme me take care of you first.." He searched your eyes for approval, to which you nodded shaky with anticipation. Then he kneeled.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd x fem!reader #ceri drabbles #red hood x reader #jason todd smut

217 notes · View notes

meatonfork · 1 year

Note

Can I request the team maybe finding out grim hordes cute stuff?. Maybe something like plushies or even Sanrio stuff. They might be kinda embarrassed by it since their technically a young adult in the military who’s killed countless people but still collects cute stuff and guards it like a dragon.

Hoarder

————————————————————————————————————————

pairings: platonic 141 x grim

warnings: none, grim being shy

summary: the team finds out grim hoards

————————————————————————————————————————

you knew you shouldn’t be embarrassed by this. it was nothing compared to your job. but, you just couldn’t help it. it truly caused you to cave in on yourself.

you had been on a solo mission. just some quick intel gathering. it went fairly smoothly, and you were back at base in no time.

you were awfully tired, though. ready to crash in your bed, and sleep the next day away.

all you wanted to do was cuddle up with your stuffed animals, and get some well deserved sleep.

but, there was a change in plans. you had stopped by the commons to say goodnight to your team, but the sight you saw made you pause in your steps.

your duffel bag slipped from your hands as they came to cover your mouth in shock.

a bright red dusted your features, ears a stark pink.

“oh- hey guys, haha” your voice was sheepish, a small, uneasy smile on your face.

“what’s going on..?”

“grim. why the hell do you have all these stuffed animals? they cover the whole couch!” gaz’s voice was higher pitched, an effort not to laugh straight in your face.

the guys, save from ghost, had amusement dancing on their features.

“no, because this is really embarrassing. you weren’t supposed to know. how did you even find them?” you shrieked. you rushed forward to try to scoop them all up, but there were just too many. some fell to the floor, right out of your arms.

the bun your hair was in started to come lose from your frantic efforts.

“grim, you’re an adult. why do you have them?” price almost sounded disappointed, but he was too busy laughing to actually play the part of disappointed dad.

“look, this is embarrassing. i’m killer. but i can’t help it! they’re so cute! i get them when we go on missions. just- stuff ‘em in my pack.” you made a stuffing motion with your hand.

“now, will you please help me take these back to my room?”

ghost stepped forward, grabbing a small black cat plushie, and squeezed it lightly, “i like this one..”

“oh! yeah, keep it!” you beamed up at him.

“aye, i wan’ one!” soap rushed forward, gaz right behind him.

they helped you put them back, soap and gaz grabbing their favorite ones.

you finally relaxed, laid out on all your stupid little stuffed animals. you reached over and grabbed a little otter. his face was so fluffy.

you purses your lips. you gave a small hum.

“price never got one…”

you jumped out of bed, otter in hand, and made your way to price’s office.

price was sat at his desk, head in hand, filling out paperwork. a soft knock rang out.

“yeah, come in!”

the door opened softly, your face peaking through the slight opening.

“hey, cap. can i come sit?” your voice was soft. the faint smell of a cherry vanilla cigar danced around the room.

“‘course.”

“i brought you this! you never got one. didn’t want you to feel left out or anything… he kinda looks like ya. the eyes, man. it’s definitely the eyes.” you let out a huff of laughter.

you stuck your hand out, the otter looking back up at price.

his soft eyes looked from the small plush otter, and back up to you.

his hand went out and grabbed the stuffed animal.

“huh. i guess it kinda does look like me. thanks kid.” his head turned back up to you, a kind smile on his face.

“yeah. of course! no problem, cap. i’ll see you tomorrow.” you make your way to the door.

“hey, kid.”

your hand paused on the door, half way out of the room already, “yeah?”

“sleep well, yeah?”

you nod, “yeah.”

you give a smile, and made your way to bed.

————————————————————————————————————————

a/n: thank you for reading, stinks <3

2K notes · View notes

kimpossibly · 1 year

Text

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART ONE: drummers' curse

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of minor injuries (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies in advance for making Y/n the drummer and putting Warren on rhythmic guitar. I just loooooooove female drummers. Also can you tell that I love Karen and Camila? Because I love them with alllllll my heart and soul. Another sorry in advance because this one may break your heart a little ― it sure broke mine. NOTES ON THE WORK: I used the timeline from the book, mostly because I couldn't keep track of it in the show haha. I read the book twice before watching what episodes of the show were out, so the lines may blur between the two. For your convenience (and mine, tbh), I'll put the year all the characters were born underneath this note so you can reference it when you need to. I just couldn't keep track honestly. I think in the show they start the band when Graham is fourteen, but in the book he's around 18 when they add Warren on, so it's kind of confusing?? I decided to stick with the book because it was a more physical timeline. Anyways, enough talking, here's your guide! ― YEARS BORN (in order of age) Billy Dunne -> 1947 Camila Dunne -> 1949 Graham Dunne -> 1949 Warren Rhodes -> 1949 Eddie Roundtree -> 1949 Daisy Jones -> 1951 Y/n L/n -> 1951

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a terminal illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

It's no secret that the renowned 1970s band Daisy Jones & The Six went through its fair share of ups and downs. Until their inexplicable split on July 12, 1979, they were undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world. While a more detailed account of the band's history will be recounted in a more thorough transcript, this advanced edition will focus specifically on two of the band members: Eddie Roundtree and Y/n L/n. More specifically, it will focus on their individual and combined roles they played in the band's eventual downfall.

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1965 - 1972)

GRAHAM: Y/n grew up next door to us. She was a little younger, two years or so, so we never really gave her a second look. Until the day she wandered into our garage during band practice out of nowhere. She practically ripped the drum sticks out of Chuck's hand and just started...wailing on 'em. I mean, she could make your head spin. Here was this thirteen, fourteen year old girl next door, this kid, and she was the best fuckin' drummer we'd seen. I mean, in the neighborhood. She wasn't Mitch Mitchell, but she was the closest thing we had. And she was too good to be shoved in the back with a tambourine. But we couldn't just take Chuck's spot away and hand it over to the new girl.

CHUCK: I knew right then and there that they wanted to give my spot to the new girl. There was no doubt in my mind. And, you know what? I got it. This chick was good. Way too good. Did I feel threatened by her? Hell yeah, I did. And at the time I probably wanted to tell her to screw off, but now...now I get it.

EDDIE: She was good. Amazing, actually. Graham and I looked at each other and knew that she was something we'd be stupid to pass up on.

BILLY: When Chuck told us he wanted out, we were pissed, of course. We were heading off to open for Winters that week. It felt like things were going to look up, just like I always knew they would, and he was ditching. I know now that that wasn't really what it was ― he'd gotten into college, fan-fucking-tastic. It was a good opportunity for him, a sure thing. But right then it felt like a betrayal.

WARREN: So he ditched, and Billy just turned right to Eddie and said, "Go tell Y/n she's in." And he was just...terrified.

EDDIE: I said, "why me?" You know? It wasn't my band, it was Billy's. And here he was, ordering me to tell some new girl she was in. I was fifteen and could barely ask a waitress for ketchup. At the time, that was probably the last thing I wanted to do.

GRAHAM: He asked why it had to be him, and I told him the truth: he was the least intimidating. Billy, you know him. He had a tendency to get too focused on the task at hand and could get a little...harsh. And Warren? He had one of the biggest personalities you could find. He'd scare her off before we had a chance to offer her the spot...[Pauses] I probably could've done it, in all honesty. I just didn't want to screw it up. Eddie was better with words than I was, and we needed her in our band. Badly.

EDDIE: And I remember thinking, "Here goes fucking nothing."

The doorbell ringing was what got her attention. No one ever used the doorbell. It was always a knock ― that, or someone just walked in. The L/n's front door was hardly ever locked back then. Y/n's mom was a nurse, formerly a school nurse. She didn't want to risk the chance that some kid took a spill and had to limp home on an injured leg. So all the neighborhood knew, if you got hurt playing outside, you could march on over to Miss L/n's place to get yourself fixed up.

Y/n had her own share of walk-ins, too. By the time she was ten, she had seen her mom help out enough kids that she was practically a nurse herself. She could disinfect and bandage and stitch up any old case that walked through her front door. And if someone who was too busted up for first aid? She knew where the keys to the family Winnebago was and how to drive herself and them to the local hospital. She was only fourteen and didn't have a license, but it didn't matter. She was a safer driver than most everyone else on the road.

So when someone rang the doorbell, she assumed that it was someone too injured to knock. She grabbed the car keys and made sure her suture kit was within reach.

When she opened the door, she didn't see the blood and broken bones she was expecting. Instead, Eddie Roundtree stood on her front porch, hands shoved anxiously in his pockets. He looked all right, but that didn't stop her from asking: "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Um. No," Eddie said quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Y/n turned and walked further into the house, prompting him to close the door and follow her. She led him to the kitchen. "Lemonade? I made it this morning," she offered, already opening the fridge.

EDDIE: That jug of lemonade was bigger than she was. [Laughs] I could barely watch her get it down. I was afraid she'd drop it on her foot. But she just took her time getting it from the fridge to the table. I found out later that her mom bought a pound of lemons a week because Y/n wanted something to offer every kid that came through their front door. [Pauses]. She was just like that.

He gave a nod. Y/n stood on her toes to grab two glasses from the cabinet. She poured one glass, hands shaking from the weight of the jug, and Eddie realized that this awkward silence was probably the best time to transition into his real reason for visiting.

"Chuck left the band."

"Oh," she said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

She paused, looking confused. And Eddie, who's will to live was slowly draining from this conversation alone, raced to finish what he had (awkwardly) started.

"I just mean that...you're in. The band. If you want to be our drummer, you're in."

Y/n paused mid-pour, setting the pitcher down on the counter carefully. She turned around until her back pressed into the kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest. "And you thought I'd jump at the chance to join?"

"No. No," Eddie said quickly. "We just wanted to offer you the spot if you still wanted it."

"Did I say that I wanted it?"

"No, but―"

"Okay, just making sure," she handed him a glass and hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. "So you need a drummer?"

"Yes. Badly."

She took a sip from her glass and paused, as if weighing her options in her mind. She swallowed. "Are there any other girls in the band yet?"

EDDIE: Yet. Like she knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.

"No, not yet." he replied.

"Then be honest with me: are you guys sleazeballs?"

EDDIE: Sleazeballs. She didn't sugarcoat things. She wanted to know if we were creeps or if we'd let her play drums in peace. I get that, one hundred percent. but back then, it felt like she was trying to accuse us of something.

"No," he said quickly, "Well...Warren can be a little much, but he means well."

She took another slow sip, once again weighing her options in her mind. "When's your next gig?"

"We play pretty much every night, wherever we can find. It might take us a bit to teach you the songs, but―"

"I can learn them," she said confidently. "How soon do you need someone?"

"Soon as possible."

EDDIE: By then, I was terrified she'd say no. All these questions and never once did she seem really interested in joining. I was already trying to figure out which of us would be the least shit at the drums.

"Okay. I'm in."

EDDIE: And that was it. She said yes. I didn't appreciate how much she'd saved our asses right then, but I was relieved. That was for sure.

GRAHAM: Eddie came back, told us she said yes. She couldn't join practice until her mom got home ― she didn't want the house to be empty if some injured kid wandered by ― so we had about an hour and a half to teach her every song.

BILLY: She picked 'em up like [snaps] that. Never doubted it for a single second, either. Once she knew it, she knew it.

EDDIE: She showed up to the first gig in overalls and sneakers. She let Camila put a little makeup on her, too, but we could all tell she hated it.

CAMILA: She was sweet. And, surprisingly, a little shy. I could tell she was a little scared of the boys. That's why she was a little cold to them at first. But she was just the coolest kid. I mean, fourteen years old and joining a rock band? She was a little rockstar, right off the bat. She asked me to put some makeup on her before her first gig with the band. When I gave her a mirror after and asked her what she thought, she said, "I like it, but it makes me feel like a doll. Not a drummer." She liked the glitter the most, though. It became her trademark. She put it on her cheeks, in her hair, everywhere that would catch the light. She'd come off stage and you'd see a little pile of sparkles behind the drum set.

EDDIE: Right off the bat, first gig. It was enough to freak anyone out. She joined the band six hours ago, learned the songs three hours ago, and now she was playing in a club to a couple dozen people. It seems so small now, but back then? It was like starting at Wembley.

Y/n shook out her hands for the eighth time. It wasn't about loosening up for the gig anymore, she just needed something to do that didn't involve throwing a punch or screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked up at Billy, standing at the front of the group, cool and calm as ever, and she had the distinct urge to kick him in the shin. Why did he get to be so calm when she was right behind him, on the verge of throwing up?

She turned to anxiously twisting a single drum stick between her fingers, around and around, faster and faster. Eventually it became so mindless that she barely noticed as the stick slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But, of course, someone did.

"Hey," Eddie said, looking back at her.

"Warren knocked it out of my hands." she said quickly.

Eddie glanced over at Warren, who was a solid two feet ahead of her, physically unable to have knocked a drum stick out of her hands. Y/n knew from that glance that he could see right through her lie. Now she really wasn't in the mood to talk.

EDDIE: She was terrified. And she was lying her ass off about it. I didn't want to run the risk that she choked up in the middle of the show and screwed up our set. So I figured I'd just, talk. And if she wanted me to screw off, she'd tell me. She had a way of saying exactly what she wanted.

"You've heard of the Drummer's Curse, right?" he asked.

She frowned in a way that told him no, she did not.

"First, there's the obvious stuff: drummers have to lug around the most shit out of anyone in the band. Drums sets are heavy and expensive, so there's that. But the worst part is that they're easy to overlook, you know? They're at the back of the stage behind all this shit, everyone stands in front of 'em. Drummers can fade into the background real easy. The best drummers can outshine anyone else onstage. You'll do that one day, but if you're freaked out now, just let yourself fade a little. You'll play better than anyone up there and the crowd'll know it, but you can let them focus on someone else if you want. You get what I'm saying?"

EDDIE: For a second, I thought she was going to punch me.

But then she nodded, wiped off some of the pink lipstick Camila had put on her with the back of her hand, and pushed her bangs to the side. "Drummers' Curse, huh?"

"Some people believe in it, some don't."

"And you?" she asked, turning to him. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff?"

Eddie paused. Shrugged. "Sure. Seems true enough to me."

Y/n nodded. "I don't. It sounds like bullshit to me."

Eddie frowned. She looked up at him. "I'm not going to let myself fade because I'm scared. I signed up for this, you know. The least I can do is own my place. If I outshine you, it's just because I'm that good," she said matter-of-factly. "I will need help carrying the stuff, though."

EDDIE: I didn't know what to say. I mean, [laughs] what the hell do you say to that?

He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him. And then, he surprised himself: he laughed.

And Y/n surprised herself then, too ― she smiled.

EDDIE: That was just...[Shakes head. Smiles.] I don't know.

"I think we can manage that." he said with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen...The Dunne Brothers!"

WARREN: If I were still the guy I was back then, I would completely undersell her to you right now. I'd tell you she was an average drummer who was more in it for the thrill than the craft. But that wasn't it at all. She got up there and she just...shined.

GRAHAM: We all knew she'd be scared before the first gig. In fact, she looked about ready to throw up when they announced us on stage. But the second she hit those lights, it was like she was a different person. She waved and smiled like she'd done it a hundred times. The only other person I'd seen do that ― I mean really become another person on stage ― is Billy.

BILLY: That first show with Y/n was a little bit of a trainwreck. We were at least a half beat behind the entire show. And I'm not saying I blame her, but she was new and shiny. We got through it just fine, but I think we all felt it wasn't our best show.

WARREN: That show was bitchin'.

GRAHAM: It was a great show.

WARREN: Back in those days, we'd get off stage and start cheering for ourselves like we'd just won the goddamn lottery. Somewhere along the way, that stopped. We'd just pat each other on the back, say 'good job,' and that was that. But when Y/n got backstage? She was screaming and yelling like it was the best night of her life. And all of us joined in without a second thought ― well, maybe all of us except Billy. He was kind of a hard ass, even then. None of us had ever heard this girl talk louder than a glorified whisper, and then she came out of nowhere with this full-body scream. And who did she run to? Well, I think you can guess.

CAMILA: She just about jumped into Eddie's arms.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. For one, the effect is had on different people can be vastly different depending on who it was. Some people mellowed out, some people amped up. Y/n fell into the second category.

The second she got off the stage, a giddy laugh ripped from her chest, turning more into a scream of triumph halfway through. She was buzzing. Literally. Her hands felt numb ― or, more accurately, they felt like they felt more. Everything she touched was sharp and blinding.

The next person to join in on the screaming and jumping around was Warren. Then Graham. Then Eddie. And then, reluctantly, Billy. Eddie was the last to come off stage, slinging his guitar off his shoulders, and Y/n, without thinking much about it, ran straight to him, leaping directly into his unsuspecting arms.

The others were too hyped up on their own adrenaline rushes to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She wrapped her legs around his waist hanging onto him like a koala. And Eddie, who couldn't deny adrenaline, held onto her back without a second thought.

After a moment, she leaned back, arms still wrapped around his neck, faces inches apart. "Drummers' curse, huh?"

EDDIE: She didn't fade. She couldn't, not even if she tried.

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like bullshit to me."

#daisy jones and the six #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the six fanfiction #daisy jones & the six fanfiction #eddie loving #eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree x reader

910 notes · View notes

themultifandomgal · 10 months

Text

Shelby Sister- Troublesome Twins Pt2

I was asked to do a part 2. So here it is!

Since Finn getting shot, YNs brothers have been even more protective than normal. She's finding it harder to see her boyfriend since Tommy has basically put her on house arrest. YN had been sneaking out during the night to meet Isaiah under the bridge by the cut. Then one day Isaiah asked YN to marry him, she of course said yes, but there's no way her brothers would allow that. So they made the decision to run off, with the help of Finn since he's the only one not to try and control YN's life. Now they're returning home, YN hoping her brothers don't go mad and Isaiah hoping her brothers don't kill him.

"There they are" Finn smiles walking over to them as the get off the train "the happy couple. Welcome back" Finn envelopes his twin before shaking Isaiah's hand

"So how bad will it be?"

"Well Arthur probably will shout, Tommy might have both your heads and Ada well she'll find all of this hilarious" Finn says pulling away

"Looking forward to it" Isaiah sighs

"Just don't tell 'em that your havin a kid because I think that will give 'em a heart attack"

"Well I'm not not for a while"

"Good. You hear that Isaiah. I may approve of you and my sister but no babies us till your like 30" this makes Isaiah and I laugh.

We arrive at the Garrison where I know Finn has gathered everyone

"You ok?" Isaiah asks before we step foot into the pub

"Should be asking you that" I chuckle taking Isaiah's hand in mine "but yes. May as well get this over and done with" I take a deep breath and open the doors immediately seeing it empty apart from my family sat at a large table. Everyone looks at us walking in

"Where the fuck have you been YN?" Arthur yells slamming his drink down

"Let the girl sit down first" Ada says, I give her a little smile in reply. I drag Isaiah over to the table and take a seat next to Polly. Tommy just stares at me while Arthur drinks. Michael sits smoking a cigarette looking between Tommy and I

“So” tommy finally speaks “want to tell us where you were?”

“Errm ok so” I play with my ring nervously under the table “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I knew you would go mad”

“Spit it out” Arthur grunts

“Isaiah and I got married” I quickly say

“You bloody what?!” Arthur yells

“Finn did you know?”

“Yes, but Tom….”

“You went behind my back”

“I warned you Tommy. I told you Isaiah and I would get married one day with or without your permission”

“Are your pregnant?” Micheal asks

“No I’m not bloody pregnant”

“Then why marry so young”

“Maybe because they love each other” Ada says in my defence, but Tommy scoffs

“They’re kids”

“I’m 21 Tommy. I’m an adult I know what I’m doing” I yell at my brother

“No you don’t YN! What if he fucks another woman? What if he hurts you? He’s going to break your heart. Fuck YN I know what men his age do, hell men my age fuck around while married”

“Just ‘cause you all cheated on your wife’s doesn’t mean Isaiah will”

“Ok I think we need to calm down” aunt Polly tries

“No you know what this was a mistake. Maybe we should have stayed in London maybe I should have made you think I was dead because clearly you’d prefer that than me being married and happy!” I yell one last time “come on Is we’re going” I stand up pulling Isaiah with me. We begin walking out when Isaiah stops, turning around to face my brothers

“You know, I actually really love YN. I respect her as a person, she’s my equal and I will do everything in my power to keep her safe and provide for her and hopefully our kids in the future. I know YN will want you all apart of that, but I guess it’s your choice” Isaiah places his arm around my waist as we walk out of the garrison

“Thank you Is”

“Always”

I groan getting out of bed after hearing multiple knocks on the door and Polly shouting for me. Isaiah and I have been staying with Polly before we try and find our own home. I wrap my dressing gown around my body and make my way downstairs when I see Tommy and Arthur stood at the door

“What do you want?” I ask folding my arms

“You were right” I raise my eyebrows at Tommy. He never apologises

“Continue”

“You told me you would marry him”

“We’re just worried about you” Arthur finally says “we don’t want you hurt. Your our little sister. The baby of the family”

“I’m not a baby anymore. Neither is Finn. I appreciate that you want to keep me safe but I can handle myself and now I have Isaiah, well I guess I’ve always had him. I’m happy and I promise if Isaiah ever does anything to hurt me I will tell you”

“Can we come in?” Tommy asks

“Best ask Poll. I’ll go and get dressed and get Isaiah up”

“Just promise me 1 thing… no babies yet. I don’t think I can handle that as well”

“Ok” I chuckle responding to Tommy.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #finn shelby imagine #isaiah jesus #isaiah jesus x oc #isaiah jesus x y/n #isaiah jesus imagine #isaiah jesus x reader #sister shelby #finn shelby #shelby sister

271 notes · View notes