#there were about twenty pictures after this of him getting behind the camera and moving it around while trying to pull it off the tree | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nanivinsmoke · 6 days

Text

Picture Perfect

just want to apologize for not posting in a while, I was recovering from an illness .

toji f. & shiu k. x f!reader

we all want to be stuffed by these two, right?

summary : your two hot older neighbors agree to stuff you on camera, a viral sensation.

warnings and tags : rough fucking, age gap (readers in her early twenties, the other two late thirties), blow jobs, multiple orgasms, spit play, smoking, porn (making it duh), some anal, nipple play, boob jobs, degradation, etc…

“hello everyone,” you spoke to your webcam, waving at your viewers that were currently tuned in with your livestream. you grabbed a claw clip that was on your desk, putting your hair up before continuing.

“today’s stream is going to be very interesting. remember those two neighbors i was telling you guys about? how i was fantasizing about them fucking me? well, today’s the day!” you said with a giggle, teasing yourself through you ruby red laced bra.

you had been a camstar for a year now and your page was doing really good. at first you were really nervous about showing your face and body to a bunch of random people, but when you got the hang of it; it became natural and unnerving. you only showed from your lips, downward and would blur out the rest of your face and any guests you would be having on the stream. you were making bank, this was a good source of extra income.

you grew really popular, starting off with just some solo play before collaborating with other cam stars, who you became really close with—to now, about to fuck your hot neighbors. they were all for it when you asked them a few days ago, as they have been wanting to fuck the shit out of you for the longest.

the two of them were tired of getting stiff boners watching you walk through the apartment complex, bending over to pick up packages or simply jogging around in your small little outfits; while they shared their daily cigarette. and just like they watched you, you watched them. toji, the one with those hypnotizing green eyes, lived right next door to you; and you could hear everything that went on in his place—and you knew what how good he was.

as for shiu, he lived across the hall from the both of you and would always be at his best friend toji’s house. you weren’t strangers, but after today you would be more than acquaintances.

“when are you gonna stop talking to that camera and come over here, so we could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours?” toji’s deep—panty wetting voice alerted you and your plump lips contorted into a smile. “mmm, can’t keep them waiting. enjoy the show~” you reached behind and unclasped your bra, showing off your plump breasts—before getting up from your plush seat.

sashaying over to your bed, where the two half–naked men awaited, you kicked off your heels and joined them on your king sized bed; pulling toji into a kiss while you reached over and palmed shiu through his briefs. the kiss immediately became hot and sloppy as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, dominating you with ease. freeing shiu from his underwear, you stroked him—his precum sticking to your hand as you moved.

he grunted as he watched you give him the best hand job he had ever received. your manicured hand was soft and your grip around his thick eight inches had him bucking his hips up; wanting more. breaking away from your kiss with toji, you used your one free hand to pull off your soaked panties, tossing it aside; before squatting down on toji’s clothed bulge.

“not wasting any time, are we? guess we really gotta fuck you good now” toji chuckled, grabbing you by your plush thighs and hoisting you onto his face; planting your wet cunt onto his scarred lips—which made you lose your grip on shiu’s cock. a loud moan left your tongue, as toji swirled his on your throbbing clit—sucking and slurping on the swollen bud; your eyes closing shut from the pleasure. but, you had completely forgotten about shiu. that is until you felt his fat tip being smacked onto your plump lips.

his precum became smeared on your lips as he rubbed himself on your mouth, before pushing his way inside of your warm—wet mouth. “shit..” he breathed out while you didn’t hesitate to slobber all over his girth, your moans vibrating against him while toji continued to pleasure you with his tongue.

you started off with using one hand to grip shiu’s cock while you frenched it, tongue swirling around his tip and underneath his cock—causing a low moan to leave his mouth. the way your mouth felt was so euphoric for him. the way your cheeks puffed up and suctioned as you took him, the way your sex filled eyes were brimming with tears and the way spit pooled out the corners of your mouth; had driven him to insanity.

your eyes widened even more when you felt shiu’s big hands grip the sides of your head and push you further onto his cock, making his tip hit the back of your mouth; stuffing you completely. he didn’t let you get used to his roughness, he slammed his hips into your chin; fucking your mouth to his liking.

“yeah, take it like a good little slut—fuck, no hands.” your hands fell to your sides while he proceeded to make a mess out of your mouth. he was so rough, it made your head spin. the more he pumped his fat dick inside, the more your desire increased and everything about his cock turned you on. the smell, the taste and the shape made you hornier; and your throat slowly relaxed—allowing him to push himself deeper inside.

your face was so fucked out and sloppy, coated with slobber as he continued to make your mouth his personal fuck toy. some might find this to be dirty, but he found it arousing—so arousing that he was going to cum real soon, and you knew it too. your clit was pulsating uncontrollably in toji’s mouth. your sweet juices flowing out and into his mouth while he happily lapped them up, dipping his tongue in and out of your hole; building up your orgasm as well.

you couldn’t help but moan and grind your hips on his face, adding some more stimulation to your clit. “shit, y/n—g’na cum in that pretty little mouth,” and a few seconds later he did. he painted the inside of your mouth white, the taste and the warmth only made you want to swallow it and hopefully milk him for more. you wanted to keep sucking, but he pulled out of you with a pop. finally able to breathe right, you gasped and let out a loud moan, as toji sucked on your clit hard; causing you to cum right on his mouth.

“oh f-fuck!~” toji gripped the fat of your ass while you grinded against him, cumming hard all over his face. licking every last bit of your cum, toji pulled you off of his face and pressed his lips onto yours—the mixture of your cum and shiu’s swirled around in your mouths—before the two of you separated, breathless.

shiu immediately grabbed you by your hips and placed you near the edge of the bed where he was standing at, pushing you into the doggystyle position. the sight of your ass was beyond sexy and he couldn’t help but dive his face in between your cheeks, his tongue and the hairs of his mustache tickled you, but it still felt so good. mewls spilled out of your mouth as shiu licked from your ass all the way down to your clit, sending you into a frenzy.

you never been pleased like this before and having your ass ate was such a new, thrilling experience and you craved more. you rocked your hips back onto his face, the fat of your ass smothering him which he loved. it was no doubt that shiu was an ass man.

while shiu pleased you from the back, toji decided to see how good your head game was. “how good is it?” toji asked his best friend, when he finally came up from air, alluding to your mouth. “way too damn good, toj. and fuck her mouth hard, she loves that.” hearing his best friend’s approval, the raven haired male pushed his fat—leaking tip into your mouth, groaning at the feeling.

his dick was so much fatter than shiu’s, your cheeks were spread past its normal size due to his thickness. he tasted so good too, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head, sucking him like it was an ice pop on a hot sunny day. “too fucking good….shit, this bitch is g’na make me cum already,” toji grunted, pulling himself out of your mouth, so he wouldn’t cum too early before he could fuck your mouth like he wanted.

“told you,” shiu spoke before he stood up from his spot and grabbed his head, pushing it into your slick coated entrance. you couldn’t help but gasp as he stretched you out, which resulted in choking on toji’s cock. “dick too big mama, hm?—it’s alright, you can take it,” toji coached, one of his hands resting on your throat while he restarted to make a mess out of your mouth.

you were in pure bliss while the two men filled both sides of you. your cunt was drenched with your juices and your mouth ached in a way that you found pleasure in. these men were going to break you and you were loving every bit of it.

the pornographic sounds of shiu’s balls smacking your wet cunt, along with the slurping sounds you were making; filled the room the more the two men pounded both of your ends. your live stream was going crazy. it was dinging each time someone joined and subscribed; they were enjoying seeing you get dominated by two older men, and you were as well.

and that’s when you smelled the pungent smell of nicotine. you looked up at toji and saw a cigarette in his mouth, before he took a pull from it and reached over to hand it to shiu. the two of them were smoking while they ravaged you, and you couldn’t help but get turned on from it. “oh? did this just turn you on? seeing us smoke, while we fucked you?” shiu sent a smack to your ass, causing you to moan which vibrated around toji’s eight inches.

“you like that mama? here~” toji removed his cock from your mouth and blew some smoke in it, before a wad of his spit followed along with it. you swallowed it and moaned, sticking out your tongue for more; which made the male chuckle. “so fucking nasty,” he let out another drop into your mouth and shoved his cock right back in, his tip hitting the back of your mouth repeatedly.

shiu could feel how much your walls were clenching around him crazily and knew you were close, “cum for daddy baby, let daddy see how much this pretty pussy cums.” and it didn’t take much for you to let go afterwards. a few more hard strokes with his tip hitting your spot, you creamed around his dick—eyes rolling back in your head as you did. “shit—look so damn sexy when you cum….g’na cum too~” toji breathed out before he emptied his balls into your mouth, with you swallowing his load immediately after.

a trail of spit mixed with his cum followed once he pulled out and you let out a series of moans when you felt shiu’s cock repeatedly slam into your cunt—still sensitive from cumming. a warm filling sensation followed shortly, making your womb feel full with his cum before he pulled out as well.

you laid there breathless, stuffed with cum and a sore aching mouth; until you were flipped over onto your back—being met with toji’s green eyes once more. “my turn~,” he said with a smirk plastered onto his face, before he aligned his tip with your entrance and pushed himself in.

you couldn’t believe it. you were about to have your third orgasm for the night and you were completely fucked out and cock drunk. your cunt gushed as toji pounded into you, his cock stretching you and hitting your g-spot with each stroke. your hair was sweated out and all over the place, but you didn’t care—it was just another sign you were being fucked good.

shiu on the hand was playing with your tits. showing your hard sensitive buds some attention, leaning down to lick on them; while his cock brushed onto one of them. the stimulation sent jolts of electricity to your clit and you loved the feeling from it. “again…mmm do it some again”

“where’s your manners, princess?” toji asked, spanking your clit; earning a whimper from you. “please….do it—….again, daddy~.” you locked eyes with shiu and he smirked, before he rubbed his cock against your nipples some more. “good girl”

you were overstimulated to say the least and you could feel your orgasm coming, the two of them were close behind as well. “think she can squirt?” toji asked his best friend, keeping his finger in your clit while he pounded you. shiu looked at your fucked out face and smirked, “definitely.” and he didn’t waste no time in trying to get you to squirt. he thumb swirled on your clit, while his strokes became harder; your orgasm coming at you hard.

“im cumming—im cumming!” you repeated, eyes rolling back into your head as you did and just like shiu said, a stream of clear liquid left your cunt—drenching toji and the sheets beneath you.

“fuck, that was hot. g’na cum too” shiu began stroking his cock, keeping his left hand on one of your breasts—before he painted them with a thick coat of white. and soon, toji was right behind the both of you. after a few more sloppy, hard strokes, your womb was filled once again—tummy full with both of their seeds.

you laid there dazed and out of breath, while shiu stroked your hair and lit up another cigarette. toji sat on the bed and began to massage your sensitive legs, so they wouldn’t be too sore the next day.

“good job mama. maybe next time we could do this again”

and you would definitely take him up on his offer, fucking them on and off camera again.

307 notes · View notes

wcters · 19 days

Text

𝗣𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗜𝗗𝗦

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

summary: after your breakup with matt, you go through polaroids and memories

warnings/notes: angsttt, established relationship, don’t know what came outta me with this one, never even been in a relationship, almost cried writing this

You dreaded this moment from the time you two broke up. You didn't want to solidify that choice by packing his things away, but it had been long enough and you finally realized that you two were actually over. You never thought that this would happen, at least this early. You thought if you were to break up, it would be in your mid-thirties . . . Not your early twenties.

You didn't know what happened either - when it started to change. You didn't even notice, but Matt did. He always noticed everything, every little thing. Maybe you were too blinded by your love to see it, too blinded by the denial that things were getting bad. But you didn't think they were.

Matt made you a new person, a happier person. You fell head over heels for him the moment you started to get to know him, and he did too. He got you out of your comfort zone, you made new friends including his brothers, and had a second family. His brothers always said that you could still visit them and their parents, but it felt weird. You weren't . . . Part of it anymore. Nick and Chris were still your friends, but his parents and Justin were their family. Even though Marylou, Jimmy, and Justin said the same things Nick and Chris did, it still felt weird to you. Eventually when Matt would get another girlfriend and move on, you would be pushed out either by Matt . . . Or yourself.

You sniffled as you put the last of his sweaters you had stolen in the cardboard box that you were going to drop off while he wasn't home, you turned to the last memory of him you were avoiding taking down . . . Your Polaroids.

It was no secret that you loved cameras ━━ having a Polaroid all your life, your first one being a vintage one gifted to you from your parents, and when you grew up you probably spent hundreds ━━ if not thousands ━━ of dollars on film and film cameras. Your bedroom in your hometown was littered with photos of everything - friends, family, places, and your bedroom at your apartment now was the same . . . But half of them were either you and Matt, or just Matt.

To you, he was made for being on camera. He was made for art. You always told him that resulting in a blush on his cheeks. Whether it was paintings, photos, videos, there was something about him. You were drawn to taking pictures of him. There were probably hundreds on your phone only. But your favourite camera to take pictures of him on was your Polaroid.

You stared at the wall for awhile before taking a deep breath and moving towards it. Each picture was a memory of your relationship, each picture was a reminder of a smile sir a laugh, a joke or a kiss, something you didn't want to forget . . . But wanted to at the same time. Taking each one of these down was going to force you to relive each and every one. You didn't know if that was good or bad.

The first one hanging up was one of the first Polaroids you had ever taken of Matt. It was the night he had asked you to be his girlfriend. You could remember the shake of his hands and the smile on his face as he asked you. You don't know why he was nervous ━━ you would've said yes if he asked you to marry him. He was sat in the drivers seat, one hand on the wheel and other leaning against the center console. It was when he was stopped at a red light as to not cause the two of you to crash. You remember him facing you and chuckling, asking what you were doing. You had shrugged, small smirk on your face.

The second one was a picture of you and Matt from behind. Nick had taken it secretly knowing you would want it, and because he thought it was cute. You, Matt, Nick, and Chris had went to the beach that night. You were visiting Boston and their parents with them for the summer. You had taken your camera, planning to take some pictures for the boys and for yourself, but decided to watch the sunset with Matt because he asked you to. You were standing in the middle of the beach, hands interlinked with Matt's who were wrapped around you waist. You were leaning against him as you watched the sun, but unknown to you he was looking at you and not the sun. This was one of your favourite pictures you had.

The next one was arguably one of your favourites too. You had a hard time falling asleep sometimes, and ever since you were a kid you would go on walks. Whether it be around the block or around town, you would just walk. It was safer to do this back in your hometown, but when you started to do it in LA, Matt always asked to come with you to make sure you were safe. No matter how tired he was or if he had a long day, he would go. He would even convince you to go when he knew you wanted to even though you were saying you didn't to make sure he got his sleep. He didn't care, just wanted to make sure you were okay.

This one was of Matt under a streetlight. The light was shining on him, showing his Levi's as he body was midway through dancing. He decided to play music that night to cheer you up because that day was especially stressful for you and the lack of sleep wasn't helping. You don't even know if he knows you took a picture of him. You think this photo shows how Matt truly is. How he's still a teenager deep down inside and how he did anything to cheer you up.

You teared up when you saw the next one. You didn't want to add this to the pile of photos, so you decided to put it in your nightstand instead of hiding it. Why? Because it was a picture of you, and all three brothers. You and Matt were in the middle with Nick and Chris on either side of you both. You were all wearing matching pyjamas, curtesy of Marylou. This was the first year you spent Christmas with them back in Boston. You remember being so nervous, but being welcomed by their parents and Justin immediately. You couldn't make it to see your parents back in Canada, so they offered for you to come down there.

The smiles on each of your faces are a perfect representation of how happy you were. Even with all the best friends and a couple other relationships you had had, you never felt truly excepted into someone else's family. You didn't have your hope for Matt's either, but right when the front door was opened and you were pulled into a tight hug from their mother, you had no doubts that this one would be different. You really felt like you were apart of them, like they were a second family to you. Justin felt like an older brother and their parents felt like your parents. This is why the breakup was so hard, harder than it would normally be.

You weren't just losing Matt. You were losing Marylou, Jimmy, Justin, and even Trevor in relation, even if they said you were still part of their family. You probably wouldn't ever see their house in Boston again, or their house in the Cape. You wouldn't see Trevor prancing around the house and Jimmy and Marylou watching movies together.

As you took the photo down and opened your nightstand, you started sobbing as you placed it inside and closed the drawer. You collapsed into the floor in a fit of heaving breaths and tears, curled up in-front of the wall that held some of the best memories of your life you had to take down. You don't know how long you sat there crying for. All you know if that eventually, you couldn't cry anymore and just sat staring at the wall as the sun went down and your room went dark. You sat there, all the feelings you were trying to suppress flow like water through a freshly broken dam.

The realization that things were actually over, and that you were losing so many people and connections, and memories. You didn't know that Matt was sitting in the same position in his room, staring at the same copy of the photo you had put in your nightstand. Neither of you knew that you two, even though you were done, your souls were still connected. You were going through the same feelings of pain. Both your hearts were broken in the same places.

175 notes · View notes

tip-top-cloud-surfer · 6 months

Text

If You Met Me First (Part 2) - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Warrant Officer!Reader (Callsign: Echo)

Word Count: 1.8k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Aftermath of 'In Love with Someone Already in a Relationship' Trope; Female Reader with Callsign (Echo)

Summary: Rooster isn't over Echo. But maybe fate will ease his pain.

Part 1

Master List

It had been exactly two hundred sixty-seven days since Echo left and Rooster still wasn’t over her.

He hadn’t reached out to her, save for texting her a simple birthday message. And she returned the favor when it came time. But that was about all of the contact that they had with each other since he watched her step down the tunnel at the airport. And yet, everywhere he walked, everywhere he looked, all that he could notice was the fact that she was missing from his life.

He found himself fussing over how her replacement ordered papers in the files when it didn’t matter. He still packed an extra sweatshirt in his car when he went to hang out with the Dagger Squad late at night, as if she would be there and forget to bring one for herself. He bought her coffee order at least three times in the first two weeks without her, since he always used it as an excuse to see her earlier in the morning. And he had to delete all social media from his phone or else he’d spend a creepy amount of time scrolling through her photos and posts.

And so, maybe an eight-month deployment on a carrier ship was good for him.

He couldn’t have his phone on him all day, so he wasn’t constantly checking it. There were plenty of distractions around the ship and he was never truly alone with his thoughts, though his roommate offered to give him some personal space if he needed it at least twenty thousand times. And it allowed him to refocus and get his emotions more under control.

“Happy to go back home?” Phoenix asked as they walked out onto the deck.

“It’s time,” Rooster replied with a shrug, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “It’ll be nice to see Mav again.”

“He picking you up?”

“If he doesn’t forget.”

Without too much fuss, they prepped their planes and soon they were flying over open water. They landed back in Miramar several hours later and Rooster was eager to get a homemade meal and sleep in his own bed. He didn’t really need much more than that to keep him content.

Cleaning up his station, Rooster gently pulled his photos off. He carefully tucked the old picture of him, his parents, and Mav into the front pocket of his flight suit before reaching for the second photo. It was of some of the Dagger Squad, but the real reason why he picked it was because Echo was up on his back, waving to the camera with her usual bright smile.

And, well, he had to pick a photo of her that he had a reasonable excuse for. Just in case.

Hopping out of his plane, Rooster thanked the ground crew before turning to the crowd of family and friends. There were already people running to greet the other pilots and wizzos but Rooster walked along calmly. Rooster shot Phoenix a wink and thumbs up when he saw her embracing her ‘good friend,’ and earned a middle finger in return. Chuckling to himself, Rooster looked through the crowd for Maverick.

But when he turned around and locked eyes with a different but so achingly familiar pair of eyes, his world stopped for a moment. The stars realigned, the clouds departed, and the sun moved to provide an ethereal backlighting to Echo’s figure as she stood at the back of the group of greeters.

She offered him a small smile but Rooster could tell by the way that she folded her arms behind her back and kept her chin down that she was nervous to see him. After a moment, she released her hands and started walking towards him, her confidence seeming to return with every step. And it was time for Rooster to start moving on his own.

Dropping his bag with an audible thump, Rooster turned and started walking towards Echo until his own eagerness to have her close took over and he started running. Echo let out a silent laugh when she spotted Rooster’s increased pace and moved faster too.

She let Rooster scoop her up and spin her around. Wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, Echo held Rooster in a tight hug as he slowly stopped spinning her around. Rooster buried his face into her shoulder and kept his arms locked around her waist, holding her close. Hooking her ankles together around his back to steady herself, Echo sat up and smiled down at Rooster.

“Hey,” she greeted him, forcing herself to not run her thumb over his mustache.

“Hey,” he breathed out, still not sure if she was real or not.

“Hey,” she returned softly.

“You said that already,” Rooster pointed out, causing Echo to laugh sheepishly. Dropping her head against his shoulder, she curled her fingers into the fabric of his flight suit, familiarizing herself with the veins and lines of his back.

“I guess I did,” she mumbled out before picking her head up again. Reaching up to fix one of his curls, Echo added, “I missed you.”

What Rooster wanted to say was something along the lines of ‘do you have any idea of how many times I almost started driving after you? How many times my thumb hovered over your contact? How many times I bought something or watched something or listened to something simply because of the slight chance that you could be doing the exact same thing?’

But in the moment, staring at Echo, and feeling the weight of her in his arms, Rooster could only muster one simple phrase in return.

“I never stopped.”

Missing you, he implied.

Loving you, is what he actually meant.

Echo nodded slowly, offering him a small, enamored smile. She opened her mouth to respond, but thought better of the words that were threatening to spill out. Unlocking her ankles from around his back, Echo reached for the ground. Rooster released his hold under her thighs and reluctantly let her stand on her own two feet. Looking up at him from their usual height difference, Echo studied his expression for a moment.

“No injuries to report?” she asked quietly, trying to recenter herself.

“Not one,” Rooster assured her.

“Staying out of trouble?”

“Always.”

“That’s a lie,” Echo retorted, smiling up at him in a way that made Rooster desperate to kiss her.

“Maybe a little one,” Rooster agreed, chuckling to himself.

“I’m supposed to take you to the Hard Deck,” Echo stated, not moving to put any sort of physical space in between her and Rooster. Pulling out the keys to the Bronco from her pocket, she held them out to Rooster. “I’m under captain’s orders.”

“Alright,” Rooster replied, taking the keys and letting his touch linger on Echo’s hand.

Echo nodded and reluctantly took a step away. But before she got too far, he laced his fingers through her own, holding their hands together. Turning back to him with a questioning expression, Echo’s eyes widened a fraction as Rooster closed the space in between them again.

“But there’s something that I need to do first,” Rooster stated, causing Echo to nod, all the while she was pretty sure that she wasn’t breathing.

“What is it?” Echo asked softly.

“It depends on your answer.”

“My answer?” Echo mumbled, somewhat dumbly. “To what?”

“Can I kiss you?” Rooster questioned, causing Echo to suck in a sharp breath.

“You want to kiss me?”

“If you want, I can show you how much I want to kiss you.”

Echo let out a soft laugh, some of the tension leaving her body before gently resting her hand on Rooster’s cheek. Running her thumb over his mustache like she wanted to earlier, she then swiped her thumb over his lips, causing a groan to escape Rooster’s throat. Having teased him enough, Echo tilted her chin up to meet Rooster’s lips.

Chasing her lips like a starving man, Rooster wrapped his arms around Echo’s waist and pulled her impossibly closer. Smiling into the kiss as Rooster pulled her to her tiptoes, Echo cupped his face with her hand, trailing her fingers along his scars. Her heart was beating out of her chest and her cheeks warmed as Rooster drew her in for more.

Rooster thought that he was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. The tension that felt like it had made a permanent home in his stomach slowly uncoiled and he let himself finally relax again. To enjoy the moment. And he was going to enjoy the moment. Cupping the back of her head, Rooster slowly deepened the kiss, causing a gasp to escape Echo’s lips.

Dropping her other hand down his chest as they made out like a bunch of horny teenagers on an airstrip, Echo moved her hand around Rooster’s back and snuck a quick squeeze of his ass. Rooster suddenly pulled back with a shocked expression, causing Echo to grow incredibly embarrassed.

“Sorry! It just . . . I wanted to . . .”

Echo made some awkward grabbing motions with her hand before Rooster let out a laugh that made her collapse against his chest with a mix of embarrassment and urge to just soak up his presence again. Echo looked up at Rooster bashfully through her eyelashes, though she clearly didn’t regret it.

“You can squeeze mine to make it even,” she offered to him.

“Before you risk a public indecency charge,” Phoenix called, walking past them on her way out to the parking lot, “you coming to the Hard Deck with everyone else?”

Rooster looked over at Phoenix, not really sure about how to answer as Echo rested her head on his chest. For two people who had spent nearly a year apart from each other, they looked exceedingly comfortable together. Phoenix had a pretty good guess that both Echo and Rooster wouldn’t want to trade that comfort for much else.

Not tonight. Not ever.

“We’ll go . . . after a pit stop?” Echo asked, turning to look up at Rooster, who smirked.

“We need to make a pit stop?” he drawled.

“Well, the gas is low in the Bronco,” Echo lied, but she sounded so serious, Rooster instantly deflated.

“What?”

Echo nudged Rooster with her elbow, causing him to perk up again. Phoenix rolled her eyes and shot them a knowing expression before walking off with her own ‘friend.’

Now alone again, Rooster pulled Echo with him to grab his bag from the ground before making their way out into the parking lot. He tossed his bag into the back of the Bronco before climbing into the driver’s seat next to Echo.

“So, we should get going to the, uh . . . pit stop?”

“We can go to the Hard Deck instead, if you want,” Echo replied, causing Rooster to shake his head rapidly. Echo laughed loudly, tilting her head back as she smiled over at Rooster. “Then start driving, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Rooster returned with a wink before starting up the Bronco.

Putting it into drive, Rooster pulled out of the lot and started heading off base. As the wind whipped through their hair, Roostee slowly reached out and slid his hand under Echo’s until she threaded her fingers through his own. They shared a look and a smile before driving off into the sunset together.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #bradley bradshaw fanfiction

119 notes · View notes

journey-to-the-attic · 2 months

Text

3rd anni req 5: beel, asmo / photos

ao3 link

note: this one's short n sweet! takes place post-jtta ^^

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!”

“Huh? What?” Beel jerks upright as Asmo barrels into the kitchen - his spoon clatters to the table in mild panic. “Did something happen?”

“Look at this!” Asmo wails, practically slamming an orange-cased D.D.D. on the table. “You were hiding these this whole time?!”

“Huh?” Beel seems to have already forgotten that he lent it to him. “What?”

Asmo rubs his eyes furiously, sniffs, then asks, “You didn’t even notice?”

“Notice what?” He asks cluelessly, then finally looks down at the screen. “...oh…”

IK’s eyes - very, very close to the camera - stare back up at him. Like an inquisitive sort of little bird.

He pushes away his bowl with one hand and pulls his phone towards himself with the other. He’s cradling it like something precious, wearing the sort of softly awed face you’d use for a baby animal.

Asmo isn’t sure whether or not to laugh. Beel hasn’t even realised there’s more than one picture yet.

He lets him remember to swipe in his own time. Silently, he watches him skim through IK’s little impromptu photoshoot - none of it quite taken seriously, but earnest all the same.

Beel stops on Asmo’s favourite - the one where her face is behind a glass of water, so that it warps in funny places. Maybe it’s because the warping obscures it somewhat, but this is the only one where IK’s wearing a full grin. The other smiles are sweet, but small and a little awkward - this one, for lack of a better word, is just plain joyous.

Asmo takes a look at Beel’s face. He doesn’t feel as silly for bursting into tears now.

Beel has exactly two pre-existing albums - Asmo knows this because he was snooping through them before he spotted the selfies - one for food (dishes he wants to try, promotional restaurant posters, and everything in between), and one for family.

This one is a little more curated than the food album; given his lack of photography ambition, most of Beel’s gallery is filled by courtesy of his brothers messing around, so he’s more selective about which ones to commit to memory. Asmo watches Beel select the entire block of sneaky selfies, and saves them next to a magazine-worthy shot of Belphie staring out into the horizon.

He gets it. He’s feeling sentimental, too.

Beel is quiet for a little while longer. Finally, he says, voice perhaps a touch thicker than usual, “When did she have time to do that?”

Asmo had thought the same thing - which is why he’s already checked the timestamps. It seems IK was making a game of it for a little while, because the pictures come in bursts over a period of about a week. There are twenty-two in total.

Beel doesn’t seem to expect an answer. In fact, he’s already moved on. “I should show Belphie…”

He’s looking at the photo where Belphie’s tousled hair is just about visible in the background - IK’s done her absolute best to capture his sleep-contorted face. Based on the odd angle - and the blurring - she dropped the phone on him immediately after taking the picture.

He scrolls through the whole set one more time, then says affectionately, “I don’t think IK thought I’d find these.

He’s pointed out a certain quirk to her smiles. Asmo nods fondly; yes, that’s definitely the look of an IK who thinks she’s getting away with something. She does the same thing when she thinks Satan hasn’t noticed her drawing lines on his arm during study sessions.

“Gosh, I feel crazy,” Asmo sighs, then abruptly face-plants forward onto the table. “They’re just pictures, but I feel like I’ve just watched her win an award or something.”

“Is that what it is?”

“Maybe? Like, oh, that’s our girl, you know?”

“It’s…” Beel doesn’t finish the thought before moving onto the next. “...hmm. Do you think that’s what having kids is?”

“Having—” Asmo chokes on nothing in particular. “Huh? I’m too young to be a parent! That’s totally not the same thing.”

Beel doesn’t look convinced. “I’ll ask Lucifer.”

“That doesn’t count. He’s old.” He clears his throat and relaxes again. “...it’s a different thing. I don’t think there’s a name for it… I just think it means family.”

Beel smiles. “I think so, too.”

#3rd anni event #obey me #writing #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus

27 notes · View notes

imtooscaredforthis · 11 months

Text

Entrapment

Chapter Twenty: Cat & Mouse

Mentions of: Murder, Stalking, Paranoia, Manipulation, Stabbing, Blood, Fighting, etc.

A/N: A pretty heated chapter..Enjoy!!

Tags: @dead-bxxxtch-walking @vandeaad @mama-miya @stwbwwwychan @the-fandoms-georgie @moonshineinasippycup

“Hey Jed? What are these?” You asked, pulling out a file from a box with information on Ghostface. It was something he had been collecting for awhile, for writing and for you to learn more about him.

He looked over your shoulder at what you had in hand, leaning in close. He was so close that you could smell his cologne, and it made you dizzy. “Oh, these? They’re copies of police reports about his previous victims. Just a warning, they can get pretty gorey, and a good amount of information is blocked out due to confidentiality.”

You pulled them out, and placed them on your desk, going through the different reports. You grabbed a notepad to take notes.

The first thing you wrote down was the dates. Each murder was at least two weeks apart. While he mostly went for single victims, he would occasionally go for more..two, three, sometimes even four. But those murders had more of a time gap between them, which makes sense. He would need more time for planning.

As you continued flipping through the files, you found a sticky note on one of them. Some victims report seeing a hooded figure following them…Stalking??

That made your heart drop as you remembered your possessions being moved around your apartment and stolen, and the phone call you received from him. It was all him.

A shiver went down your spine as you realized..He was following you..stalking you for god knows how long. How could you not see it? You always thought you paid attention, always thought you were aware, but you missed it. Was he still following you now? Watching, waiting for the perfect time to strike? You felt like you were going to be sick.

Are you his next victim?

Panic surged through you, as you thought back to that fateful night and you realized..You were different. He had called you, spoken to you, unlike his other victims, and he spared you, and seemed to intend on keeping you alive…wanting to speak to you again.

He was playing a cat and mouse game with you, and he was going to keep you alive for as long as you entertained him.

“Are you alright over there? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.” Jed asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I’m fine, thanks. I was just reading and I got a little lost in my head, I guess.” You admitted. He put a gentle hand over yours. “You don’t have to read these, and you don’t have to do this. If it’s too much, just let me know.”

You would typically be flustered by his caring actions, but you were too focused to care. “Thanks, Jed, but I’m good. I can do this.”

You’d play his game, but you weren’t going to be the mouse. He was.

–

That evening, you went to one of his victims home’s, armed with a taser you had bought a week after the murders you witnessed, and a camera. It was in a safe upper middle class suburban community, which Ghostface had infiltrated with ease. He had murdered a family of four. The house was condemned, and no one stepped foot inside ever since.

Well, until now. You stared at the rather large house in front of you, taking a deep shaky breath, before pulling off the wood panels blocking the door, and stepping inside.

It was a rather nice home, besides the dust, the stench of bleach, and lack of furniture. You read that it was designed by the patriarch and father, Paul. You shut the door behind you, walking through the entryway, before pausing.

You meandered to the kitchen, spotting an old blood stain on the tiled floor. You raised your camera, taking a picture. That was where the daughter, May, had her throat slit.

Orange light shone through the boarded up windows from the sunset outside. You went through some cabinets and drawers in the kitchen, not finding anything. During your search, you pushed against something, causing a loud, creaking, making your heart practically leap out of your chest.

You jumped, swearing under your breath, before realizing it was just the basement door. You slowly went down, the area becoming darker with each step you took. Thankfully, you managed to find the string to a light bulb, pulling it and illuminating the room.

There was a space where the washer/dryer was, and another blood stain, from the mother’s death. She had been stabbed in the back, and three times in the chest.

Suddenly, there was a loud popping sound, the lightbulb exploding. You jumped, throwing your camera. You moved your hand around the dark, searching for it, before you felt something touch you.

“Fuck this.” You muttered under your breath, taking off up the stairs, slamming the door shut. After a moment or two, you opened the door again, seeing if there was anything waiting for you at the bottom of the steps. There was nothing there. You let out a sigh of relief.

Okay, I’m losing it. I need to stay calm and focus. Figure out what’s going through his head. What’s he thinking about? What’s he plotting?

“Looking for something?” A voice asked from behind you…A voice that you could never forget…A voice that haunts your dreams. You spun around on your heels, spotting Ghostface standing before you. “Surprise.”

Fuck. You turned to run, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you backward. You struggled against his grip, but he was too strong. He shoved you to the ground, your head knocking against the floor.

You groaned in pain, your head throbbing and feeling dizzy and disoriented from the fall. He circled you like a shark in water, his boots making the floorboards creak.

“So, you decided to play detective, huh? How cute. You should know it’s dangerous to snoop around..especially when there’s a killer roaming the streets.” He knelt down above you, while you reached for the taser in your pocket.

You flicked it on, and swung at him, but he slashed at your arm with his knife, cutting you and making you drop the device and yelp in pain. He tsked, flicking it off. “You seriously thought this was going to stop me? Silly girl…You should behave yourself.”

“Fuck you, you sadistic shithead!” You snapped, punching him across the face with your good hand. You hit him hard. So hard that his mask had shifted to the other side of his face, and blood dropped onto the floor.

He wiped the blood from the cloth of his mask, staying eerily quiet and still. You got to your feet, springing up and running to the door. Just before you could open it, he grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head and slamming you up against a wall.

“Little fucking bitch. You’re going to pay for that.” He bashed your head against the wall a couple more times, before wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing, his knife pressing against your chest, just inches away from your heart.

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with already.” You said, your voice raspy from the lack of oxygen. That only got him to press down harder. “You stupid whore, don’t you want to live?”

“I’d rather die— f-fighting than live— and listen to you.” You spoke between wheezes. He strangled you harder, to the point where you felt like you were going to pass out, but just before he could, he let you go, pressing his mask to your ear.

“You’ll die when I want you to.” He hissed, before his voice turned back to it’s typical condescending and playful tone. “For now, you can keep it up with your little investigation. It’s quite entertaining, actually. Who knows, maybe you’ll crack the case. But if I were you, I would focus on who I’m going to kill next. Hopefully, it’s not your little friend.”

“No- don’t-” Before she could speak anymore, he put a finger to her lips, silencing her. “Be a good girl, and don’t break my rules, and I’ll find someone else. Now, run along, and take care of that arm. You don’t want it getting infected. Get some ice for your head too. See you around, doll.”

And with that, he let you go, shoving you out the front door.

71 notes · View notes

farfromharry · 2 years

Text

Beth [ 15 ] | Dad!Eddie Munson series

Fifteen, Lola

Word count - 7655

Warnings - language?? idrk??

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

June 1995

Being nine months pregnant in the midst of Indiana summer wasn’t short from hell. To be fair to Eddie he was trying his best to make it more bearable for you, fanning you when you asked, tying back your hair, getting you anything and everything you needed. He was running around like a headless chicken pretty much twenty hours a day to try and appease his pregnant wife and their very needy nine year old. Part of him couldn’t wait until the baby arrived just because he wouldn’t have to do any of that anymore, though he knew he wasn’t getting a break or an easy ride after you welcomed your new baby.

Even now, a day that was supposed to be relaxing and fun down at the nearest water park, was spent with him tending to his wife as she complained tirelessly about the heat. It had been a joint Steve and Eddie idea to head over, accompanied by two of their favorite kids– though they weren’t really kids anymore at twenty-four, Max and Dustin who weasled their way into coming along.

It was the only way the two men could think that would cool anyone down in the dreadful heat and you weren’t one to complain about anything that would bring you a moment's relief from the harsh sun, though you wouldn’t be going on any of the crazy rides like the others were. Instead Tulip had the wonderful idea to spend some time on the lazy river, just the two pregnant wives swapping pregnancy tips.

Eddie thought you both looked adorable, your big bump on show beside her smaller one as the two of you finally took a second to breathe from the chaotic lives of being a mother. If he had a camera with him at that moment he would have taken a billion pictures. But instead he was taking his nine year old on water slides, finally getting to do the penguin move she’d wanted to attempt over five years ago. Better late than never, right?

He left you with a promise he wouldn’t take the girl on any rides that were too big for her, but you knew the second he was out of your sight he’d defy that instantly. Usually you would have flipped out, but today was supposed to be a day where you relaxed, so that was exactly what you were going to do. Eddie and his bad decisions be damned.

Speaking of said bad decisions, you knew one was playing out when the pair disappeared from the line from one of the smaller sides, followed a little while later by a scream that sounded a little too much like Beth’s. You pushed it aside, instead trying to focus on the tranquility the soft swaying of your body in the water provided.

“You know,” Tulip began, capturing your attention. “I still can’t believe Eddie Munson, my little freak, is having a baby with Hawkins’ sweetheart.” She knew the title wasn’t one you loved. You’d been branded with it in highschool and it just stuck, a name you couldn’t shake. It wasn’t the worst thing to be called, but that didn’t mean you had to enjoy it.

You scrunched your nose. “That makes me sound so pretentious.” You could hear her laugh, but she understood you wholeheartedly. “I don’t like being known as Hawkins flower either, but…” she trailed off.

“But there’s a meaning behind yours, it’s your name,” you argued. There was a meaning behind the one you were branded with too, so maybe it was a little contradictory but you were trying to prove a point.

She sighed. “A little like Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, don’t you think?”

With that you were unsure what she was trying to imply. You had never viewed Eddie as a freak once in your life, not like the majority of this shitty town. She was so protective over him, and it was understood completely, he wasn’t treated greatly in Hawkins and she was a person that could try and put a stop to that. When your dad was the chief you had a lot of power.

“I always had a crush on him. He was different, a good kind of different, and I don’t know— I liked that about him,” you admitted shyly. You hadn’t ever actually told anyone that, especially not him. “Was always too nervous to tell him.”

Tulip scoffed. “He was, like, so in love with you. Honestly you should have gone for it.” That was hard for you to believe. In high school the two of you didn’t interact, almost ever. He seemed to keep a good distance from you so you just presumed he didn’t like you. That wasn’t to say you ever made an effort to talk with him either. So you supposed it was actually a mutual problem. If either one of you had just gotten it together and said hi or something, maybe you could have had the pleasure of dating this whole time.

“But, h-he was so cool. Why me?”

She looked at you as if you’d just revealed you were an alien or something, with an underlying sense of disgust. “Eddie? Cool? You have got to be kidding.”

Her words made heat rush to your cheeks. This was probably one of the reasons you didn’t tell anyone about your crush, because you knew they’d tease you for finding something so endearing about a weirdo like Eddie. You couldn’t even explain it yourself, hell he probably couldn’t begin to fathom it, but something about that man made you feel like a giggly school girl. “I’d never tell him this sober or anything, but he truly is the greatest man I’ve ever met,” you stated. “He’s an amazing dad, to both Beth and this baby already. Plus, he made me a mom, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Usually Tulip didn’t do sentimental, but she did love the way you spoke about her best friend with such fondness. No one tended to speak about him like that (in a positive light). It was refreshing.

The two of you were still floating on the river, and neither of you thought this would have been such a bonding experience. “‘M glad he has you, you know. I couldn’t imagine anyone else being such a good match for him.” You let those words sit in the air, bringing a warm feeling to your chest. Earning Tulip’s endless approval to love her best friend meant more than you could ever put into words.

Your bonding session didn’t last much longer, the sun was becoming too unbearable, the two of you needing relief from it. Tulip led the way, you waddling behind her as you situated yourselves in some shade beside one of the pools on some reclining chairs. It allowed you to observe your family and friends as they had their fun, as well as your daughter's bright face as she headed your way after coming off of one of the rides.

“Mom,” Beth called, excitement lacing her tone as she ran over to you. There was a faint call from her dad who was telling her not to run, but it fell on deaf ears. All she wanted to do was reach you to tell you what was making her so giddy. “I got to do the penguin slide!” she gushed.

You gasped, hands coming up to enclose around hers as she told you the story of how her and Eddie went down the huge water slide. Once she was done she scurried away, sure to go and tell someone else the same thing she told you. You turned to look at your husband with a completely opposite expression than you showed to the little girl moments ago. “What the hell is the penguin slide?”

He wanted to explain, he really did, but how was he meant to put into words that it was an empty promise he made five years ago that he only just made good on? So instead he just laughed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s uh, a long story.”

A few feet away the nine year old was talking with Steve, you assumed telling him the penguin news. His reaction was a little different to yours considering he actually looked like he knew what she was talking about. Instead of just quietly listening, he even gave his own input and high fived her afterwards, looking as happy as she did about the whole thing. It was all confusing, but many things were when they came to Steve Harrington, so you brushed it off.

Once Beth ran away to go and bother yet another one of the group— her dad trailing close behind her with the same warning not to run so she didn’t hurt herself— Steve continued on his journey over to you and his wife.

You couldn’t help but notice the way she was eyeing him. Now you were well aware the pair were married with numerous kids, but they didn’t tend to show affection like a couple as you and Eddie did. They liked to tease and playfully bully each other (not that you and your husband didn’t) so it was rare to see them show actual love or attraction towards one another. It was a nice change from their usual dynamic, but that didn’t make it any less odd to witness. In fact when you truly thought about it, it was odd they were married at all.

“I can’t believe you married Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington,” you muttered.

She hummed beside you, watching closely as her two babies bombarded their dad in his path. There was a dumb smile on her face that was familiar to you— It was the same one you got when you admired Eddie for too long. “Sometimes, I can’t either. But he gives me the cutest babies,” she said, grinning widely as they climbed him like some sort of jungle gym. “He’s pretty hot too.”

You rolled your eyes, muttering an exaggerated ‘gross’ as the man finally stopped in front of you, childless now. He casted a shadow over his eyes as he stared down at her with a grin, hair and skin still wet with the water from the pool.

Tulip eyed him warily, disliking the way he looked so suspicious. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Nothing.” She kept her guard up as he stepped closer to her, though he only ended up dropping a kiss to her head. That was followed by a scrunch of her nose that only further proved your findings about the strange couple. “Jus’ wanted to tell you ‘m going on some rides with Henderson.”

She nodded, still unsure why he’d felt the need to come over and tell her that as if she was his mother. Truly as long as her kids were being cared for she didn’t particularly mind what Steve did. This day was for him to enjoy too. “Have fun,” she said, bidding him a goodbye. He was almost gone when she let her guard down, but that was when he chose to strike, water pistol aimed right at her unsuspecting frame.

At the first jet of water hitting her, she squealed, then turned her head in the direction of her husband who was certainly a goner after doing that. He was biting back a laugh as she glared daggers at him. “You’re so dead, Harrington,” she threatened. She would have killed him on the spot had he not run away like a scared child. He was still laughing to himself despite the fact that he was most definitely sleeping on the couch tonight. Everyone knew it– even the kids.

After the excitement of the big rides, the majority of the group, minus Steve and Dustin, took to relaxing in one of the more tame pools near where you and Tulip resided. The two of you were catching sun, briefly watching your family's play and splash in the water. The Harrington man had convinced the redhead, with a bribe obviously, to take the twins from his hands so he could go on some of the water slides with Dustin. With money involved, she said yes.

They were all just goofing around, Eddie lifting Beth into the air and dropping her in the water to hear her giggle and insist on him doing it again. Max was being much gentler with the two four year olds, helping them swim the shortest of distances as Tulip cheered for them on the sidelines. Though after a while they got tired.

Max brought them over to the mother, claiming the two little girls missed her, when in reality they were only seconds away from passing out for an afternoon nap. You couldn’t help but watch, a flurry of butterflies swarming in your stomach at the thought that that would be you soon enough.

Your lover noticed from the pool that you seemed to be a little withdrawn from the group, whether that was because you were too hot from the sun or your bub was giving you problems again, he didn’t know. But he could provide help.

Ever the menace he thought it would be funny to splash you from the pool he was in with Beth, he even encouraged her to join in. It was met with a harsh glare that looked like you wanted to drown him, but all he could offer back was a shy smile. When the little girl beside him mirrored his expression, you knew you couldn’t stay mad, rolling your eyes as a grin broke on your face. You’d hoped you turned your head quick enough to hide it, but the amusement in his eyes told you that wasn’t the case.

His defense was a simple ‘I was just cooling you down,’ but you knew he was full of shit.

It seemed as though his next move was to do the exact same thing to the woman beside you, though she didn’t like that idea one bit, and she let him know. “If you even think about splashing me, Munson. I’ll drown you.”

His hands raised in his defense and he was pulled away by a giggling Beth. It had been an amusing sight. The dynamic between Tulip and Eddie was one you had always admired. The pair would die for each other no doubt, go to the ends of the earth if the other asked, but they wouldn’t say a single nice thing to their face or anyone else's about them. They were a dysfunctional sort of friends, but it worked for them and served for fun times for the rest of you. So although Tulip would give him her last breath if he needed it, she was probably deadly serious with her threat of murder.

“One more tip for you, sunshine,” she said out of nowhere, voice bringing you out of the daze you were in focused on your husband. When you looked over at her the sight was precious, one of her babies curled up with their head in her neck while the other curled up on her lap. “Babies are unpredictable. You might think you have lots of time, but you never really know.” She glanced down at the two kids in her arms, smiling sweetly. “They’re so worth it though.”

To both of yours and Eddie’s knowledge, you had another couple weeks until she was due. But to true Munson nature she decided she wanted to surprise her parents.

It was the middle of the night on the twenty first when your water broke. The entire evening you had been having slight pains in your stomach, ones you brushed off as nothing, though now it all made sense. Those were early labor pains. During dinner Eddie had watched a few times as your face scrunched up in pain, but you always assured him you were fine. The same happened when you watched a movie with Beth that was supposed to tire her out, then when the two of you were getting ready for bed too. He had a lingering feeling in his chest that there was something more that you weren’t telling him, but he didn’t push out of fear of making you upset.

Around three in the morning was when they got bad enough that they finally woke you. Your eyes fluttered open with a groan, hand coming down to cup your swollen belly in an attempt to soothe the ache. You even tried talking to the bump a little. “Mommy’s tired. Calm down, baby.” Even if they didn’t know what you were saying, you hoped it’d work. Obviously it didn’t.

You laid there for a little in pain, you didn’t know how long, but there was no way you could fall back into that blissful sleep now. You admired your husband for a little bit too, tracing his sleeping features with your eyes. That was until you were certain your baby was trying to announce their upcoming appearance, then you were kicked into panic mode.

Calling his name was your first attempt at waking him, wanting to make waking up as stress free as possible for him considering the chaos you were both about to endure. But when that didn’t work kindness was out the window and replaced with urgency. “Eddie, come on.”

He woke with a start to the feeling of hands on him forcefully shaking him awake. Usually it would have taken at least a few minutes for him to come around and completely leave his slumber, but it was like he knew this time that you couldn’t afford to waste a moment like that. At the sight of you clutching your belly even in the dark, he was up and on his feet, not even bothering with the lights before fumbling around your moon-lit room for the bag you were taking to the hospital. He was thankful you’d packed it when you had just a couple days prior, because now he was much too overwhelmed to think about all the stuff you’d need.

With his panic you reasoned that you had to be the rational one between you both right now. You needed clear heads to get everything done and if you both acted the way he was that would be impossible. You started simply, just flicking on the lamp beside your bed so the two of you could see, or you could finally see his pacing figure.

“Honey, calm down.” You couldn’t believe you were the one telling him to calm down while you were the one in labor. Eddie Munson was truly a drama queen. “Get the hospital bag, I’ll get Beth and call Wayne.”

The sound of your voice was enough to get through to him, his head nodding as he took a few deep breaths to soothe his nerves and settle his racing heart. “Get the bag, okay,” he muttered.

You chuckled as you left the room, leaving him to his own hysteria as you headed to wake Beth. Already you knew it would take a lot, she was a deep sleeper and hated more than anything being woken up. Though it was a special occasion, one you knew she’d be excited for, the process which led to her learning about it was going to be a long one.

“Sweetheart,” you whispered, brushing her hair from her face. You were trying to be as gentle as possible so she wasn’t startled or woken up all grumpy. She must have heard you, a small grunt of frustration sounding in her throat. “Need you to wake up.” She huffed this time, blinking open her eyes to look at you where you crouched beside her bed.

“What’s going on?” she muttered, groggily.

You smiled. “We’re having the baby,” you told her. Her eyes widened, a look of excitement swimming in her eyes, but it quickly burned out as the need to sleep overtook her again. She thought that piece of information was all you had wanted to tell her, not realizing you meant the three of you needed to leave right now. “That’s cool,” she muttered, closing her eyes again and nuzzling her cheek into the pillow below her head. Her response pulled a giggle out of you, amused with the actions of the young child, but that joy disappeared as another wave of pain rolled over you.

She heard the quiet groan you let out and her eyes flickered back open, eyebrows drawing together in concern for you. “Mom, are you okay?” she questioned, sitting up in her bed to check on you. You didn’t answer her until the contraction passed, forcing a strained smile. “Yeah, ‘m okay. But we need to get going sweetheart, we can’t go back to sleep now.”

That seemed to make her understand. She was up in seconds, though still laced with sleep, rushing off to find her dad. You followed behind her, letting your husband know you were going to call his Uncle and then everything would be done on your side.

Once Beth was awake and in Eddie’s arms, you took to calling Wayne. There were only a few rings before the phone was picked up on the other end, a ‘hello’ coming from the sleepy man. He had a little bit of a gut feeling on what he thought the call might be, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. “Hey Wayne, it’s Y/N. It’s time.” That was all that had to be said. Unlike Beth, all sleep left him at that moment and he jumped to prepare for your arrival.

That was what he was doing while Eddie checked the final things in the house and that he’d gotten everything you needed just for you. It had taken longer than he’d like by a while, but you were getting there and he supposed that was all that mattered. He had almost gotten you out of the house, so close to having you pass the threshold of the cabin when you abruptly stopped. Inside he was screaming, his anxiety swallowing him whole the longer it took you to leave. He plastered a smile on his face though, asking you calmly what was wrong.

“Eddie, did you feed Bat?” you asked, scratching behind the feline’s ear as he purred quietly. Although he loved attention, he tended to love it more when he was hungry and wanted feeding. Due to the fact you wouldn’t know how long your labor would be, you thought it best to make sure he was fed before you left.

Eddie didn’t think the same. “Forget about the cat, we have to get you to the hospital.” To say you were the one going to give birth, you weren’t nearly as worked up as your husband was. In fact, between contractions you were rather chill.

He saw the way you frowned and froze. Throughout your entire pregnancy he often felt like he was walking on eggshells when it came to your mood swings; he never knew what the right thing to say was. Sometimes the two of you could be laughing, then the next you were crying over something he said. He was worried this was another one of those times and it was probably the worst possible occasion.

“So you can bring your guitar but I can’t worry about our beloved pet?” you asked. He sighed, knowing this was going to be brought up from the second he decided to pick up the instrument. “It might come in handy, y’know at the hospital. The cat won’t.”

“But, he needs to be fed,” you said, simply, scooping the family pet up into your arms.

Eddie couldn’t believe his eyes. You had woken him up in the middle of the night, told him your water broke and your baby was coming, and now you were here coddling the cat like he was your biggest concern. Your husband was amazed.

“I’ll call Steve, okay? Right now though, we have other things to do.” You just nodded, not having the energy to put up a fight with him over it. One thing you were positive about though was that Steve wouldn’t be happy about doing anything for your pet. He and Bat had this weird, unexplained hatred for each other, and he made a point of bringing it up anytime he saw or heard someone talk about the small animal. Even if Bat did have something against him, which you were sure the sweetheart didn’t, Steve liked to exaggerate.

With that decided, Eddie hastily rushed you and Beth out the door to the car. The child was still half asleep, though she liked cuddling with you in the back, at least for the short journey it took to go over to the trailer park. Playing with her soft curls was actually a pleasant distraction for you when it came to the pain hitting your body every so often.

It wasn’t that long of a drive, you made the journey within at least fifteen minutes, the time not yet hitting four am. Despite being woken up in the middle of the night, Wayne was excited. He was more than happy to welcome a sleepy Beth into the trailer, ushering her back into Eddie’s old room which hadn’t really changed a bit from when he lived there. She didn’t even hesitate, desperate to get back to sleep.

Once she was gone he turned to you two, a proud smile on his face as he stared at his nephew. His eyes told you he was desperate to say something, but he didn’t want to hold you up when you were literally on your way to give birth. “Go get me another grandbaby,” he said, patting Eddie on the shoulder with a promise he’d bring Beth by later on. The only downside to the little girl being gone from your care was that the man was now free to freak out like a maniac, not having to pretend he was stress-free for anyone.

He was bothering you constantly on the drive to the hospital, spewing the most idiotic things while trying to keep himself sane enough to drive normally. You would have strangled him had you had the strength. “Eddie,” you called, cutting off his rant.

“Yeah?”

“Please, shut up.”

He took that to heart. He was silent for the rest of the journey to the hospital, despite checking in with you every now and then to make sure you were okay. You appreciated the quiet, though later you would probably feel a little bit guilty, but you could apologize then.

The first full sentence he spoke to you after that was once you had arrived at the hospital, only not in the car. With his jumbled thoughts he seemed to remember the bag you packed, but not the wife of his that was in labor. You were in utter disbelief in the passenger seat as he rushed inside the building most likely to tell them you were going to give birth.

You were irritated as you climbed out of the car by yourself, cursing him out in your head as you started on your journey to the front doors. Before you made it all the way there, his guilty face was already coming back through the doors. He knew you were going to be mad and obviously his apology isn’t going to do much when you were in such an uncomfortable mood, but he’d at least try. “I’m sorry.”

“Uh-huh,” you stated, blankly, crossing your arms over your chest as you seethed. He knew better than to say anything else that could possibly make the situation worse, so he just placed a hand on your back and guided you inside. You supposed now you were basically even, with the way you told him to shut up compared to the fact he forgot his pregnant wife in the car at the hospital he was taking her to. The two might not compare but now you certainly weren’t going to apologize. “Let’s just get this over with.”

It was later now, into the early morning by this point and your contractions were only getting worse. You’d been allocated a hospital room and one of the terrible gowns that your lover laughed at. From then on you just had to prepare yourself to wait. Eddie was trying to do everything within the limits of the hospital room that he could to distract you, but none of them were working. Your last resort had been the one thing you wanted to avoid out of pure stubbornness, but you no longer had the energy to keep up that façade.

“Play me a song, please,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as another one hit. For a second he just held your hand, rubbed over your bump with his other one while he still could, then he’d get to whatever you wanted him to do. After it was over you shared a look, a silent ‘you okay’ that gave him confirmation to leave your side.

As soon as you nodded he was scurrying away to where he’d set all your stuff down, grabbing his prized possession with an award winning smile. He was quick with it, wanting to get back to you as soon as he could.

“Bet you’re glad I brought my guitar now, huh sunshine?” he teased, settling his fingers in position over the strings. He couldn’t see your face when he spoke, so he missed the anger written all over your features. You knew he’d never experienced a partner in labor before, but he was going about it all the wrong way.

With a quiet growl and moan of pain, you let him know. “Eddie, just play the fucking song.” You gritted your teeth at the next contraction and your husband decided to finally take this whole thing seriously.

“On it,” he muttered, tugging on his guitar pick necklace.

The song wasn’t one you would usually find a man like Eddie Munson playing, but he would do anything for his wife, especially when you were in as much pain as you were. He hated seeing you like this. In seconds the beginning of ‘you are my sunshine’ filled the room. It made you smile, knowing his love for this song had blossomed because of you and the nickname he’d branded you with. You asked about it once, where it came from, and all he could tell you was that you reminded him of the sun because you always made people feel happy and warm. In turn you had admitted you began to call him honey because he was always so sweet to you, a secret that only fueled his ego.

The soft sounds of the guitar brought you momentary peace. It was a positive distraction from the situation you were in, especially when he began to hum quietly. Eddie wasn’t one that loved to sing when he played if there were people around, though he made the odd exception, but he did like to hum. He thought it added more to his little performance, and you and Beth always enjoyed it.

There was a dumb smile on your face as you watched him, barely even realising another contraction had passed. If anyone was to look at the two of you right now they would have seen nothing but two young people in complete love. And that’s exactly what you were to a tee.

Towards the end of the song you noticed the door cracking open, a small head peeking around the corner shyly. The familiar head or hair was enough for you to identify the girl anywhere. “Hi Beth. Come on in.”

She smiled brightly, rushing in and almost tackling her father in a hug as he set his guitar down. Wayne followed closely behind, offering you a sweet smile and a hand to hold when he saw the wince of pain cross your features. You were grateful, thanking him quietly while you tried to act as carefree as possible to not startle Beth.

She sat herself in his lap, looking towards you laid in the hospital bed. You knew she must have been confused and a little scared. “When is the baby coming?” she asked, looking between you and her dad curiously.

“Well, sweet girl, babies take time. She could be another few hours ye–” You cut him off with a groan, one that sounded more pained than the previous ones he’d heard. It led him to believe now was time, and it was quite ironic that it had come at the exact moment he told his daughter it could be a while. “Or maybe she’s coming right now.”

Wayne had been the one to call for the doctor, telling them you thought it was go time. “Okay, you have to go now, but we’ll see you later, okay?” You were gritting your teeth as the pain continued, but your expression was unfaltering as Beth stared at you. “Then you’ll get to meet your baby sister.”

She gave you a tight hug, then one to her dad before she scurried out of the room with Wayne, a quiet ‘good luck’ from him. The nurses swarming your bed only made you nervous, but your husband was quick to situate himself by your side, taking your hand in his tightly. “You ready for this?” he asked, dropping a kiss down on your head.

He could see the nerves swimming in your eyes, but both of you knew you didn’t have a choice right now if you were ready or not. “Ready as I can be.”

The birth itself didn’t compare to the long labor. They were a different type of pain, but you wouldn’t wish the feeling of pushing a child out of you on even your worst enemy. Eddie was hopeless. He hated seeing you in pain, but he held your hand the whole time, occasionally wiping away the sweat that built on your head or issuing praises into your ear that did much more for you than the midwife’s did.

It was over after what felt like hours, though Eddie would soon let you know it hadn’t been longer than half an hour. That you were amazed by, but it didn’t matter anymore when your eyes fell on the crying baby.

You laughed through your tears as the little baby girl was placed on your chest for the first time. Everything about this moment was overwhelming, for both you and Eddie. Despite having one child already, this wasn’t something either of you had experienced before, and no one had told you how bittersweet it was. Pain, exhaustion and all those negative things put aside, it was all worth it.

Granted you were sure to be struggling even for weeks after this moment, but none of it mattered now that those big brown eyes were staring up at you. From first glance it seemed as though baby Munson number two would also be a spitting image of her father. Apparently his genes were strong; though you thought you could see bits and pieces of you in her nose or her lips.

It was too much for you to wrap your head around in your woozy state to keep up with all the cleaning and weighing of your little girl. It was easier for you to just sit back until they were done, although Eddie was watching every move the nurses made like a hawk.

Eventually it was all over, all the chaos and noise, everything was now calm and quiet. If there was one word to describe the moment you’d have to say serene; it felt like the world had fallen into place the second that baby pink blanket was settled into your arms.

The decision of the name came pretty quickly, it had basically been decided the second you told your husband you were expecting; at least in his mind anyway. He wasn’t subtle in the slightest about what he wanted to call her, he was convinced from the beginning she was a her. He would play the same song over and over on his guitar, hoping you’d take the hint, and you did.

“Eds?” you spoke, finally breaking the silence of the room. He hummed quietly, eyes still locked on the napping baby in your arms, your little Lola. “Is this what it felt like when you held Beth for the first time?”

Thinking back to that time made his heart swell. The first time he’d held his daughter he felt many things, but now his head was empty and his heart was full. The same full feeling that lingered the day he looked at Beth for the first time. “Yeah.”

With a quiet sniffle your eyes finally left your baby to look up at him; locking eyes. “I like this feeling.” He didn’t know if you were implying what he thought you were, that you wanted to do this again sometime, but he would jump at the opportunity to do this all again. Raising Beth as a newborn was understandably difficult for him, and he was much more prepared this time, he was positive the third time around he would be a pro.

Before you allowed in any visitors, Eddie demanded you get some sleep. You tried to insist you were okay long enough for Beth to meet her new sister and Wayne to meet his second granddaughter, but your husband felt you needed it. And apparently you did, because you were out for at least a few hours until he was shaking you awake to the sound of baby cries. You were confused at first, but once he’d let you wake up you realized where you were and what was happening. The lingering pain running through your body also assisted in that.

“Think she might want her mom,” he said, cooing down at her as he tried to shush her cries.

You were more than joyous to welcome her into your arms, letting her settle on your chest where she was quick to relax. Eddie looked at you as if you’d hung the stars, perplexed that you could have her stop crying so fast. If all it took to make a baby stop crying was their mother's arms, then he was even more annoyed about all the sleepless nights he’d had with Beth when there was such an easy solution. It only provided him more reason to begrudge Veronica.

But he didn’t want to think about her right now– or ever for that matter. This was a happy occasion and the only thing relating to her that he wanted on his mind was his first born baby girl. “Wayne and Beth are still here, they’re dying to meet her. D’you think you’re ready to see them?” You adored that he was leaving it down to you, the final decision that is. It was obvious he was also desperate for them to meet the new Munson addition, but he completely accepted if you weren’t ready for any reason whatsoever.

“Yeah. Bring ‘em in.” While he left to fetch them you raised your hand to the baby's face, brushing your thumb over her tiny cheek. She made a small sound at the back of her throat that made your heart flutter. You were already obsessed with her.

The door opened only minutes later, the three generations of Munson’s entering. At the sight of you and a pink bundle in your hold, Beth let out a squeal and rushed to you. She was by the side of your bed, grinning wildly at you. “Hi, sweetheart.” Exhaustion was still clear in your demeanor, but it didn’t matter now that you had your two daughters by your side. You could tell she was trying to get a good look at Lola, but she was struggling to see, so you allowed Eddie to take over.

The baby was passed into his arms, allowing him to crouch into a position that let him show her off. “This is your sister, Beth.” Her eyes were wide and pure as she glanced at the very tiny human, trying to get a look at the little girl’s face. In your opinion she looked a lot like her older sister already, a fact the nine year old would be happy to hear. “Can I hold her?”

There was zero hesitation from Eddie as he nodded, leading the girl over to the chair that was situated next to your bed. He sat down first with the girl secure in his arms, before instructing Beth to take a seat on his knee. She had never held a baby before, and obviously the two-time dad was going to try and prevent any risk that would include a dropped newborn, so he was going to help.

His arms were under hers to help support the weight of the baby. The pair were equally as infatuated with her as they stared down at her tiny face, listening to the quiet coos she made. You were so distracted with the sight of them that you almost missed the sound of the other Munson man’s voice.

“You did well, kiddo,” Wayne praised, smoothing down your sweaty hair before leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. You’d tried to warn him you were all gross, but he didn’t care, a true Munson trait you’d come to learn. Now that you knew he was willing to give you comfort, you leaned into his embrace a little more, the two of you watching your loves get acquainted.

“What’s her name?” he asked after a beat of silence.

You smiled, glancing up at the older man. “Lola.”

He chuckled. “Another song name?” he questioned. You hadn’t expected him to know that one, you barely knew the song by the Kinks, but you supposed Wayne had raised the man you called your husband, so he knew him better than anyone.

“His idea, obviously. You know it?”

He laughed again. “Know it? Must have heard the boy play it a million times when he was trying to learn it.” There was a fondness in his eyes like he was remembering it. You could practically see it yourself, countless days and nights of the same song blasting from his room with some incorrect chords following. It was what he still did now, only now he would do it with Beth by his side as she watched in awe.

With that the two of you fell into a comfortable silence that allowed you both to admire your little family. It was like Eddie felt your eyes on him, his joyous face turning to face you and his uncle, eyes settling on Wayne. “D’you want to hold her?” he asked. There was an emotion that crossed the elder man’s features that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It looked to be a mix between pride and adoration.

He nodded his head, clearing his throat as he pushed back the tears that threatened to build at the sight of his nephew doing so well for himself. He always knew Eddie would go on to do good things, this wasn’t exactly what he expected when he thought about what route the young man’s life would take, but that didn’t mean he was any less incredible in what he was doing. Eddie was the best damn dad he’d ever seen.

The younger man was ever so careful when crossing the room with the newborn in his arms, treating her like she was porcelain that could break any second. If the man in front of him was anyone else he probably wouldn’t have trusted them as much with Lola; he trusted Wayne with his life.

Since Beth came into their lives, the grandpa had had much practice with babies, how to hold them and take care of them, all the things he needed to be a good babysitter. So there were no qualms from you nor Eddie when it came to keeping your kids safe and protected. Eddie didn’t even feel like he had to supervise his surrogate dad as he embraced the newborn.

From the second she was placed in his arms, he was completely enamored by her, sporting a grin that was very rare for the man to possess. It was one of complete joy. “She’s beautiful.” Both you and your husband were swarmed with pride over the fact that you had created that, a feeling you hoped never wavered.

You couldn’t explain it, mainly because you knew Wayne loved you, but the look in his eye finally felt as though you had earned his deepest approval. The older man had always been so protective of Eddie, with everything that happened with his parents, all the bullying and name calling from kids in school and around the town, he’d sort of always felt the need to keep him locked in a cage where nothing could get to him to hurt him. But it was like he was giving you the key, letting you know that he trusted you wholeheartedly because he knew you weren’t going to harm him; ever.

You had made his son the happiest he had ever been, provided him with his own family by choice. Wayne wouldn’t trade him for anything, nor would he have not taken Eddie in at any point in his life, but that hadn’t been a choice made out of free will, it was circumstance. This was completely different. You had fallen in love with Eddie and given him everything he could have ever asked for, in the older man’s eyes that made you perfect. It was all the kid had ever deserved. “‘M proud of you both.”

That was all Eddie had ever wanted to hear from the man he saw as a father.

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

beth taglist - @ches-86 @kiszkawagnerwhore @ssqra @leftcloudparadise @aereth @destielbuckyboy @eddiesaws @whatawildone @husherstan @chickensinrainboots @spencestyles @simonsbluee @naivences @eddiemunsongffff @shreklover123 @stevesred @mcueveryday @spencerstits @ajeff855 @strawberrykittey @little-diva-gurl @deydeyyyhhh @what-a-strange-constellation @psychdelephantt @roguemetalmaster13 @lovesleepybearwriter @cherrypieyourface @sincerelli @lj127 @that-80s-chick @bloodyxheaven @bva14 @1800letmesleep @boomhauer @eddie-the-angel-munson @soft-munson-hargreeves @eddiesviolet @welikeicecream @eddiemunsons-sweetheart @paintmekala @audge-podgeee @s0fia-14 @asthetic9646 @urmomashleyyy @chrissysgf @hazydespair @tvserie-s-world @andreead @ily-jupit3r @certainlynotasimp @spideysbae @taz-devvil @shotoskitten @idontfeelanythinganymor3 @lexi-2004 @ilovereadingfanfics @mlktea13 @jvmisvu @munsons-sweetheart @aureatopia @crabbygabby @pikispixies @lethalbeautiful @angie1djonasgg @phantomxoxo @graywrites20 @thesundrop @yeah-seems-legit @wydmonday @fangirling-4-ever @yaskna @ems-alexandra @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ajdelilah @d4td7ewmachine @eddie-my-love-munson @lovecleastrange @hairringgt0n @matty-blossom @olivialou13 @mcntseee @obsessed-with-f1 @smol-book-nerd @alex—weasley @jessphill400 @dhtomholland @ollyoxenfrees @yamatosworld @homeagain-1 @gabriella-gvf @alphashadows @sav7689 @ariiiloves @vecnaschargingstentacles @munsonlcve @hehesafa @dearelliewrites @sl0opno0ts @lys009 @doodlebob-mp3 @sandrayaret @purple-storm @peachiicheries @haveyoumetme @lubsana @mushy-mushroom04 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @jaannaa @rockstarmunson @skyfall8600 @rockqbvebby @munsonmolls @forgiveliv @dream-alive789 @politephantommenace @lilylilyyyyyy @lydiascottage @heartyhope @etherealdarlin @xbxexcxcxa @pop-rocks-and-skittles @peakyoup-03 @iluvved @parasadic-blog @loreenswriting @gooblerstan @livlaughquinn @miracleboysel @taramaria @alysianc @okiegirl24 @mjmunson93 @espressopatronum454 @baileydjart @un-lilting @gamorxa @ureleesian @scarlettphantom @livasaurasrex @smilingtheodoisa-blog @fanaticalfantacist @joekeeryswife @ch4ot1ccoff1n @daydreamin-lol @lacunaanonymoused @renaroo123 @calamitylass @thaniyaaa_ @thxliaaa @simsteo @dazed-and-confused101 @elamity @wateryblue29 @simpfoegeorge @ahoyitsagus @katieskidmore1 @helpimspiraling @jakeysangel @sunwardsss @eddiesskittle @bittafrylight @dumblreumblr @eddiethesexy @papaya184 @sincerelyklare @lovelyarinii @nina211544 @murnsondock @darklingbrekksov @sanzu-holic @kingofhellfire @reidstea @bibieddiesgf

(if theres a strike through it wont allow me to tag you, pls make sure your tags are on!!)

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie #dad!eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic

308 notes · View notes

prisonprocess · 1 year

Photo

Learning a Trade

One thing that makes Prison fun and interesting is the opportunity you get to learn a trade.

Parker didn’t want to go to prison. He was a trust-fund baby who had a legacy admission to the best college in the state--which would have been good if the classes and labs hadn’t interfered with hanging out and partying. One of his frat bros said that Parker was “an accident waiting to happen.” True, though unoriginal (you can’t expect too much). Whatever. An accident did happen. Parker happened to be at the right place at the right time to be sent to prison for 20 years to life.

The first couple of years were hard. Parker had to live in a cell with three bunks stacked up in it, and because he was the last to arrive, he had to take the top bunk, with his nose about six inches from the rivets in the ceiling. He couldn’t just walk from place to place; he had to march with his hands behind his back. Parker liked to talk, but when he talked in line he got punished. He could never have a taco, or a margarita; he had to eat whatever grunge food they gave him in the chowhall, and if he didn’t eat it all, he got punished. He couldn’t wear any styles; he had to go around in baggy denims and a weird gray shirt that felt like canvas. He looked like one of those grunts that change your oil, except that he had his convict number stamped on his butt and across his back. He spent his days swabbing the floors in the Administration Building and standing with his nose against the wall whenever a CO walked past.

Then one day, while he was doing that, the CO said, “You. Convict. Get your ass in here.” And he went into the room where they took everybody’s mugshots when they came to prison. Parker remembered that room very well, only this time, something had gone wrong; the con that was clerking in there had just been sent to the Hole. “Can you use a computer?” the CO said. Like, what a question. Twenty thousand hours of gaming, that’s all.

So Parker leaned his mop against the wall and started entering the numbers and so forth of the fish that were being mugged that day. After that, the Photo Room was his labor detail. And when the con that was taking the pictures was let out of the joint—which would probably never happen to Parker—he was the one that got the job.

So that’s what he does now. He knows everything about the big old-school equipment they still use. And he likes to watch the fish, how they react. When they come in, they may be wearing tie-dyes and flipflops, or they may be wearing some expensive business suit, but they all look at Parker like, “Oh my God, that’s a convict! In a few minutes I’m gonna be lookin like him!” Which is true—big black numbers on your back, big black numbers on your butt; now you’re a convict. It’s like an execution—the last face you see is the guy in charge of the technical procedures.

So that was good. “Move to the left! Not that far! Look up! Look at the CAMERA, dude!” Parker Evans, convict number 82849, had learned a trade.

When he was in college, Parker took a lot of film courses. “Detectives and Derelicts.” “Weirdos and Werewolves.” “The Anatomy of Camp.” All totally gut--if you slung some jargon about hegemony or something, you were bound to get an A. But Parker remembered one of those movies It was the one that ends with the woman saying, “All right, Mr. De Mille. I’m ready for my close-up.”

20 notes · View notes

ladyfly · 1 year

Text

A Picture Says A Thousand Words

Warnings: They take their clothes off. They are Ken Doll smooth. Talk about Sex.

Sun shuffled nervously in the dim light of the Superstar Daycare Arcade after hours. He stood in front of the photo booth. He and Moon had observed it carefully and were fairly confident in their plan. All they had to do was take some photos for you. Easy right?

Sun took an artificial breath "What pose should I do first? Should I start with my clothes off or on?"

Moon spoke reassuringly in their head "Whatever you are most comfortable with."

Sun nodded and climbed into the booth "Comfortable, got it."

He puts the proper amount of coins into the machine. After flipping through all the photo border options he settles on one. It has some cutesy stars and clouds on it. Not particularly romantic.

"We could draw roses on it." Moon states.

Works for Sun. The machine counts down.

3-2-1 Flash! Sun makes hearts with his hands in the first photo. The machine counts down again. Sun takes his ruffles off quickly. 3-2-1 Flash! This time Sun poses with one hand on his chest and the other is hooked into his pants as if to take it off.

He slides his pants off a little shaky.3-2-1 Flash! The picture is terrible! Pant's half way off, one leg up, and rays squished on the ceiling. Nope! He counts the coins. Just enough for him to take one more set and Moon to take two sets.

Sun takes his pants off. His hands idly brush against his smooth crotch. Now or never. Six coins go in. Sun selects the same background as before. Stars and clouds. 3-2-1 Flash! Sun poses with his ass in the air looking back at the camera.

He flips over onto his back. Legs in the air holding his lower half up by his hips. His smooth crotch on full display. 3-2-1 Flash! one picture left. Sun leans forward and puts a hand on his smile. 3-2-1 Flash! He pretends to blow a kiss to the camera.

As the machine prints the photos Sun gets ready for moon to take over.

"So you are just going to disconnect your eyes?" Sun asks.

"Yes, hopefully it will keep us from swapping." Moon states.

Sun nods leaving the booth. He turns off all the lights and allows Moon to take over.

Moon puts his pants back on. He leaves the ruffles off for his photos. Coins in the machine and background selected he makes his first pose. Arms crossed behind his head leaning back slightly. 3-2-1 Flash! His next pose has his pants off slightly.

He has them pulled down just above where his dick would be if he had one. 3-2-1 Flash! Last pose for this set. His pants come off completely. His arms crossed behind his head. Moon turns his backside to the camera showing off his frame. 3-2-1 Flash!

First set done. Time for the next. Coins in, background picked. Time for the first pose of this set. He sticks one leg in the air and over his shoulder. 3-2-1 Flash! Not bad.... He'll take it. Next pose. He bends over with his head between his legs. Hands on his ass. 3-2-1 Flash!

Last one! He moves into a pretzel. It failed. He wasn't fast enough. The pictures he took will have to do then. He gets dressed as the photo prints. He takes all four sets of photos with him as he returns to the daycare. The lights are due to turn on on in twenty minutes.

Moon spends his time doodling on his pictures. Little Moons and hearts. A doodle of you surrounded by flowers. The lights turn on and he shifts into Sun. Sun doodles more little hearts, flowers, and pictures of you. He cuts each of the pictures apart tossing the two bad ones.

Red construction paper will work great for their card.

Sun folds it in half "What should we write on the inside?" He glues the pictures to the paper.

Moon hums "Tell them how pretty we think they are! And how much they mean to us. Then invite them to the tower."

Sun nods and scrawls in cursive 'Dearest Love, Moon and I really like you as you know. We want to invite you up to our tower for....'.

Sun pauses "For what? It's not like we can put "Hey we want to finger you dumb" on this."

Moon hums "For a night of love making. Or for a night of fun in the bedroom."

Sun tilts his head "A night of adult fun?"

"A night of fingering and pizza." Moon suggests.

Sun shrugs "Alright."

He continues the message 'for a night of fingering and pizza. Full of love. Signed, Sun and Moon.'

Sun closes the card. He scrawls 'For our Sunshine' on the front and puts it at your spot on the desk. All they have to do is wait now.

The next morning you come in early for work just like usual. Sun finishes setting up the craft table before he greets you. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you find their gift. Carefully you open the letter. You drop it at first before picking it back up.

He turns his head to face you as your eyes scan the paper. He can tell your reading the note. His rays twitch nervously. You look up at him, eyes wide and face flushed. You look back down to the paper and back up at him. Slowly you nod and mouth 'tonight'.

#sundrop x reader #moondrop x reader #fnaf #fluff #saucy

9 notes · View notes

kfc-bucketman · 1 year

Text

Lin Manuel Miranda x Ron Chernow 2

(THIS IS A CRACK FIC DONT TAKE IT SERIOUS IM BEGGING WEIRD STUFF AHEAD YOU BEEN WARNED:)

It’s been a few days since the interviewer questioned Lin where he revealed a secret affair between him and Ron Chernow, they were not going to let this go, they had to find out more. Taking acting classes and going under the most original name they could think of ‘Alex’ Alex was now part of the cast because of story magic and talking with Daveed backstage.

“So you walked in on them?”

“Yeah…um- I don’t wanna talk about it- can we change topics ?”

“Fine. Did anyone else see?”

The immediate response was a no and so there was a dead end. The only way now was to catch them in the act, Alex prepared a camera and was determined to get a photo. Listening in they heard two people talking “Lin isn’t gonna make it tonight we have to get his understudy” the two looked around and spotted Alex “you. You’ll do. Get over in the dressing room we have twenty minutes” Alex was extremely confused but did so to not blow their cover and got ready for the show, they didn’t even know the lyrics that great.

“Don’t forget from whence you came and the world is gonna know your name! What’s your name man!?”

The spotlight was put on Alex as they slowly and nervously walked to the front and mumbled “Alexander Hamilton- my name is Alexander Hamilton and there’s some things that I forgot to do but just you wait, just you wait” the show moved forward and Alex did his best to keep up almost tripping a few times. But as the show continued they got more comfortable and were able to keep a well enough performance…until the final song.

“LOOK EM IN THE EYE AIM NO HIGHER SUMMON ALL THE COURAGE THEN COUNT!”

123456789 NUMBER 10 PACES FIRE!

“I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory

Is this where it gets me, on my feet, several feet ahead of me? I see it coming, do I run or fire my gun or let it be? There is no beat, no melody Burr, my first friend, my enemy Maybe the last face I ever see If I throw away my shot, is this how you'll remember me? What if this bullet is my legacy?” And at that moment they looked into the audience clearly and saw Lin and Ron sitting there holding hands, they locked eyes for a moment, immediately Alex lost track of the song. “Hurry up!” Someone whispered to them.

“I'm running out of time, I'm running, and my time's up Wise up, eyes up I catch a glimpse of the other side” Lin started walking out with Chernow backstage.

“Laurens leads a soldiers' chorus on the other side My son is on the other side He's with my mother on the other side Washington is watching from the other side Teach me how to say goodbye Rise up, rise up, rise up, Eliza!”

Alex watched them and tried to finish quickly “RAISE A GLASS TO FREEEDOM!”

“HE AIMS HIS PISTOL AT THE SKY!”

Alex shouted at the same time as Leslie as they immediately jumped off the stage to chase after them

“WAIT!”

Alex was running down the hall with his camera and in costume, they immediately kicked down the door to Lin and Ron in the middle of a private moment to each other and

📸!FLASH! 📸

Lin and Ron’s eyes were immediately shocked like dears in headlights, Alex started running for the exit holding the camera pushing people past them as they practically fell through the door to the outside while hearing fast footsteps following behind. Alex stood and ran until their legs burned and hiding behind a dumpster made sure they had the photo and sighed in relief. Later making it to their apartment putting their things down and uploading the picture to their computer sending it to a J. Callander. At that moment when it was fully sent a loud knock came at Alex’s door and a voice spoke through it.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”

#fanfic #lin manuel miranda #Ron Chernow #hamilton musical #i’m so sorry #Lin x Ron

8 notes · View notes

ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

Batsis Meet The Batboys

Batsis x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 4.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: Y'all, I am slowly but surely making good on that promise to get all my stories reposted--also editing them so they're nice and neat! Enjoy! -Thorne

Dick:

She hummed in amusement as her father grunted and begrudgingly passed over another five into the man’s hand. “You know…it’s good to know that my perfect father actually sucks at something.” She turned and popped a piece of cotton candy into her mouth. “And it’s carnival games.”

He grunted again when he missed the balloon, and he handed her the darts. “Why don’t you try it, sweetheart?”

She handed him the cotton candy with a grin and took the darts, holding one up and making the repeated motion of throwing it. She couldn’t help but feel a little cocky as she asked, “Dad, if I get this, what toy do you want?”

She nodded to the bat in the corner. “I was thinking about the stuffed bat. Eh, dad?” He glared at her, but she laughed as she tossed the weighted dart, watching as it hit center and she pointed to the bat. “I’ll take that one.”

The man handed it to her, and they walked off; she held it up to her father. “Here. A bat for Batman,” she quipped, and he grunted at her.

“That isn’t funny, (Y/N).”

She shrugged and retorted, “It’s a little funny. You just have no sense of humor because you’re a stick in the mud.” (Y/N) shoved the stuffed animal in her backpack before reaching up and taking her father’s hand; she glanced down at her wristwatch on the opposite hand and said, “The performances don’t start for another twenty minutes. Want to go look at something else? I saw one of those spinning car rides. We could do that.”

When he didn’t give her response, she looked back up at him to see him staring off into the distance, his eyes set on the Wayne Enterprises tower. “Dad? You okay?”

He blinked as if startled from his thoughts and he directed his gaze down at her and after a few moments, he nodded. “Just thinking.”

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“I haven’t spent a lot of time with you.” He frowned and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I haven’t been a good—”

She cut him off with a ‘pfft’. “Dad, it’s alright. I’m not angry.” (Y/N) squeezed his hand in return. “I might be young, but I’m not an idiot. I know being a dad is new for you, especially since you didn’t get to watch me grow up the first decade of my life. But what matters is that you’re here now, and you’re doing the best you can. And that’s all I ask of you.”

At her little speech, he was stunned, and after a moment he knelt down and hugged her. “I love you, sweetheart.”

(Y/N) returned the hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, though they were so big and broad that she couldn’t meet her hands around his back. “I love you too, dad.”

Happening to glance over his shoulder, she immediately gasped. “Dad!”

He let her go, immediately moving to protect her. “What? What is it?”

(Y/N) pointed towards a costumed family walking and greeting the people. “It’s the Flying Grayson’s!” She grabbed his hand and tugged him along in their direction. “Let’s get a picture with them!” She could hear her father chuckle behind her, but he followed, and they stepped up to the family.

(Y/N) waved at them. “Hi Mister and Missus Grayson! Can we get a picture with you?”

The man and woman smiled at them and nodded, and a boy a couple years younger than her stepped up.

He stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Richard Grayson. But you can call me Dick.”

(Y/N) took his hand and shook it. “(Y/N) Wayne. Nice to meet you, Dick.” She gestured to her father. “This is my dad, Bruce Wayne.”

Her father smiled and tipped his head towards the boy before handing the camera to someone and stepping beside her. She and Dick had become friends instantaneously as they slung their arms around each other’s necks, their grins cheesy and wide.

The camera flashed and the man handed Bruce the camera, and (Y/N) nodded to the family. “Thank you for taking a picture with us.” They started to walk away, but she stopped them, motioning to her dad. “Can my dad take a picture of the three of you? I know it seems a little weird, but it’d be cool to have a picture of you guys, and one with you.” They nodded at her request and she gestured to her father, watching him take the photo of the family. “Thank you!”

They waved and walked off, leaving them, and she turned to Bruce. “Wanna go find seats?” He nodded, and they began moving in the direction of the tent.

***

Time seemed to grind to a halt as (Y/N)’s heart stopped in her chest as she watched them slam into the ground. Chaos filled the tent in mere seconds, people screaming, children crying, and her father grabbed her arm. “(Y/N)—”

She nodded and pulled her arm away, already starting to make her way from her seat. “I’ve got him. Go.” She didn’t wait for his reply, hopping the seats until her feet hit the dirt ground and she broke into a sprint towards the sobbing boy in the center.

She twisted her feet and slid on the ground next to him, her heart tightened when he gazed up at her, sky blue eyes wide in agony. (Y/N) reached out, wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve got you Dick. I’ve got you kid.”

She felt his arms come around her middle as his head burrowed in her shoulder; his entire body shook with every heart-wrenching sob, and (Y/N) raised one of her hands, running it through his hair as she whispered repeatedly, “I’ve got you.”

(Y/N) heard GCPD officers shouting, and she looked up, seeing her father standing beside them. “Batman,” she whispered softly.

He glanced at her before kneeling beside them and blocking the way of the fallen couple. “You two shouldn’t look at this anymore.”

She nodded and squeezed the boy on the shoulder. “Dick. We need to get away from here.”

“I can’t…leave them.” He pulled back, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m…all alone.”

(Y/N) shook her head, and placed a hand on his cheek. “I’m here, Dick. You’re not alone.” His face pinched as a new round of tears sprouted in his eyes and he lowered his head, the sobs wracking his body, and she gazed up at her father’s face, knowing the agony behind the white slits. “You’re not alone.”

Jason:

She walked alongside her father, tugging at the collar of her suit. “Can’t we make a suit that doesn’t choke me as much as this collar does? I feel like I’ve got one of Ivy’s vines wrapped around my throat.” He didn’t say anything and she rolled her eyes. “Fine. Fine. Ignore me. I see how it is.”

“You’re the one who designed your suit, Batgirl. I told you to choose breathable fabric but you refused and said you wanted adequate protection like mine.”

She blinked and glared at him. “Do you get some sick pleasure from repeating my apparent failures?” He chuckled lightly, and she looked around. “Whatever…I still think you shouldn’t have parked in Crime Alley. You know there’s always trouble here.”

“The Batmobile is fine,” he said, voice tired as if he’d answered the question a hundred times before—he had.

(Y/N) hummed, nodding to the car a few feet ahead of them and quipped, “Oh, so the kid jacking the tires off it is completely normal?”

Her father looked at her split second before turning to see it, his eyes widening in disbelief as he muttered, “I don’t believe what I’m seeing.” He moved soundlessly towards the boy, her following.

“Got to give it to him. It takes some big balls to jack the Batman’s ride,” she admired and he grunted, though she knew he was in agreement, and they walked up on the oblivious boy.

She watched her father pull his ‘Put-The-Fear-Of-Batman-Into-‘Em’ stance and he cleared his throat with an exaggerated, ‘ahem’. (Y/N) snorted at the way the boy jerked, twisting to see them staring at him; she swore he’d shit himself the way the fear bled into his eyes.

Her father glared at the kid. “You do realize that’s the Batmobile, right?”

The boy’s face pinched, and he tipped his head up, his voice haughty. “Duh. You do realize you parked your car in Crime Alley, right?” (Y/N) barked a laugh, but quickly coughed when her father turned his glower to her, and he turned back to the boy just in time to see him swinging the tire iron.

“Bad move, hotshot.” Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her father catch the tool and grip the boy by the front of his hoodie, picking him up off the ground a few feet.

He squirmed, legs kicking out for few seconds before spitting, “You want to beat up on a kid, go enlist in the GCPD like every other bully in this city.”

(Y/N) saw the gears turning in her father’s head as he leaned in, his face inches apart from the boys as he demanded, “I’m only going to ask you this once…So give some serious thought to your answer.”

The boy craned his neck, eyes narrowed as he asked, “What it is?”

Her father gave him a smirk. “Are you hungry?” The boy’s brows furrowed in suspicion, and within the next ten minutes, they were sitting on the hood of the Batmobile eating burgers and fries and sipping on milkshakes.

At one point, she’d reached over and grabbed the boy’s hands; he looked up at her and she nodded to his burger. “Slow down, Jason. You’ll eat your hand at this rate.”

He snorted but nodded, eating a little slower than before as he said, “Sorry. This is the closest thing to a home-cooked meal since I’ve had a home.” He paused and looked out at the city. “It’s funny…I was here once, looking for Wayne Manor.” He looked between them. “I was trying to case the place, but I got lost.”

Bruce looked down at the boy and questioned, “Why do you think it’s okay to steal from people?”

Jason scoffed at his question. “Are you kidding me? Look at this view.” He motioned to the buildings in the distance. “Freaking ‘Billionaire Playboy’ thinks he’s the king of the world. Pfft.”

(Y/N) elbowed him in the ribs and quipped, “Oh honey, he doesn’t think he is. He knows he is.”

The two of them cackled, but the solemn look from her father made their laughter fall short and he said, “Sometimes you just have to give people a chance Jason…they’ll usually surprise you.”

Her father’s words made Jason pause, and she saw him sink into deep thought. After a few moments, she leaned across Jason and nudged her father.

He looked at her and she tipped her head to Jason. “Does this mean he’s coming home with us?” Her father looked at him and back to her, then nodded and she shifted her arm, grinning as she wrapped it around Jason’s neck. “Well then, welcome to the family…little brother.”

Tim:

She could sense the boy following her, and after a few moments, she realized he wasn’t giving up. It wasn’t just some coincidence that they were on the same path—he wanted something from her. She glanced over her shoulder before ducking into the shadows of an alley, waiting for him to follow.

Sure enough, he stepped into the opening of the alley, looking for her, then he shook his head and stamped his foot on the ground. “No-no-no. I was so close to finding her.” He sighed and his shoulders fell in defeat as he visibly deflated.

She stepped behind him and gripped his shoulder in an steel-tight grasp, inquiring, “Why are you following me, kid?”

The kid gasped like he’d been shot as his knees collapsed beneath him, falling from her grip and to the ground. He rolled and gazed up at her with a mixture of shock and wonder as he breathed, “Batgirl.”

She glared down at him and demanded, “Answer my question before I call GCPD for you being out past curfew. Why. Are. You. Following. Me.”

He swallowed thickly before nodding rapidly. “Right. You see, I’ve been looking for you, Batgirl.”

“Yeah, I got that from the tailing. What I wanna know is, why?”

“I need to talk to you about Batman.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion at the mention of her father. “What’s a scrawny-ass kid like you, need to talk about Batman with me for?”

His mouth opened, then it snapped shut and he seemed to think on his answer for a moment. He looked at his hands and whispered, “It’s about your brother…Jason Todd.”

Hearing her deceased brother’s name knocked the air from her lungs and she barely managed to get the word ‘what?’ out without sucking in a breath.

He glanced up at her. “I know who you are Miss Way—”

(Y/N)’s hand shot out and she slapped it over his mouth before shaking her head. “Don’t say my name. You don’t know who’s listening.” He went silent as she removed her hand and held it out for him. “C’mon. If you know who I am then that means you know everyone’s identity.”

He nodded mutely and she clicked a button on her wrist; A few moments later, her bike pulled in front of the alley. “Get up. We need to go have a chat.” He took her hand, letting her haul him to his feet, and they walked over to the bike. (Y/N) climbed on before nodding to him. “Get on and hold on.” He followed her order, sitting in front of her, and she took off.

***

A few minutes later, they were stepping into one of the safe houses her dad set up around the city. She closed the door and flicked on the light, pulling the cowl off before gesturing to the table. “Sit.” He obeyed and she opened the refrigerator, pulling out two sodas. (Y/N) turned, taking the seat across from him and sliding his drink over. “Now. Who are you and how do you know about all this?”

He nodded and pulled out a giant book, placing it on the table. “My name is Timothy Jackson Drake, I’m thirteen, and I’ve been following the exploits of Batman, Batgirl, and Robin since I was two.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow at that. “Two’s a little young to be able to remember us.”

Tim looked at the book and nodded. “I know…but I have a photographic memory, and I remember the first time I saw Batman.”

“And that was?”

He paused and his voice quiet. “The night Dick Grayson’s parents were murdered.” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and he drew his eyes to hers. “I remember Dick swinging to the ground as his parents climbed the ladder. His mom went first, and his dad followed. Then…the rope snapped, and…they fell.”

Tim quieted considerably and she had to strain to hear him as he recounted, “I got scared, and I looked away. I couldn’t watch…then I heard the crash and Dick sobbing. And I saw you run down and hug him.” He met her gaze. “Then I saw this giant, dark shape falling towards you, and I thought it was going to hurt you two. But then I realized Batman wasn’t trying to hurt you…he was trying to help you both. And he went from being a monster…to becoming some great Dark Knight.”

Tim looked at her. “From them on, I’ve been having the same dream, over and over. I—”

(Y/N) raised a hand, stopping him. “When did you find out who we were?”

He nodded. “When I was nine, I was watching TV and I saw you and Dick, well, Robin and Batgirl. You—”

“Batgirl and Robin. In that order.” She pointed to herself with a face that could only be something akin to the ‘first-child-syndrome’. “I was first.”

A smile grew across Tim’s face and he nodded. “Right, Batgirl and Robin. Anyway, I saw you two on TV, and I watched Dick perform a quadruple somersault.” He grinned rather proudly of himself and declared, “I knew that somersault like I knew my own name. About six months later, Robin made his first appearance. And if Dick Grayson was Robin and Bruce Wayne’s ward, then Bruce Wayne was Batman, and you were Batgirl.” (Y/N) stared at Tim in shock, too stunned to even form words.

He shifted nervously under her gaze. “Um…Miss (Y/N)? Batgirl? Are you alright?”

(Y/N) blinked and shook her head as she muttered, “Holy shit, kid. What are you?”

“I—I’m sorry?”

She huffed a laugh and grinned at him. “You’ve got some damn good detective skills to have figured all that out.” Tim smiled sheepishly under the praise, then (Y/N) stood up from the table, stretching her arms over her head until she heard her joints pop, then she stared at him. “You got a place to sleep tonight?”

“I…no. Not at the moment.”

(Y/N) placed her hands on her hips and hummed. “And why’s that?”

“Well, in the course of looking for you, I’ve also been looking for Dick. But I can’t find him. He’s good at disappearing.”

She nodded and pointed to a room. “I know where Dick is. Go sleep in the guest room, and tomorrow we can go find him.”

As she walked past him, heading for her room, he questioned dubiously, “You’d do that for me?”

(Y/N) stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Isn’t that what family does?”

Tim’s jaw went slack and he gaped at her as she stepped into her room and closed the door behind her.

Damian:

She shut the door behind her and locked it, though there really wasn’t any reason to considering the fact that no one could get into the manor, let alone across the front lawn without anyone inside knowing.

Hauling the bag up and over her shoulder, she found it odd that no one had greeted her yet and her oddity turned into unsettling when she didn’t hear anything.

She dropped her keys in the silver bowl on the side table and looked around the foyer. “Hello? Dad? Alfred? Timmy?” She stuck her head in the kitchen door. “Anyone home?”

There was no response and she hummed questioningly, knowing that on a Sunday, everyone was home relaxing. She made her way to the study and shifted the clock hands, watching as the entrance appeared, then she descended the steps into the cave. It was even quieter than usual, and she felt the hairs stand up on the back on her neck as she made her way to the Batcomputer.

She pushed a button on the keyboard, watching as the screen came to life and said, “Give me the most recent update.”

“Confirmation?” It replied.

“(Y/N) Wayne, Batgirl.”

The computer beeped for a moment. “(Y/N) Wayne. Batgirl. Access level high.” It paused. “Access granted. Welcome Batgirl.”

“Give me the most recent update.”

“Requested.” It processed the request then told her, “Talia al Ghul entered Gotham Bay approximately two days ago, leaving behind Damian al Ghul in Batman’s custody.”

Damian al Ghul? Who the hell is that? (Y/N) raised an eyebrow as she pushed another button. “Who is Damian al Ghul.”

“Damian al Ghul is the biological son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul. Conceived…month and day unknown…year was two-thousand-three.”

(Y/N) stared at the screen, not sure if she should feel shock that her dad had a second biological kid, or disgust that he slept with Talia to get one. All the sudden, her training kicked in and she felt someone behind her. She spun around, catching the blade of a sword coming at her. She looked down at a young child, no older than ten, glaring up at her. She’d seen pictures of her father when he was a child, and though he had Talia’s emerald green eyes and olive complexion, there was no mistaking the resemblance between him and her father.

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she shoved him away. “The hell are you doing?”

He raised the sword again and said, “Testing you.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms, her gaze curious. “For what purpose?”

He ran at her waving the sword. “To see if you are really father’s daughter.”

She chuckled at that and dodged each attempt to cut her. “Trust me short-stack, I’m Bruce Wayne’s kid.”

Her insult seemed to set him off and he swung the sword wildly. “I am not short!”

(Y/N) grunted as the blade grazed her arm, and she clenched her jaw. “Alright. I’m done entertaining you.”

She let him come to her, then she twisted, wrenching the sword from his grip before tossing it away and coming back around. She gripped him by the collar and used the momentum to slam him to the ground before pulling his arms behind him and putting her knee in his back.

It all happened within seconds, and he didn’t know how to respond other than to cry out in anger. “Let go!”

She pulled his arms tighter until he stopped squirming and she leaned down. “Take a chill pill, runt.” He still cried out in rage at the name, and she heard someone grunt a few feet from her.

“Let him up, (Y/N).”

She looked up to see her father and Alfred walking towards her. She obeyed, rolling away from the boy and to her feet. “I was wondering where you were.”

Bruce nodded to Damian, who was pulling himself off the floor in a rather heated fashion. “We were trying to find out where Damian had gone.”

(Y/N) eyed him for a moment before murmuring, “So, he really is your kid?”

Damian cut Bruce off, spitting, “Are you jealous?”

She looked at Damian and snorted. “Not even an ounce short-cake.” (Y/N) laughed at the way his face pinched in rage, and she turned to Bruce. “You just can’t help collecting them, can you?” He glared at her and she laughed, walking over and nudging him. “Smile a little, Scrooge. Your face will get stuck like that if you don’t.”

He sighed, and muttered, “I don’t know what to do with him.”

(Y/N) glanced at the boy who was picking up his sword. “Too angry?”

“Belligerent is more like it.”

She chuckled and patted his back. “Don’t worry. I’ve got him.”

“(Y/N) I don’t think—”

“Relax, dad. I handled Dick’s anger, didn’t I?”

“Damian’s got Dick beat by a longshot. I don’t think he knows any demeanor other than attack.”

(Y/N) waved as she walked towards Damian. “No one’s able to beat Dick’s anger. No one in a million years could reach the level of pissed off Dick Grayson stays at.” Bruce grinned as he watched (Y/N) take the sword and move Damian towards the stairs. “C’mon pint-sized. We’re going to explore Gotham.”

“I do not want to go.” He retorted, pulling away from her.

She grasped the back of his neck like a puppy and held him firmly as they walked and she quipped, “I don’t really give a fuck whether you want to or not. You’ve been raised by homicidal psychopaths since you were born.” She looked down at him. “You need to see the real world.”

“My grandfather and mother aren’t psychopaths!”

“Oh really? So killing people for money or because honor demands it, isn’t psychopathic traits? What about when Ra’s kills people because they disrespect him?”

“That is different!”

“I mean you don’t see me poppin’ caps in people’s asses when they call me a whore, do you?”

Bruce watched the two of them climb the stairs, arguing, and he sighed, sensing Alfred walk next to him.

“Almost reminds you of Master Dick and Miss (Y/N), doesn’t it Master Bruce?”

He looked at Alfred, then smiled and nodded. “In every way, shape, and form.”

Alfred smiled. “It is such a good thing that Miss (Y/N) is the oldest. The boys have needed her.”

“She’s their protector.”

Alfred paused, resting a hand on his shoulder; Bruce met his gaze and saw such a solemnity in them as he said, “She is everyone’s protector, Master Bruce. Even yours.” Alfred walked away, then Bruce turned and looked at the photo resting on the desk. It was the first photo he and (Y/N) had taken in their suits.

He smiled at it and nodded. “That she is.”

2K notes · View notes

wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years

Note

Can u write an au where carol’s cat (goose) keeps sneaking into fem!reader’s apartment and so carol and reader communicate with each other thru notes they put on goose’s collar and they eventually fall in love (((:::::::

Goose's Best Friend

Summary: After a stranger's cat injured in your apartment one night, you decide to attach a short note to its collar to give your apologies. They lead to something you could have never expected.

Pairing: Army Pilot!Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2,792

It was the middle of the night, 2:57a.m., to be exact, when a loud crash shook you from the clutches of sleep. You sat up with a groan, rubbing your eyes to clear your vision enough to look at the clock on your nightstand. You swung your legs off the bed, eyes catching the shattered lamp on the ground. Fighting off the temptation to leave it on the ground for tomorrow, for fear that you might forget about it and slam your bare feet into the shards scattered around the floor, you slid your legs into some sweats and stood up.

You weren’t expecting, when you turned on the light, for something to move. When something darted around the corner you actually let out a high-pitched yelp, flying backwards and hitting your elbow hard off the corner of the nightstand. You felt tingling rush into the tips of your fingers as you tried desperately to comprehend what had just happened. Your breathing had already increased, and your heart was racing inside your chest. You took a hesitant step forward.

Despite being alone in the apartment, you flushed beet red in embarrassment when you found the creature you’d been so terrified of. The orange tabby cat stared up at you with wide eyes, letting out a quiet mew. Immediately your heart softened, its beat slowing down to a normal pace. When the cat made to step toward you, though, you immediately noticed the limp. Your eyebrows furrowed and you knelt down, letting it come to you. You reached out for its front leg, and it let you take it into your hand.

“Oh, sweet baby,” you muttered softly, wiping a bit of blood out of its fur with your thumb. “Come on. I think I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

It surely didn��t understand what you said, but it followed you when you stood up. It limped into the bathroom behind you, settling once it reached the tile floor. You reached into the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the red case, propping it up on the countertop and opening it up. Quickly, you located the roll of bandages and the scissors that came with it. You pulled it out and got some wet paper towels. Once more you knelt down on the ground next to the tabby.

A black collar around its neck caught your attention. You reached out for the silver tag that hung from it and spoke aloud. “Goose. Well, Goose, there’s no phone number here for your owner. Guess I’ll have to fix you up and trust you can find your own way home, huh?”

He meowed in response.

You continued to wrap up his leg. When you finally finished, you tucked the first aid kit away again. You clicked your tongue a couple times in an attempt to get him to follow you again. The both of you headed toward the kitchen, where you rummaged through the fridge for the leftover chicken from dinner the night before last. You pulled some out and set it in a small dish on the floor, a sort of apology for your lamp having done such damage to the poor animal’s leg. He helped himself quickly. Meanwhile, you dug through one of your drawers.

You popped the cap off a pen and cut a small strip of paper, struggling to keep your writing small enough to fit.

There was no number on the collar, so I opted for this. Goose found his way into my apartment and had an unfortunate mishap. I patched him up and gave him a treat. I hope that’s okay. He should be alright.

Hope he feels better soon.

You rolled the note around the tabby’s collar and taped it in place. He’d finished his treat by now, so you led him back to the apartment door. When you opened it, he cast one glance back at you, eyes shining as if in gratitude, then scurried down the hall. Just as he turned out of sight, though, someone else moved into your peripheral vision. You could have scoffed when you saw who had wandered into the hallway. She spoke before you could close the door.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Fuck off, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she hummed, a wide smirk on her face as she twirled her keys around her finger.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed. “And next time you’re using your stripes to get random women in bed, be a little quieter, would you? Some of us around here have self-respect.”

You closed the door before she could respond to that.

You and Carol Danvers had hated each other for as long as you’d lived there. The two of you were like hot and cold, or night and day. She liked loud music and late nights whereas you liked a nice book and an early night. You were quiet and soft-spoken, and Carol was a bully. In fact, she was your bully. You’d never endured such teasing and taunting from anyone else before. It wasn’t her harsh words that got to you, though. In fact, you weren’t entirely sure what it was that got to you. Maybe it was her arrogance, or maybe it was her ignorance for anyone around her. It didn’t matter.

Carol Danvers brought out a side of yourself that you didn’t know existed. You’d only have to hear a single word fall from her lips or see a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, and instantly any semblance of a good mood would dissipate and fade into annoyance. The hatred you held for her made your blood boil in your veins at the mere sight of her stupid, cocky smirk. You sometimes wished you could just reach out and slap that stupid smirk off her stupid face.

You pushed the blonde from your mind, heading back to bed. Hopefully, the coming day would be one that didn’t involve the blonde captain.

It was three days later that a quiet meow caught your attention. It tore your gaze from the TV, and you glanced toward the source of the sound. The face that was watching you immediately brought a smile to your face. You pat the couch beside you and the tabby jumped up, settling onto the blanket. You ran your hand across his head, watching his eyes close in content. You were about to turn your gaze back to the TV when you noticed the paper around his collar. It wasn’t the same one you put there. You reached out for it and removed it, careful not to rip it, and unrolled it. You flicked on the lamp.

Sorry about him. He wanders around the building. This isn’t the first time he’s gotten into someone’s room. If you fed him, he’ll probably come back to you (which I don’t mind, so long as you don’t mind that he’ll keep coming back). That’s how I know you’ll get this. So, thank you for patching him up. The vet would’ve cost more. You were right. He was just fine.

Rolled up with it was a twenty-dollar bill. You chuckled, immediately standing up off the couch. You pulled a small treat out of the fridge as you passed it, Goose trotting into the kitchen at the sight. You handed it to him and he took it happily, chowing down as you stood up straight again and continuing on your journey toward the notepad on the counter. Once again you ripped a small piece of paper out of it, ripping the cap of the pen off with your teeth and holding it there as you brought the pen down to meet the paper.

It seems so. You were right. He came back. He’s a sweet boy. I truly enjoy his visits. I don’t get many of them, so he’s welcome here whenever he pleases. And I don’t need this. Keep it.

You knelt down on the ground to Goose once again. He sat still for you as you wrapped the bill around his collar, wrapped the note around it, and then taped them both in place. Once more, you led him back to the apartment door, opened it up for him, and let him into the hallway. He rubbed his head against your calf once more before dashing out of sight. You shut the door behind him.

You huffed as you stormed into the lobby of the apartment building. Work had not treated you well that day. All you wanted was to head upstairs, put on your coziest pyjamas, order takeout, cuddle into the couch, and watch a movie or two. It was all you needed to wash away the horrible day and ease the stress that was weighing so heavily on your chest. You only wanted to pick up your mail before you did, but apparently, the universe had other ideas.

“Looking for some mail from your mommy?”

Danvers was the last person you wanted to deal with today. You didn't even bother to grumble a response to your neighbour, who was still in uniform as she stepped up beside you and unlocked her own mailbox. You were going to step away without a single word, but once more, you didn’t get your wish. Carol snickered at something, making you slam your box shut with far more force than necessary.

“What, pray tell, is so fucking funny?” You snapped.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. Nice keychain.”

The keychain was a souvenir one you’d gotten from your trip to Disney with your family a few years ago. It was a picture of you and your brothers all wearing Mickey Mouse ears and sticking your tongues out at the camera. If anyone else had said the words, you would have blushed and thanked them. When Carol said the words, you shoved the keys in your pocket and shot a glare so harsh that it would have killed if it could have.

“You’re a dick, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she corrected once more.

“Look, this whole army pilot thing might work on those girls you pick up from god knows where, but I’ve met you,” you sneered. “You use this uniform for detestable things, Danvers. It’s disgusting.”

You stormed away.

When you unlocked your door and stepped into your apartment, however, you found that you wouldn’t need pyjamas or takeout or movies to make you feel better. Your new best friend was sitting on your couch as if he had been waiting for you to arrive home. You dropped your bag at the door and moved to sit with him immediately. After stroking his head absentmindedly for a bit, you noticed the new note.

Take it. Please? Come on, you’re going to make Goose sad if you don’t. You’re going to make me sad if you don’t.

Attached with the note, again, was that same twenty-dollar bill. You rolled your eyes as you moved into the kitchen once more, handing Goose a few of the cat treats you’d bought for him. He accepted them happily as, for the third time, you prepared to write a note for Goose’s mystery owner. You didn’t even bother to sit down, hunching over the counter in a way that your back probably wouldn’t have thanked you for. You scribbled on the paper.

I’m sure Goose won’t mind at all. As for you? Well, I don’t really know you, do I? Just keep the damn money, will you? You know, Goose is going to gain a few pounds if you keep sending him back here.

Sincerely, Goose’s new best friend

After a few pats to the head, you sent Goose off with that. He was back later that day.

Goose’s best friend,

Goose does mind. He wants you to keep it. Please? Besides, if we keep attaching it with scotch tape to a wandering cat, it’s going to get lost. You wouldn’t want that, now, would you? I sure wouldn’t. As for the treats, I’ll make sure to walk him a bit more. Wouldn’t want to lose my new favourite pen pal over a couple extra pounds on the cat.

- Goose’s mom

This time, there were two twenties attached. You chuckled at that. Goose was gobbling down his treat as you wrote.

Goose’s mom,

I think that’d be quite a sight to see, you walking Goose down the street. Guess if I ever see Goose leashed and with some random woman on the street, I’ll know what you look like.

- Goose’s best friend

P.S. Just donate the money. Seriously.

As if it were habit by now, you reattached the bills, added your note, and sent the tabby out the door once again. You headed back to what you’d been doing.

It wasn’t long before the next reply.

Goose’s best friend,

Here, I’ll help you build the image. I’m 23, blonde, and about 5’6”. I’m in the army, so I’d probably still be in uniform after work. Oh, and Goose’s leash is blue, and he has a grey harness for walking.

- Goose’s mom

P.S. I split the $40 between the humane society and the local shelter

You once more had to laugh at the stranger. Of course, you immediately moved to respond. As much as you didn’t want to kick Goose out, you wanted her to get your answer as soon as possible. You grabbed your notepad.

Goose’s mom,

You sound cute.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend

It was a short note this time. You were having fun, though, and you wanted to tease your new friend a little. You attached the note to Goose and let him run off.

Once more, Goose returned with a new reply.

Best friend,

You didn’t give me anything in response. I’m offended.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend’s best friend

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way she’d signed her newest note. A pang of confidence hit your chest. You scribbled on the note.

Goose’s cute mom,

Let’s go for coffee then. 2B. I’m free when you are.

- Girl with a crush

You regretted sending that last note. You’d never gone more than 12 hours without communicating with the mystery note sender. You’d grown quite fond of the little pieces of communication you’d exchanged with her. It was actually the highlight of your day, on most days. Since sending that last one, though, you’d yet to hear back from her. It’d been four days now. You were quite upset about it, and decided the best way to fix that was some loud music. Maybe it’d piss Danvers off as much as she pissed you off.

When there was a loud knock on the door, you immediately assumed that you’d sure pissed someone off. Of course, they’d complain about you and not her. Everyone loved Carol fucking Danvers. You wished you could whirl the door open and shout at whoever was on the other side, but knew yourself better than that. You’d probably open it up and apologize, then turn the volume down and wallow in your misery to the sound of softer music.

That is, if it were anyone but Danvers.

“What? Just now realizing how damn annoying it is to hear loud music blaring from the apartment directly below yours?” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off, Danvers.”

You went to slam the door, but she stuck her hand in. It must’ve been a little harsher than you meant to, because she shook her fingers out when she retracted them. You didn’t apologize, because you didn’t even feel bad. She deserved it after giving you two years of hell having to live in the apartment below her. You’d not have been surprised if one day she invited an elephant into her room just so she could make as much noise in your apartment as possible.

As you were about to make another snarky remark, though, you noticed something. That cocky glint that was usually shining in her brown eyes was missing. She wasn’t even meeting your eyes. Her gaze was cast to the door beside your head, locked to the bronze numbers that were screwed into it. You raised a single eyebrow, waving your hand in front of her face to get her attention. She blinked as if coming out of a trace, looking back to you.

“What do you want, Danvers?” You snapped when she wouldn’t speak.

She didn’t answer. She only held out a small piece of paper. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but took it from her. The handwriting was one you’d seen so many times.

Goose’s best friend,

Coffee it is. But I’m paying. I still owe you.

- A girl who also has a crush, Carol Danvers

#carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #captain marvel #captain marvel x reader #reader insert #marvel #mcu #lesbian #wlw

604 notes · View notes

warmau · 3 years

Text

☆: bounty hunter! you x thief! minghao au tw: ment of violence/weapons | this was in my drafts so i decided to finish it

“there’s no way in the world any of you are going to catch him, but if you do -”

the head of the police, hong joshua, stands tall and straight behind the podium

the gold of his medals shines harshly under the white light of the town courthouse

and your mind wanders off as you think about the pretty penny you could get if you were to just happen upon stealing one of those medals....not that a bounty hunter should ever steal

“but if you do, the police will wipe your own felonious records clean and even offer a good amount of monetary compensation.”

that perks your interest, since you’re currently looking for some extra cash

plus being a bounty hunter isn’t a so called ‘clean’ job - you have stains on your record you’d like to see get erased.

and you know mr. hong doesn’t like you all that much so having him be the one clean up for you is sickly satisfying to some part of your psyche

you’ve been working in this shitty underground world for too long

someone’s voice comes from the back of the interrogation room and you don’t even have to look to know that it’s that newbie seokmin

all excited and bouncy and not-yet-dead-and-cold-inside like the rest of the people around you

“who is the criminal we’re chasing?”

the monitor on the rolled up caddy beside the policeman flickers on

“xu minghao. he’s a notorious thief in the city, responsible for the last string of high art robberies from the homes and personal collections of the elite.”

you snort, the ‘elite’, being rich makes you some kind of level above human now doesn’t it?

“his latest victims are the choi family, he stole not only paintings but some jewelry as well - possibly high end watches and the sort.”

“choi family?”

god this new kid knows nothing

“choi seungcheol’s family” you say with a yawn “you know, the choi seungcheol - the mayor.”

seokmin gasps and you finally look at him.

he’s got a build to him that probably helps with physical altercations but he gives off the vibe that he’d faint at the sight of blood

“exactly.”

joshua shoots a pointed look at you and you kind of dance around in the disgust

“which is why we are going out on a limb and asking for the bounty hunters to help. the choi family desperately wants these pieces returned to them.”

you look at minghao’s face on the screen, it’s obviously not a mugshot so you note that the police force has actually never caught him

it’s a kind of photo that looks like it has been pulled off a social media account

minghao is standing in some sort of white room, he’s tilting his head and looking at the camera - or maybe the person holding it - and one of his eyes has a piercing blue colored contact in it

his features are angular, sharp, and long - but they fit together to make an unusually handsome kind of face

you slide forward in your chair and take your own phone out to snap a picture of the monitor

“how much for him?”

another voice echoes somewhere from the corner

joshua’s straight-faced expression twitches like he’s trying to believe the number that comes out of his mouth.

“ten million”

you keep counting the zeros in your head as you push your keys into your motorcycle and adjust yourself on the seat

you could retire with that kind of money. you live a frugal existence as it is.

you know that minghao is probably also somewhere in the city, still plotting for his next job.

he’s been hitting rich people’s houses for two months straight and the choi’s are a victory, for sure, but they’re still not the biggest shark in the ocean.

the people who sponsor them, the people who made seungcheol mayor, minghao has to be going for them next

you make a list of the three family names that come to mind, luckily enough you also know someone who works in the business of ‘technology’ or so who can help you track down the lead forming in your head

you look one last time at the picture of minghao on your phone before you slip it into your jacket pocket and pull out of the parking lot

“how much?”

“stick-up-his-ass hong said ten million, the choi’s really want there watches and monet’s back.”

jihoon turns to you with a deadpan expression

“you know monet’s can go up to ten times that amount right?”

you shrug and shove a half eaten bar of candy in your mouth that you stole from a bowl by his computer

“i don’t know, i didn’t go to college for art history. anyway, can you help?”

“how much of your cut will i get.”

you lick your lips and think for a second

“if i get him alive i’ll cut you in thirty percent. if he’s dead, ten.”

jihoon taps his foot and adjusts the glasses on his nose, he told you once they’re for the blue light or whatever that come out of his six computers.

“deal.”

you come over and see him open up the page of one of the most expensive and professional art dealers in this city, jihoon mentions that this person is in charge of the buying accounts for all of the three families you mentioned

he also happens to manage the choi’s, so looking into him could lead to possible other leads for the three targets you have in mind

“if minghao is planning to rob them - he needs to know what pieces to take. he’s probably also tracking down what they’re currently thinking about buying.”

“yeah, and im gonna assume - you know, bounty hunters intuition or whatever, that he’s going to hit whichever family recently bought the most expensive piece.”

jihoon’s fingers type faster than your eyes can follow. he doesn’t even seem to move his face, just his pupils and then a bunch of screens are popping up everywhere

you had befriended him on an assignment to catch a hacker - not jihoon, although he’s actually got a price on his head too - but another hacker who was clambering up jihoon’s business

you watch as jihoon does his magic, and then in about ten or so minutes you have an answer

“one of the family’s just bought and received a vase from this guy, it won its auction at around twenty five million. it’s from the ming dyn-”

“which family?”

you don’t care if they got a vase, a sofa, a painting, or a gold and diamond encased piece of potato - something in your stomach told you that whoever just spent the most was on minghao’s radar and minghao was on yours

jihoon adjusts his glasses

“that would be ... oh, that would be the yoon family.”

you taste something iron on the tip of your tongue, yoon jeonghan was on the cover of last month’s vogue if you remember correctly

“got it. thanks.”

you shrug your jacket back on and jihoon spins around in his chair when you get to the door of his dark apartment

“remember, thirty if he’s alive!”

“and ten if he’s not!”

you don’t like the fact that this new kid, seokmin, is standing outside the giant gates of the yoon family mansion

he’s wearing a cut off white t-shirt and new balances for christs sake

“hey!” he looks like he’s seen the sun when he spots you sort of loitering nearby, you try to ignore him but he’s coming over

“hi.”

“staking out the yoon’s? my first impression was they’d be minghao’s next targets because they’re rich and like art too.”

you wonder how he knows that so you ask, half expecting he might actually tell you - which would be a stupid thing to do.

he does.

“oh! i mean their son is a designer, they must be the best people to steal from.”

that’s so fucking ridiculous but he’s actually right. going to tell jihoon im cutting his share in half since apparently his intel could have been free.

“uhuh. well good luck.”

the words are stale when you say them, but sparkling eyes seokmin takes them to heart with a gracious “you too!”

you actually didn’t come to stake them out - you came to see if minghao might be staking them out

no good thief actually just bursts into someone's home, they need to know every nook and cranny of a place if they want to get out clean

judging by minghao’s track record, you can tell he’s cautious and detailed

you circle the house at a safe distance and then head back home, you read a bunch of articles on minghao’s past crimes and eat the only thing you have in your fridge which is mint ice cream - it was left there by a late night hook up who’d doordashed 7/11 even when you told them not to

you do some other minor research on smaller bounties you could chase after minghao is caught, none are interesting or any where near the price of minghao’s

you lay down and the stray you recently started letting crawl through the fire escape makes a little fuzzy circle at the base of your feet

you look at your phone, look at the photo of minghao

wonder if he’s as detailed orientated in other things aside from stealing. looks like he’d know what to do with his hands.

you fall asleep with the phone on your chest.

the next day, you’re texting jihoon about the seokmin thing - he tells you to piss off and not even think about downing his cut or he’ll leak your social security on the internet

that’s so fucked up dude

you’re a shit bounty hunter and im a hermit hacker we aren’t good people anyway

fine, are the yoon’s buying any other vases or whatever

actually, they won an auction a month ago for some ceramics. heard they’re coming tomorrow.

oh, might be a good time to steal that vase and some extra trinkets too for our thief

look how ugly these things are tho

jihoon sends you a photo pulled from the auctioning website, they are ugly, but they’re expensive

you rub your temple and decide that’s enough for today, you don’t see seokmin around either

seungcheol’s generic smiling im-a-good-mayor-and-i-kiss-babies face is grainy on your tv

you eat the takeout you picked up on the way back and are only mildly surprised when you notice someone familiar in the crowd

this is old footage, from a rally he did before the crime

your eyes pan to the corner and pull out one person from the sea of faces, everyone looks so excited to see seungcheol, minghao stands staunch and unwavering in the moving bodies

he’s not grinning - he’s kind of half smirking from what you can tell

he really does his research, i kind of like him

you put the chopsticks into your mouth, yeah. i think he’s going to be a fun one to catch.

goddamn seokmin is here again - on the night the drop shipment of the ceramics is scheduled - you tell yourself you were a clown for believing all that ‘i just thought they’d be the right family!’ bullshit he was telling you about

he probably has an informant of his own, definitely not jihoon though. seokmin is the type jihoon would rather drive a usb through his head than ever cooperate with

you avoid him the second you see his strong shilloute and make your way to the otherside of the house, right on the outskirts of the back garden

there’s one person in it - none of the immediate yoon family you can recognize, probably just a worker

you know there’s three entrances from here - the garden doors, the side opening that leads to an underground washing room, and there’s also a way to get into the back of the kitchen

you are betting that either one of them might be a good choice for minghao, but you put your bet on the washing room - it has stairs that lead up into a spare bedroom which is adjacent to a gallery type room inside of the huge mansion

it’s where the family will probably put the items, rich people love to be all like “look at my room of expensive things you don’t get to touch”

you stick your tongue out to yourself, morally you don’t care about thievery. especially when it’s stolen art stolen from people who just want it to feel superior to others

but minghao is worth ten million, that’s why im taking the higher ground on this ‘crime’

bounty hunters are allowed to carry guns, but you’ve never liked them - you like to use mace instead

that being said, you’ve brought your gun along - unloaded - just to use a scare tactic if push comes to shove. it’s heavy and it reminds you constantly of the job you came to do.

no getting distracted by newbie muscle heads or how hot you’re coming to think minghao is

you hear something - eyes darting to behind one of the columns of a large gazebo in the garden

you swear you see something slink across as the only person in the garden gets up to head back inside

keeping your movements and noise to a minimum, you position your body for a better view and after what seems like two heartbeats you see him dart from the enclosure and toward the mansion

you don’t follow immediately, the only way you’re going to catch someone who is so elusive is if you one up him

you have the element of surprise, but not really, he might be expecting personal guards of the yoon household or the police

not a rogue bounty hunter with a can of mace

but he’s still expecting - and someone whose entire job is to be like a shadow - you’ve got to be careful

you wait the amount of time you deem appropriate and then do the same, you realize when you slip through the backdoor of the washroom that now you’re also committing a crime of breaking and entering

you’re sure the yoon’s won’t mind though - you are about to make sure their ceramics and vases don’t get stolen

plus, you checked up on all of them, the main family shouldn’t be home. the only people on premises are some cleaners and the gardener. you’re sure minghao knows that too.

you map out the house in your mind from what you’ve learned in the past couple of days and find the gallery with ease

you can see the large double doors are open just enough for a person to slip through

so he’s already in ther-

“HEY YOU! YOU BETTER STOP!”

your eyes widen and you push inside to see what’s going on

seokmin, flashing something in his right hand and holding a light in the other is pointing at the long, lean figure of minghao

he’s standing there in the circle of light holding the vase you and jihoon had been looking at before

his eyes are unimpressed when they settle on seokmin

“ok, ive stopped - now what are you going to do?”

“im going to arrest you and bring you to the poli-”

the vase that’s held professionally between both his arms then gets dropped and crashes to the floor

the crescendo of noise startles seokmin because it’s the one thing all these new kids who want to try this kind of work get wrong

the thief is never going to drop the valuable goods - except they are, getting caught is worse then anything else.

there will always be shit to steal - except you know if you’re in jail.

minghao beelines for the doors and you’re there, big grin and mace in hands

“hi!”

his eyes widden and you tackle him with ease, one hand bent behind his back as you make sure to keep your weight off him

“ugh, that big idiot had a partner?”

“he’s not my partner, by the way that vase is worth more than what im getting for your head.”

minghao shifts his cheek against the hard floor of the gallery and he’s smiling back up at you

“how much for me?”

“choi’s but ten million.”

he makes a pfft sound as he releases air from between his lips

“cheap as fuck.”

seokmin tries to bound over to help once he comes to, but you bite at him to back off. this is your win.

he says he can drive you and minghao to the station, but you tell him again that you’ve got this on your own

you kind of feel bad about how flustered he is and you tell him he can still brag about how you two were the only people with sense to look at the yoon’s

for some reason, that actually brightens him up. he leaves to go downstairs and you don’t know if he sticks around or goes off on another job.

you get the handcuffs on minghao’s wrists before the workers, who hear the noise come running up in terror

you flash your bounty id and they scramble to get a hold of the local police office

minghao sits up against the wall and you sit directly in front of him - you can see him better with the lights on

his dark hair is long in the back and messy, his eyes are brown and long and twinkle when you look into them

the bottom corners are highlighted by what you can’t tell if is sweat or glitter

“you’re different”

he starts and you put up a finger

“im not different, im just experienced.”

“you like money more than you like your morals.”

you put the finger down and gleam at him

“bingo”

“so why are you sitting here waiting to hand me over for some chump change like ten million dollars when you and i are inches away from a collection that’s worth close to a hundred million?”

you touch the holster on your hip and tilt your head

“we - even the two of us - wouldn’t be able to steal everything in there. we’d need a whole team and-”

you start as minghao open’s his mouth to counter. all his teeth are white and straight.

“and if we could, you’d backstab me and take it all and run because you just said it yourself. money over morals.”

“ive got morals when im dealing with the right people.”

the snort you let out is louder than you expect and it makes minghao cock an eyebrow

“don’t care, you’re a professional liar. plus hong said he’d clear our records and get us that money.”

“joshua hong works for choi seungcheol who is a bigger liar than i am and you know it.”

there’s real spite in the way he says it - you assume he’s probably had interactions with both. or he’s just grown up in this city like you have, all the trouble politics can cause - all the stupid, underhanded shit that goes on

he leans a little forward

“plus, you’re hot. usually anyone who manages to catch me is very gruff and very mean.”

“i am gruff and mean, don’t test me.”

you banter but then look around and the gardener who was supposed to stay up here with you and minghao has turned his attention elsewhere - normal people don’t like facing criminals and well...whatever category bounty hunters are in.

“what’s the most expensive thing in that room.”

you ask under your breath suddenly, the police won’t be here for another five minutes at least.

you text jihoon to tap into their comms and let you know the exact moment they’re at the door.

minghao shines that grin, slender fingers lift up and toward the door

“i broke it, but that place is jammed of other million dollar treasures. i saw an original signac that could score us close to 17 million.”

“a signac? who is that?”

minghao laughs with his hands still behind him

“so you’re hot but not into art, i can still work with that. he’s an artist, paul signac. the yoon’s own ‘la corne d'or.’”

you shrug your shoulders again and pretend you don’t hear the first part but mutter that art doesn’t make sense to you and minghao lets out another quieter laugh

“it’s a painting of boats but it looks psychedelic almost, super colorful. thirty six or so inches across.”

you think to yourself - one painting and it’s 17 million, what if you get another painting with it

“ok...anything else in there catch your eye?”

minghao wiggles a little

“lots, i know art like people know starbucks orders. very well.”

your phone pings and it’s jihoon’s warning. the police are going to be coming upstairs to take minghao off your hands in the next sixty to ninety seconds.

“i can’t trust you.”

he thins his lips and then taps your foot with his own, does a weird jostle of his body and then to your shock breaks out of his handcuffs with ease

he rubs his wrists as you think you hear some noise downstairs and the gardener jumps out of his seat to go greet the police without noticing the thing that just happened only a feet away from him

“i’ve had a bobby pin this whole time, i could have run away five whole minutes ago instead of giving you a history lesson on boat paintings worth more money than you’ve ever dreamt of.”

you don’t miss a beat

“let’s get the fucking boats then.”

you get up and minghao takes a hold of your hand in a way you haven’t experienced since maybe middle school

like when a beloved childhood friend would take you and lead you toward the playground, giggle about school or your parents, pull you in to a fun moment under the basking sun

you and him stand, hand in hand, in front of the painting he mentioned

it’s pretty, it almost looks like it was drawn by crayons, you wonder why it’s so expensive

“let’s take it and the two sketches over there, one’s a lady with a piano the other is a couple under an umbrella

“are they-”

“at least two million each. plus - we can comeback for the ceramics later.”

you don’t know why it makes you feel warm - but it does and you take the two framed sketches off the wall

the painting is large, but minghao has done this enough times before that he knows how to handle it - you two are out the hall and down the stairs by the time you hear the police shuffling up them

took their time thinking he’d just be sitting up there wrapped up like a present huh?

you think to yourself, minghao is quick on his feet and leads you in the direction of a inconspicuous looking tiny car that could seat you, him and maybe that stray that hangs around your apartment

he opens the back and it is a perfect size for the painting

“did you come here on your bike?”

you realize the whole look of you must give away the fact that you ride one

“never, i dont bring it on jobs because people know what it looks like.”

he tips his fingers toward you in acknowledgement

“good because this car isn’t mine either, so add auto theft to the list of crimes you’re committing with me on this first date.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, can’t tell if he’s joking or not

he hits the gas before there’s any movement on the street where it’s parked - the yoon mansion fades into the distance as he rushes into the evening traffic

“is this the part where you kick me to the curb?”

you ask

minghao takes one hand off the wheel and puts it on your thigh

“this is the part where you tell me where you live so we can go get your things and ride off into the sunset, bonnie.”

you laugh

“so you’re clyde?”

he looks at you at a red light - looks at your lips and then your eyes

“do you want me to be?”

you can decide the answer to that yourself

*if you’re interested here is la corne d’or on the sothebys website.

#listen idk what this is really but im worldbuilding a lot arent i #seventeen scenarios #seventeen au #seventeen imagines #minghao au #minghao scenarios #minghao imagines #the8 au #the8 scenarios #the8 imagines #the8 #minghao #seventeen #minghao x reader #the8 x reader #violence/ weapons/

380 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Mine Again - Harry Styles

a/n: this is something i just thought about after my nap today lol, so enjoy this treat, a classic exlovers to lovers fic!

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

word count: 3.4k

masterlist

Seeing an ex is never easy. Whether it’s by your choice or not. Working together with an ex is even harder and now you brought a situation on yourself where this is your reality.

Arriving to the studio of The Late Late show you immediately get escorted to your designated dressing room where a hair and makeup artist are already waiting for you. Today you are here to promote your new movie, Don’t Worry Darling with your onscreen lover, Harry Styles, however, what no one else in the building knows is that once the two of you were real life lovers.

Your romance blossomed during filming, having spent so much time together on set, it didn’t take long for a relationship to form between you and him, the chemistry you shared was immense and undeniable, anyone could see that and you felt like you were burning in a bonfire of the most intense feelings you’ve felt for any man. It was passionate and intoxicating, it felt like something that could only happen in movies, but it was your reality.

However filming ended and you were forced to go your separate ways, you both tried hard to keep what you had and though your feelings never changed, distance brought the worst out of the both of you. Six months after you became an item, you mutually agreed to break it off.

You haven’t seen him since then, meaning that it’s been five torturous months without having any contact with him and now that promo has officially kicked in, you are forced to travel around and make appearances with the man you love, yes, still love more than anyone on this Earth. Not even five months and absolutely no contact could change your feelings for him, however he might already be over you at this point, having forgotten about feelings and memories you still hold close to your heart.

How has he been doing? What is he like now? Has he been thinking about you? Does he miss you? What is it going to be like to see him for the first time?

The questions flood your mind as you sit in the chair and let the professionals work their magic on you, covering up the dark circles under your eyes that formed due to the sleepless night you had the day before, nonstop thinking about Harry and what it’ll be like to see him for the first time again.

After careful elimination, you choose a dress for the appearance, it’s tight and short, the fabric is covered in glittering sequins down your body and the long sleeves as well and while the dress covers a lot up from the waist, it makes up in the lack of length on your legs as the end of it barely reaches the upper part of your thighs, ending it black feathers that tickle your freshly shaven legs. The nude heels add even more to them, making you appear like you could hit the runway any moment when in reality you are not high enough to be a model.

There’s still some time until the taping starts, James drops by to say hello and tell you how excited he is to have you and Harry on tonight and you chit-chat for a little before you go to take a quick business call outside. When you’re done with that, you head back to your dressing room to take a few quick photos to post later, but right as you near your destination, a door swings open down the hallway and Harry steps out, wearing a black suit, of course, head to toe Gucci. The crispy grey shirt’s first few buttons are left undone, allowing you a glimpse of his toned chest and his necklace with the tiny cross pendant on it.

He looks good. No, he looks absolutely stunning, just like he always does and just the sight of him takes your breath away, forcing you to stop in your tracks when you lay your eyes at him. He spots you as well, stopping to take a look at you before you see a small smile on his perfect pink lips.

“Y/N, hi! You look… gorgeous,” he speaks up lowly, his eyes raking your body up and down.

“I, uhh—Thanks!” you breathe out, feeling already flustered. How are you gonna survive the interview, sitting next to him, talking about what it was like to play a married couple?!

His hand moves a bit and there’s a moment of awkwardness, neither of you really knowing what to do, last time you saw each other you kissed as your hellos, but now it’s not an option, obviously. At last, he moves forward and goes for a hug.

He envelopes you in his arms as you wrap yours around his neck, the warmth of his body bringing you a sense of home and it hits you hard how much you’ve missed him in these five months.

You swear he holds you just a second longer than what would be appropriate before his arms fall from around your frame and you force yourself to let go of him, though every fiber in you is protesting against it.

“How—How have you been?” he asks, his beautiful green eyes finding yours.

“I’m good. I’m good,” you nod. “What about you?”

“Same. Just the… usual stuff.”

“Writing music?” you ask with a soft smile. You still vividly remember those nights you spent together after a long day of filming, crashing at either his or your place and you often found him strumming his guitar in a corner, scribbling words down into his notebook. Sometimes he sang you the songs he came up with, sometimes he kept them to himself.

“Yeah, I’ve been writing a lot lately,” he admits with a shy smile.

Someone calls his name down the hallway and his head snaps up before looking back at you.

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you soon, right?”

“Yeah,” you nod, stepping aside so he can walk past.

“And you really look amazing, Y/N,” he calls after you one last time before jogging down the hallway.

You walk into your dressing room and shutting the door you lean your back against it, huffing heavily as you try to recollect yourself. Somehow, this encounter went really well, because the two of you were civil and respectful, but it was also a painful shock to see him in the flesh again. It was one thing to see pictures of him here and there, but actually meeting him, hugging him, talking to him… you need time to process it all.

Unfortunately, you don’t have much of that. Twenty minutes later you are walked to your spot behind the curtains from where you’ll walk out when James calls your name. Just as you arrive Harry appears as well, casually talking with one of the camera guys, having a laugh and just as he sees you, his eyes fall down your body again and you swear you see him gulp hard before turning his attention back to the man.

“Ready?” he asks upon walking up to you, a hand coming to rest on your lower back. Glancing over your shoulder you look down at his hand, lips parted at the feeling of his welcoming touch. He sees your glance and pulls his hand back quickly. “Sorry, it’s a habit, I guess,” he mumbles, blushing softly.

“It’s fine,” you smile. Of course it’s fine, for what you care, he could throw you over his shoulder like a cave man and run out of the building, you wouldn’t say a word. You want his touch on your body, you’ve been craving it since the moment you last saw him, but are you even allowed to admit it? You have no idea what he is thinking or feeling, you can’t just come right at him like that.

Harry fixes the lapels of his suit jacket, but what he doesn’t see is that the collar of his shirt is kind of stuck under the jacket.

“Your shirt is… let me fix it,” you breathe out and he turns to face you, letting your delicate hands fix his outfit, perfecting the look to the tiniest bit. “There, you look great,” you smile, your hands sliding down his chest before they fall to your sides again.

“Thank you,” he nods smiling back at you before offering an arm that you take gladly. He knows how much you hate high heels and that you are always scared of tripping and falling and being the gentleman that he is, he’ll be the support you need.

The taping soon starts and the two of you stand patiently behind the curtain as James introduces you.

“And now, please welcome the stars of the upcoming hit movie, Don’t Worry Darling! Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles!”

The crowd starts clapping and cheering as the curtain moves and the two of you walk in, arms linked and Harry makes sure to slow down when you walk down the few little stairs. James welcomes the both of you with two kisses before everyone takes their place, James behind his desk, you and Harry sitting on the couch.

“Thank you so much for dropping by tonight, guys!” James smiles at the two of you.

“Thank you for having us,” Harry nods with a soft smile.

“You both have been guests on the show separately, but tonight you are here as a pair, since your latest movie, Don’t Worry Darling is hitting the theaters this weekend. How are you feeling about that, excited to see the film finally?”

“Very excited,” you nod with a smile. “I can’t wait to see the final version, because obviously we only know the version we envisioned while filming, but the actual movie is going to be something else.”

“Y/N, your role in the movie was originally handed to Florence Pugh who had to step back because she broke her arm,” James points out and you nod.

“Yes, I stepped in her place just about a week before production started and if I’m being honest I was scared that people would prefer to see her in the role, but I had a talk with her actually and she said she helped Olivia, the director to pick out the person to take her place and she said she instantly knew I would be perfect for it, so I trust her.”

“That’s amazing to hear, that the two of you didn’t have any rivalry going on,” James enthuses.

“She actually visited set a few times,” Harry chimes in and you nod.

“Yeah, we had a great time together.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun, the three of you together,” James chuckles. “So, the two of you play a married couple in the film and if I’m not mistaken you didn’t know each other beforehand. Was it hard to get into the roles with not much background on each other?”

“We met up a few times before filming started to get to know each other more and I think we hit it off right away, so it wasn’t hard for me,” Harry speaks up and you nod along.

“It was obviously a little different situation than when you meet someone and become friends, because as we got to know each other more, we had to go through scenes that were meant for a couple that was already years into their relationship, but I think it strengthened our friendship,” you answer, hands laid flat on your bare thighs.

No lie has been told, everything you said was the truth. You just left out the part where you become real life lovers and started dating a month into production.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting for a while now, have quite a few roles under your belt, what did you think of Harry’s acting?”

“I think that he is a wonderful actor and I hope people will give him his much deserved credit for it. He is often still seen as just a silly singer from a former boy band and they don’t take him seriously when he really is a very talented man. You’ll see in the movie as well, his role was a tough one, needed a lot of work and a wide range of emotions, but I think he did an amazing job.”

You dare to glance at him at the end of your little speech and for a moment you forget about the audience, James and the cameras. He is looking at you with so much gratitude and thankfulness. You remember every talk you had where he opened up to you about wanting to be taken seriously in the acting business, that he is not trying to be just a joke and another failed attempt of a singer to try himself out in movies. He told you how scared he is of not being good enough when you saw him every day on set and you were blown by his eternal talent and special take on his role. He deserves to be praised, he deserves every bit of it.

“It was easy, I had a great partner to learn from,” he smiles softly and you feel the heat crawling up your neck.

“You two really have the chemistry we’ve heard so much about, I can’t wait to see it on the big screen!” James sighs. “Tell me a little about what it was like to film? You guys spent a lot of time together, must have made a lot of memories.”

You take a deep breath as all those memories mentioned flood your mind. You had the best time of your life not just with Harry, but with the whole crew. Leaving after production was wrapped really broke your heart.

“It didn’t even feel like working,” Harry starts. “We always joked around, had lunch or dinner together, we were like a big family. It was so nice to have so many amazing, talented and hard-working people around you all day.”

“The jokes never stopped,” you add chuckling.

“I wish I could have been on set!” James laughs wholeheartedly. “That didn’t happen, but we have a little something. The crew has put together a short BTS video of the filming, so let’s have a look at that,” he announces and the video starts playing on every screen in the studio.

It’s a short little montage, but it captures the vibes of filming just perfectly. Clips shown from set are not just of you and Harry, but all the other cast and crew members. Goofing around, having lots and lots of laughs, dancing on set, which happened quite often and just all of you having a great time. Some of the slips however pain your chest, the ones of you and Harry.

This was very early into your relationship, no one on set even knew you were together, but seeing yourself on the screen you can’t deny the sparkles in your eyes every time you were around him.

A clip shows the two of you between two takes, doing a goofy dance in the kitchen of the home that was used as the set of the house of your characters, you are both wearing your costumes, Harry looks great in his suit and your long retro dress is flowing around you with every movement you make. He grabs you by your waist and spins you before you end up in his arms laughing crazily, you were so happy, so carefree. You wish you could go back to that moment…

Another footage was taken in your trailer when Harry took the place of Clare, your makeup artist and tried to do your eyeliner but miserably failed. In the video, he is gently clasping your chin, angling your face for himself as his other hand is working on the line, but it’s wobbly and way too thick, so you both end up just laughing when you check yourself in the mirror.

And there are some small moments of the two of you, moving around on set, lying in bed between takes, sitting in your chairs while eating, just tiny memories you still cherish so much and wish to live through again, but it’s the past. And it wouldn’t hurt this much if you knew Harry from the video was still yours.

When the video ends you need to blink a few times as your eyes have watered a little. You catch Harry’s gaze and he looks worried, he clearly wants to ask if you’re okay, make sure it was just the sentimentality of the moment, but he doesn’t have the chance, the cameras are still rolling.

“That looked like so much fun! Next time make sure to invite me on set too!” James jokes and you force a laugh out of yourself.

A few questions are asked about future plans and just generally about your careers before the taping finally ends. You thank James for the invite again and a photo is taken of the three of you, you standing in the middle with the two men on your sides. When everything is settled, you head to your dressing room, using the chance to slip away silently while Harry is still chit-chatting on the set.

In the comfort and silence of the dressing room, you lean onto the vanity, staring at yourself in the mirror, finding it ironic that on the outside, you look perfectly fine, healthy and pretty, but on the inside… you could scream. You miss Harry so much, you hoped that your feelings for him have toned down a little over these five months, but it was just the same if not even worse.

A faint knock is heard on the door and you quickly fix yourself before calling out to the person outside. The door opens and for your surprise, Harry steps inside, closing the door behind him.

“Hey, you disappeared so fast,” he softly says.

“Yeah, I’m just… a little tired,” you lie, though you know exactly he can see right through you.

“Y/N, I saw that look in your eyes after the video…”

“What look?” you ask with a huff. “What do you want me to say, Harry?”

“The truth,” he answers. “I’m not James, don’t bullshit me.”

“You want the truth? I’ll give it to you, but don’t blame me if it’s uncomfortable for you,” you chuckle bitterly, throwing your hands into the air. “I’ve been miserable, Harry. I miss you so fucking much, seeing you today was like Hell. I really thought it would be easier, but now I’m stuck with going from one interview to the other with red carpet events all around the world, seeing you every day when I terribly miss you and it fucking sucks, because you might not even feel the sa—“

You don’t get to finish, because Harry crosses the distance between the two of you, his hands grab your face and pulls you into a hard and passionate kiss. His lips move perfectly against yours and it feels like he is trying to squeeze every missed moment from the past five months into the kiss, making you melt into his arms completely.

He is everywhere. He is all you can taste, you breathe him in, his hands are everywhere on your body and your chest is pressed tight against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, locking him into your embrace. Your tongues dance, teeth tugging and pulling on lips, it’s a whole mess, but it’s the most perfect mess you’ve ever been. He takes your breath away completely and you don’t even want it back if it means you can’t have him.

Harry pulls away first, both your chests heaving wildly from the heavy make-out session and he looks down at you with hooded eyes.

“If you think I haven’t missed you like crazy… you can’t be more wrong, baby. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to call you a thousand times and beg for you to come back to me, but I thought you already moved on.”

“Moving on?!” you huff with a tired smile. “Harry, I could never…”

“Alright, then I’m not letting you go again. No way you are walking out of this building without being mine again.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words as you pull him down for another kiss, needing to feel his lips on yours.

“I never stopped being yours,” you whisper against his lips and he moans weakly before crashing his lips against yours again.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x famous!reader #harry styles exlovers to lovers #harry styles blurb

2K notes · View notes

river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

Text

i want dick grayson to be annoyingly perfect in the smallest of unimportant ways. and i want it to irritate the living hell out of everyone around him

every now and then, jason and dick will go to different chili dog carts around the city, and dick will sit and nod in agreement as jason nitpicks the food, occasionally offering his own two cents. the conversations are tense and if the topic strays from anything except food jason books it, but it’s progress, and dick’s grateful. but he doesn’t understand why jason always growls at him when he’s preparing his chili dogs, chalking it up to jason’s obsessiveness about that food in particular. dick figures he’s probably doing it wrong. until one day, jason bites out a rough question, asks him how he did that. dick’s confused, until jason points out, “you tear open the top of the ketchup packet in a perfect line every time. and you get all of the ketchup out of the packet in one smooth squeeze, and you never get any on your fingers, and i don’t understand how.”

roy was, arguably, a better archer than ollie. green arrow had been birthed from the island, from the trauma of survival. roy, however, had been practicing since he was a kid, and now that he was well into his twenties, he could safely say he was one of the best shots in the world. he could beat all his friends at darts, shoot an apple off wally’s head, and was generally pretty awesome. or, he would be awesome, if only dick fucking grayson would stop making every single shot of anything he threw in a trash can. no matter what he was throwing away, no matter the angle, no matter the wind or rain, as long as the trashcan was in eyesight, anything dick tossed would inevitably end up inside the garbage. sometimes, dick barely even glanced at the damn thing, just took note of it a threw the trash, expecting it to land in the proper place. and it always did. the worst part was, dick didn’t even seem to notice it. he wasn’t actively trying to make every shot. when asked, dick just shrugged and said “we had some pretty good knife throwers in the circus.”

tim’s memories starting out as robin were a whirlwind, a push-pull of bruce’s mistrust, then bruce’s acceptance, of dick’s fear and hesitation, then of dick’s love. he still remembered dick making the two of them hot chocolate in the kitchen after a day of training, tim’s muscles sore and entire body aching but the feeling of pride, because he was good enough to be robin, he knew he was. he hadn’t expected that to happen anytime soon again, given the way their relationship had fractured after tim had left dick’s batman, a terrified fury in his eyes. yet, he’d been proven wrong when, after a particularly rough arkham breakout, alfred asked both dick and tim to stay instead of returning to their own apartments. just because the manor brought back a feeling of warm nostalgia, however, doesn’t mean it kept the nightmares away. he came down to the kitchen and saw dick already up, moving around the stovetop. with a knowing look in his eyes, dick grabbed another mug to make tim some hot chocolate. tim was washed over with a feeling of relief, of acceptance. dick slid the mug towards him and tim took a sip, letting the rich chocolate warm him up from the inside. it was delicious. his little sigh of pleasure must have been audible, but then he remembered something he noticed. “dick. did you use alfred’s recipe for this?” and dick laughed, responded with, “nah. too much work. i just sort of tried to remember what was in hot chocolate, and eyeballed most of the ingredients. i’m glad it turned out good though. no clumps too, that’s good.”

donna didn’t care how old she got, playing in the park with dick never got old. as one of her oldest friends, the two of them could just walk around the park, in companionable silence, just letting themselves relax and enjoy the moment. so, of course, dick would break the silence and ask if she had any earbuds, because it was getting to quiet for him. donna laughed, and reached inside her pocket, fingered past the keys, and grabbed the headphones. the tangled little ball that came out made her sigh, and she pulled on an earbud to loosen it, only managing to make one of the many knots tighter. then, dick took the headphones out of her hands with a here, i got it, and with a few quick tugs, the tangled monstrosity unraveled easy as breathing. then, completely unaffected, he handed her an earbud, putting the other in his own ear. “i’m the one who’s got a lasso,” she said, ignoring dick’s snort and quip about how earbuds and a lasso are two completely different things, donna.

cass hadn’t expected to enjoy such a gentle, graceful form of athletics, but after a few lessons, it had become apparent that ballet could be far from gentle. it pushed her, made her practice and strengthen herself, and she’d fallen in love with the art quickly. however, the most frustrating part of the entire thing had little to do with actually dancing. the school bruce had helped pick out was prestigious, which meant a strict dress code, which meant her hair had to be in a bun. unfortunately, her hair never seemed to want to cooperate. after her latest attempt, falling into a mess of hair at her nape that had so many locks falling out, cass contemplated how mad the teacher would be if she showed up in a ponytail. at that moment, dick peeked into her room, having heard her frustrated noise, and asked if he could do anything to help. cass pointed to the mess of hair, not even remotely contained by the hair tie, and blew a strand out of her face. dick smiled with understanding, then came into her room, grabbing the comb on her bed and standing behind her in front of the mirror. he smoothed her hair with the comb, then pulled it this way and that, twisting and turning and wrapping until, two minutes later, a picture perfect bun sat atop her head. cass blinked with surprise. “first try,” she said, staring up at him, but he just shrugged and said, “it’s not that hard. you want me to drop you off?”

bruce could admit that he rather enjoyed undercover missions. it was an extended game with high stakes, a test of his own acting skills. with makeup changing his face, an expertly made wig, and a demeanor completely different from both brucie wayne and from batman, he swept through the crowd of greasy men, looking for a specific contact. then, he caught sight of someone specific indeed, though they weren’t his contact. eyebrows raised in a what are you doing here? gesture, he slid onto a barstool. from behind the bar, dick offered him a blinding smile, cleaning a glass. he tapped his wrist twice, a clear message. undercover, same as you. then, dick grabbed a couple bottles from underneath a shelf, flipping them in his hand and pouring with grandeur. bruce noticed he hadn’t put any alcohol in his little mixture, only making it seem as if he had. the flashy moves were entertaining, bruce could give him that. dick slid him the drink and bruce took a sip, eyebrows raising in brief surprise. “this is good. bartending?” dick put the bottles and the lemon away, unimpressed. “it’s not like it’s hard. just mixing a couple ingredients. no biggie.” bruce was fairly certain bartending was more difficult than that, but just then, his target came into view.

steph understood some of the bats’ frustration with dick, she really could. he hadn’t exactly been a welcome and opening batman, that’s for sure. regardless, as the few masks left in gotham had to work together, and she’d gotten to know the man pretty well. and she enjoyed his company as nightwing much more than batman. she dropped onto his balcony in his bludhaven apartment, announcing her presence in that loud-subtle way. dick was nestled in a couple blankets on the couch, going over a couple files, apparently just back from patrol if the small bandage on his neck and bags under his eyes were any indication. nevertheless, he brightened when he saw her and she nodded when he asked if she wanted to spend the night. he moved some of the papers to make room for her on the couch, but she flitted into his bathroom, going through the nail polish bottles she knew he had, and grabbing a shade of red that caught her eye. she tossed him the bottle and put her fingers in his lap, talking aimlessly about a movie she watched with cass. dick seemed to relax amidst her jabbering, and he shook the bottle a couple times before opening it and focusing on her right hand. but as he started, steph paused her rambling and focused on him instead, holding her hands gently and brushing paint onto her nails. he managed to cover her entire nail in three easy strokes, smooth and glossy, not a hint of paint on her skin. the nail was practically perfect. oh god she was jealous. “got a lot of practice with this, grayson?” she asked, and laughed at dick’s mock-offended of course not!

damian wasn’t one for photography, and he could grudgingly admit drake was far better at that particular skill than he was. however, his art class had promised to cover all types of media, and had upheld that pledge. the next two weeks were dedicated to photography, and their final project for the unit had to be a small collection of photographs. animal photography, of course, was damian’s chosen subject, and the knowledge that animal photography was one of the hardest skills to master only had damian wanting to do it more. days later, however, he could admit that it was trickier than expected. how had he never noticed how active his animals were? they never sat still, and every single picture came out blurry. grayson, upon coming across him in the manor grounds, noticed his futile attempts and asked if he could help. damian acquiesced the camera to grayson, who looked through the lens, finding the right angle and background, adjusting the focus settings slightly. then, he let out a sharp whistle and snapped his fingers. in nothing short of a miracle, damian’s pets pasued to look at him, only for a second, and the shutter clicked furiously. damian flipped through the photos, a good many of them clear and wonderful. damian snapped in irritation when dick ruffled his hair and said, “now you try!” it definitely wasn’t as easy as grayson made it look.

babs didn’t really know what she was expecting when she broke up with dick. there was hurt on both ends, and distance for a while, and she had no idea how much she’d miss him. but after a couple months of working together, of remembering that underneath the romantic tangles, their friendship was strong, she’d gotten to the point of dick randomly dropping by her apartment again. the downside was, dick kept randomly dropping by her apartment again. he stole her snacks and messed up her filing system and was so irritating that barbara almost forgot how relieved she was at having one of her best friends back. fortunately, it did come with benefits, because when he was bored, he did some of her chores for her. pausing in the doorway, she smiled at the sight of dick folding her clothes and putting them away. the gesture was platonic now, but no less appreciated. she pushed her wheelchair forward, and in greeting, dick told her how much he wanted to steal all her patterned socks. babs reminded him they wouldn’t fit, and laughed at his pout. dick grabbed one sock off the top of the laundry basket, then dug his hand into the pile of clothes randomly, coming up with the second sock in an instant. folding them together, he repeated the process for each pair. “that...that was fast. you got all of them?” babs asked in confusion. “yes? why, did you expect some to be missing?” was dick’s reply as he shook the wrinkles out of a sweater.

wally was never surprised. he knew dick better than probably most people in the world. he’d gone from frustrated and jealous of dick’s random talents, to admiring and appreciative, to just accepting them as a fact of life. dick’s phone never cracked if he accidentally he dropped it. dick never buttoned up shirts wrong, aligning each button with the right hole perfectly on the first try. dick could plug in usb ports the right way. dick always remembered which light switch was for which room, no matter whose house they were at. dick could pop a cd out of its case without ever smudging the disk, holding it by the rim perfectly. and dick always seemed to know when wally needed a day off, to just visit their old haunts, grab some ice cream, and spend the day talking away on a rooftop. that was just something his best friend could do. and wally would never tell dick, but underneath his fake irritation at it, but he loved him for it.

tag list: @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @astroherogirl @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg

3K notes · View notes