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smuttysabina · 7 months

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Gahyeon vs The Tentacles: A Tale of Interdimensional Terror and Sex

(Gahyeon x Tentacles, 2.7k words) CHECK THE TAGS

Tags: Filthy sloppy demonic sex, highly dubious anatomy, extremely questionable interdimensional reproductive cycles, tentacle sex, more tentacle cum then her body has room for, tentacle impregnation, egg laying, call your therapist- tell him he's a rich man, no orifice is left un-violated (okay well actually a lot are but...), illegal demonic summoning, birth, unspeakable degeneracy, consensual sex

Happy Halloween you degenerates

Gahyeon flips through the pages of the grimoire, bored beyond belief; who would have thought that finding a good demon for an orgy would be so hard! She scowls as she haphazardly tosses the book aside before snatching another one from the pile next to her roost in the old armchair. Halloween was fast approaching, and it was Dreamcatcher's hallowed tradition that every member would have to bring a demon along for their yearly spooky gangbang. Gahyeon's demon for last year had been a terrible disappointment, a Baphomet with meter-long cock; what the fuck was she supposed to do with a dick that huge? Okay, it had been pretty fun getting literally hosed down with demon-semen, but still! Flicking peevishly through the pages, she spots something that catches her eye, now this might work! Gahyeon would have to test it out first though, nothing was more embarrassing than trying to summon an interdimensional sex-partner only for the spell to fizzle in front of everybody...

Moving with confidence, Gahyeon quickly gathers the materials needed for the summoning; thankfully no virgin blood was required this time. Do you know how hard it is to find a virgin working at a Kpop company? Slopping her brush in the bucket of (ethically sourced) blood, Gahyeon swiftly sketches a pentagram on the library floor, then she bends over to draw the circle enclosing the symbol. Fell hieroglyphs and bizarre runes are carefully added around the perimeter ring, as Gahyeon busies herself with the fine details. She adds candles to every point of the pentagram, before as a final touch she dumps some leftover calamari in the center as a medium. Perfect. (What, its totally normal for an Idol to trespass the dark infinites to find a fuck-buddy; do you really think your favorites aren't doing it too?) Gahyeon calmly adjusts her outfit, as she prepares to start the incantation; first impressions are Important, you can't just greet your new friend butt-naked and bent over! (Well you can, it's just impolite) Unwords spill from Gahyeon's perky lips, scarring the air itself as she slowly makes several circuits around her summoning circle. An unhealthy light begins to grow around the discarded food-scraps, until they are burning with unnatural colors; then with a disgusting shlorp they disappear. Gahyeon blinks, did it work? Then a glowing pool of liquid appears, filling the circle until it is bubbling up the wards on the sides; a success!

Gahyeon squats in front of the unearthly puddle, impatient for any sign of the being she had supposedly just summoned. She starts as a long pink tube languidly rises out of the liquid, halting when level with her face and swaying gently. Gahyeon perks up, and cheerfully introduces herself, "Greetings almighty TZARNIGLOTHIFLORGUMALRQ'VSHYTUOPLONOAL, I was wondering if you wanted to go to an orgy next week with me?" The tendril bobs excitedly, and she beams, "Awesome! But um, let's get to know each other a bit better first okay?" The tentacle palpitates before ducking back into the pool, making nary a ripple. Gahyeon blandly stares at the pool, did she just get dumped...? Then a new tentacle erupts from the portal, much thicker and more purple than the last one, with a bulbous, fleshy tip. It quests slowly towards Gahyeon, pausing at the edge of the barrier; she rolls her eyes, and with a wave of her hand dispels it. The tentacle kisses her lips, and she opens her mouth to allow it inside of her.

The tentacle fills Gahyeon's mouth, probing towards the back of her throat before pausing, lulled by licking of her tongue. She slurps upon the squishy appendage, playfully sucking it off with surprising skill, her hands stroking its length. A sickly sweet fluid starts to appear in her mouth, and she redoubles her efforts, realizing that this must be some sort of precum. The tentacle wiggles and pulsates inside of her mouth, expanding until her tongue is pushed entirely down, leaving her throat clear. Warm, slick liquid spurts into Gahyeon's mouth, which she handily gulps down, but it is soon followed by a flood of gummy balls that slide easily down her well-lubricated throat. She gags, arms flailing as she tries to swallow the seemingly endless stream of boba-like spheres pouring into her stomach. Eventually the deluge ceases, and the tentacle deflates and withdraws from Gahyeon, leaving her coughing and clutching at her belly. She rubs herself while glaring at the now spent purple appendage, why does her tummy feel so strange, just what sort of demonic semen is inside of her? One thing for sure, Gahyeon feels a bizarre need for anal sex, like, deep, hard plowing. With a mischievous smile she lifts the hem of her dress up and pulls down her panties, "Well, surely you've got more to show me..."

Smooth, pink tentacles erupt out of the eldritch pool, slithering around Gahyeon's body and lifting her into the air. More tentacles hold her legs open while others snake underneath her clothes and slither sensuously around her breasts. She simpers at the overwhelming sensations assaulting her skin, so focused is she on her own pleasure that she barely notices the growing pressure against her anus. Gahyeon gasps as she feels something hot and slimy enter her ass, slowly but steadily pushing deeper inside of her; expanding to fit the contours of her innards. The tentacles coiling around her body begin to secrete the same fluid that had presaged the purple tentacles orgasm, coating Gahyeon in a thin layer of slime. She moans, writhing in the tentacles grasps, her nerves made extraordinarily sensitive by the tentacles' fluid; demanding that her demonic lover continue rubbing her. She climaxes messily when the tendril inside of her quests even deeper, delving into her small intestine as it slowly fills up her belly with its fleshy length. Gahyeon's eyes roll back as she cums repeatedly from the novel sensation of having her guts fucked; her tummy bulging obscenely. Then the tentacle within slowly begins to wind its way out of her, leaving behind a warm, slippery trail of fluid that makes her tremble with a strange excitement. Gahyeon's eyes widen as she feels something start to flow down her guts, what the fuck...?

A smooth, pliable ovoid plops wetly out of Gahyeon's ass, making her shudder with sickening delight. She groans, "What the fuck is that?" before any further questions are stopped by a veritable flood of eggs spewing out of her anus. Gahyeon's arms spasm frantically as her asshole sputters noisily, as if the world's longest string of anal beads was getting yanked out of her ass. She cums so hard from her sensitive ass getting violated that she blacks out, only regaining consciousness some time afterwards; her ass gaping in the cool air. Breathing heavily, Gahyeon manages to gasp out, "Did- did you just impregnate my fucking guts? Ugh... Fuck that felt so good though!" A salacious gleam fills her eyes, her mind hazy with lust, she reaches down to spread her other hole, "You dummy, don't you know you're supposed to knock up a human using this hole? Fill me up again! I want to birth your spawn using my cunt this time," Gahyeon haughtily demands. A pink tendril noses at her entrance, but she bats it away irritably, "No! Use a purple one I said!" She licks her lips when she sees another bulbous, purple tentacle emerge from the pool, wiggling her hips with excitement as it approaches.

Gahyeon moans as the tentacle slides inside of her sopping pussy, squirming around as it examines her hole until it pokes at her cervix. Its flesh tip kisses the entrance to her womb, before worrying at it as the tendril seeks to enter her most sacred place. Gahyeon slows her breathing, drawing upon her lessons with Jihyo to relax her cervix, allowing the tentacle to slither inside of her uterus. She spasms a little as the fleshy tube explores her womb, now this was certainly a new sensation for her! Gahyeon grunts as she feels a surge of warm fluid and eggs spewing inside of her, thank goodness her cavity was designed to be stretched out... The purple tendril slips out of her pussy, before a familiar pink tentacle takes its place, already slopping lubricating fluids all over her crotch. Gahyeons pouts in annoyance, "This is the most boring tentacle rape I've ever been to. Like, I don't mind being forced to birth you eggs and shit, but can you at least fucking violate me while I do? I want at least, one tentacle fucking all of my holes at all times; and I had better be getting pumped full of so much cum I look pregnant! What's the point of screwing tentacles if I'm not getting ruined? Oh- and if you could fuck my tits too that would be great." The tentacle poised to insert itself pauses for a moment, as Gahyeon blandly watches the shimmering pool for an answer. Several dozen more pink tentacles menacingly rise out of the water, and she claps her hands in delight; now this is more like it!

Gahyeon gurgles happily around the fleshy tube shoved down her throat, sucking upon it with all her might. Two more pink tentacles make an absolute mess of her cunt, slopping fluids all over the floor, while another is busy filling her ass with cum. Several small tendrils also invade Gahyeon's more exotic orifices, wriggling inside of her nipples and urethra before filling those with creamy liquid as well. Under such an assault, its no wonder that Gahyeon is orgasming almost continuously, her abused holes spasming around the tentacles fucking her brains out. The tentacle occupying her esophagus pulsates, and she feels a seemingly endless surge of hot liquid spew into her stomach until it sloshes with every movement she makes. Finally spent, the tentacle unclogs Gahyeon's throat only after her face has turned rosy from lack of oxygen. Panting, she still manages to tongue it gratefully as it withdraws, sucking on it until it emerges from between her lips with a sensual pop. Then the tendril squirming between her huge breasts explodes all over her chest, painting her chain and neck with a slick of filthy fluid.

Now thoroughly in heat, Gahyeon rubs the resulting aphrodisiacal mess into her breasts, causing her nipples to swell up even as they are toyed with by smaller tentacles. An utterly perverse idea crosses her mind, and at her urging, two fresh purple ovipositor tentacles nose at her teats. Her nipples are forced wider as the ribbed tendrils slowly press inside, before starting to pulsate with a now familiar rhythm. Gahyeon groans with ecstasy as her breasts are impregnated, as eggs slop into her unused mammaries until they are heaving with slick spheroids. She gropes herself forcefully, relishing in the feeling of her already large breasts now swollen to capacity with weighty eggs. But it's still not enough for the lustful slut, who is now indulging in her wildest fantasies. Even as the pink tendrils return to lubricating the insides of her tits, she hauls another larger one towards her mouth, "Don't stop until you come out the other side..." Gahyeon accepts the tentacle into her mouth, allowing its meaty length to curl down her throat and towards her stomach. In bends slightly, allowing air to flow into her lungs, while plumbing ever deeper. Now it was literally in her stomach, already roiling with lubricating fluids, before pushing onwards...

Gahyeon squirms as the tentacle winds its way down through her innards, cumming as she wordlessly demands her for her cunt to be stimulated. Then the tentacle was through the tight confines of her organs, and was freely wriggling its way out of her already abused guts. She whines as she feels her asshole birth the thickening coil, her eyes glazing over as it raises back up to her face, as if showing off. Gahyeon convulses, she was being impaled, she had been reduce to filthy fucking meat-tube! Only after enduring what seems like an endless orgasm, does the pink tentacle deign to withdraw, leaving her feeling worn and violated; not that she was slowing down. The tendrils fucking her breasts had not been idle while Gahyeon had been filled all-the-way-through, and her tits were now burning with a grotesque heat. She looks down in shock, that was fast, her hands squeezing her boobs as they start to leak and pulse. Gahyeon squeals as the first oviod forces its way out of her gaping nipple, rolling down her shaking stomach before falling to the floor. A tide of eggs follows, spewing out of both of her breasts as she watches with amazement the sight of her tits giving birth. She croons as she gently massages her blown-out breasts, fuck she needs more and more! With daemonic energy she demands that the ravaging of her holes recommence, Gahyeon doesn't need to rest, she needs to get destroyed!

After nearly another hour of rapacious hole-fucking, Gahyeon writhes from overstimulation, as she feels a familiar heat begin to grow in her belly. She looks down in surprise as several more tentacles snake inside of her, filling her holes to capacity and more; gushes of fluid pouring out of her with every thrust. Her moans grow higher in pitch as the supreme moment approaches, her uterus pressing downwards against the knot of tendrils occupying her cunt. Gahyeon gasps as her cervix slowly begins to open, the pressure within forcing its lips to part, "Oh my god its coming out! Oh fuck I'm giving birth! It hurts so good!" Gahyeon wails as the first egg squeezes its way out, the tentacles swiftly pulling out of her pussy to give her space. Then the next one emerges, followed by several dozen more; every egg prompting her to moan and squirt, the tentacles in her guts continuing to pleasure her innards. Her hands frantically stroke the tendrils in her hands, milking them one-by-one into her mouth in a frenzy of degenerate lust as her mind goes blank...

When Gahyeon had finished birthing the slimy ovoids, the tentacles gently lower her to the ground, leaving her on her knees in a puddle of lubricating fluid. Her blown-out holes sputter weakly, and she clutches at her belly that was so swollen with cum it looks as if she was pregnant. Then Gahyeon notices that she is alone once more in the room, the portal of glistening liquid fast receding. She pouts, is it over already? A singular purple tentacle emerges from the pool, fluted and ribbed; bobbing gently in exhaustion. With a mischievous smirk, Gahyeon grasps the flesh tube and takes it in her mouth, her wily tongue slithering inside of the tendril's hole. Holding it steady, she teases and plays with the pseudo-cock until it is leaking into her mouth; then she starts to suck and it quivers. Gahyeon gracefully swallows egg after egg, her throat so well lubricated that even though they are larger, the gummy balls slide down her gullet with ease. When it is finished filling her with its spawn, she removes it from her mouth, before giving its bruised tip and sloppy kiss. "So, I'll be seeing you in a week, right? I'll incubate the babies you plopped into my tummy until then, but next time... Next time you had better impregnate all of my holes, oh and violate me even harder; the fact that I'm even conscious right now is really not great." The tentacle pulsates in her grasp, and Gahyeon finally allows it to escape back into the hellish dimension from which it came; the portal closing behind it with a wet shlorp.

Gahyeon staggers towards the exit of the library, her leaking holes leaving behind a slippery trail of fluids. She was looking forward to having her innards invaded again, the other girls would be so jealous of her! She doesn't think any of them had given birth while getting fucked before either, so she was really going to be able to show off! Gahyeon tenderly strokes at her protruding belly, feeling the eggs squirming inside of her; who knew that serving as the breeding-pouch for an interdimensional demon would be so fucking arousing?

Well, maybe Gahyeon, but she did read a little too much hentai for her own good...

#kpop smut #dreamcatcher smut #gahyeon smut #tentacles #smut

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sunflowersandsapphires · 3 months

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A Hint of Lovely Oblivion

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: After a week of sleeping terribly, Frank makes an effort to help you get the rest you deserve.

warnings: Swearing, fluff, caring Frank, this is not medical advice

a/n: I wrote this for my lovely bestie @madschiavelique who wanted some Frankie comfort. As someone who deals with insomnia pretty regularly, this was very cathartic! I hope you all enjoy. A huge thank you to my other bestie @gracethyomen for beta-ing and helping me plan this fic!

w/c: 4.6k

Inhaling deeply, the frigid air of the room made your nose twitch. Sliding as deep as you could into the blanket pile while maintaining your seated position, you bit your lip, shifting the pad of paper on your lap and craning your neck once again. While your duvet provided an excellent shield to lock in heat, your shoulders inevitably poked out whenever you weren’t fully horizontal, leaving your body to sit in a temperature regulation purgatory; your consciousness rumbled uneasily as the hair on the back of your neck refused to flatten, your brain torn between making you shiver or letting you sweat. The position was far from comfortable—but being awake all night made comfort an unattainable goal for you anyways.

It had been days since you’d slept through the night. You were no stranger to insomnia, you’d been cursed with it your entire life, but lately it had dug its malicious claws into your chest with the violence of a starving feral animal. Your bed, which used to be a haven of rest and relaxation, was now a space that you avoided at all costs—the wonderfully soft pillows and warm blankets mocking you as they sat untouched well into the night, fatigue never overtaking you when you needed it to. For the first few nights of your ongoing battle with sleeplessness, you’d crawl under the covers anyway, praying to any deity listening that the weight and heat of the fabric would force your eyelids to close—but it never did.

Sighing as your pencil tip snapped, you closed your eyes, letting your breath rest in your lungs for a moment before exhaling again; apparently your frustration with your own hormone production created a physical pressure on the lead of your pencil. Picking up a fresh one from your nightstand, you did your best to clean up the smear of graphite from the impact of the broken point.

Turning your attention back to the subject of your sketch, you chewed your lip to stifle a smile. Despite the thick curtains your partner had insisted on, a sliver of moonlight illuminated the massive man slumbering beside you, quietly snoring away—completely oblivious to the inspiration he'd given you. The feather-light moon beams shone through his tousled hair, creeping down over his face, which was adorably mashed against his singular pillow. Considering that he'd turned up a handful of hours ago drenched in other people's blood, it was downright ironic to be calling him “adorable” as he slept—but you couldn't shake the giddy feeling that always bubbled up when you saw his face so lax with sleep. His expression was so uncharacteristically peaceful, it never failed to make you happy.

Sure, not sleeping sucked. You'd be plagued with jaw-cracking yawns and mild memory loss in the morning, just like yesterday and the day before that. Having the opportunity to watch Frank sleep soundly, didn't make up for the fact that you'd accidentally put orange juice in your coffee yesterday, but it made the build up of irritation much easier to bear. Which is why you'd decided to memorialize it in your sketchbook.

Studying the map of shadows on Frank's handsome face, you scratched the pencil over the thick paper, the rasping sound soothing the constant buzzing in your brain. Scrunching your nose as you tried to smooth out the sketch in front of you, you nearly jumped out of your skin when he spoke.

“Why're you up, darlin'?” His voice was rough with exhaustion. Noticing your wide eyes and ragged inhale, a large hand slid up to rest on your thigh. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya.”

”It's alright, Frankie. I wasn't paying attention.“ You tried to laugh, but the sound died in your throat.

His hand stroked over your leg as he waited for you to answer his question. Instead, your eyes remained trained on the book across your lap, pencil moving fluidly through the silence. Tracing a thumb over your warm skin, Frank frowned. “Ya didn't answer my question, sweetheart.”

“Hmm?” Your tone was innocent, but the way your eyes remained glued to your work was enough to tell him you had definitely heard the question.

Squeezing your thigh with a yawn, Frank tried not to groan as he dragged himself up to sit next to you. His movement finally captured your attention, your brow furrowing as you set your pencil aside. “What are you doing?”

Giving what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug, Frank slid an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple. ”Sittin' with my girl. That a crime now?“

Smiling despite the guilt flaring in your chest, you shoved at his solid torso feebly. ”Go back to sleep, Frankie. I'm sorry I woke you. I can—“ Shuffling in your seat, you tilted towards the edge of the mattress, fully intending to relocate to a different room so that Frank could go back to bed. Foiling your plan, Frank's arms held fast against your teetering, pulling you flush against his chest.

”Don't you dare.“ He growled, chin resting atop your crown.

”Frank! I didn't even finish my thought,“ You wriggled against his hold, your brain torn between reacting with endearment or annoyance over being imprisoned by his strength. “Let me go, you...you...butthead.” Whining at your own lackluster insult, you buried your face in Frank's neck as he chuckled.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Ain't gotta go for my throat like that.” Frank murmured smugly. You could envision his shit-eating smirk despite it being out of your line of sight.

”Shut up,“ You muttered, a tiny smile gracing your lips against your will. Your body trembled as Frank shook with rumbling laughter. Drawing you into his arms, Frank set your legs over his lap, positioning you towards the windows. The gusting heat from the vent closest to your bed ruffled the fabric covering the panes, the pale glowing rays of moonlight fluttering over your knees as the drapes shifted. It created a mesmerizing dance of light and dark, captivating you.

”Ya gonna tell me how long you've been sittin' here starin' at me or did ya wanna keep pretendin' you were asleep?” In defense of your ruthlessly persistent boyfriend, it has been said that the third time’s the charm. His tone was as delicate as his gruff voice allowed, the muscles of his jaw and throat rippling against your scalp as he spoke.

Eyes falling closed, you focused on the warmth of Frank’s body surrounding you as you willed the tears pricking your eyes to back down. Another unfortunate side effect of sleep deprivation—your emotions started to go haywire over the littlest things.

It wasn’t that you thought Frank would be angry. Well, it wasn’t the biggest anxiety on your mind, at least. It was more the fear of burdening him with your own issues at all hours when you knew a good night’s sleep was practically a miracle for him. The first night at home after a few weeks away always seemed to make it come easier, but other than that Frank rarely rested. The mere thought of forcing him to sit up with you, especially on the one night this week he’d get a full 8 hours, grabbed your guilty conscience by the throat.

Giving a halfhearted shrug, you caved. “Dunno. Slept for a few hours when we went to bed. Then I got up and...” Trailing off, you gestured to the bed in front of you, which was clearly not being used for sleep.

Frank withdrew from the embrace and your pounding heart sank. You set your jaw, waiting for the frustrated scolding…but it never came. Instead, one calloused finger landed underneath your chin, tilting it upwards as he spoke. “You been awake that long?” His eyes shone with concern, boring ferociously into yours.

Nodding miserably, you swallowed the overwhelming shame crawling up your esophagus before speaking. “I’m sorry, Frank. I tried to sleep, but I just couldn’t—“

Cutting you off with a tender kiss, Frank’s hand moved to cup your cheek. “Nothin’ to be sorry about, honey. Ya shoulda woken me up.”

Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you bit your lip, ”You deserve to sleep uninterrupted. I didn't want to be the one to take that away from you.“

Frank chewed the inside of his cheek as he was overrun with waves of adoration and sympathy for you. How he'd managed to end up with such a considerate partner, he'd never know. Especially when he didn't consistently return the gesture.

He'd come home yesterday and practically collapsed into your arms—ignoring how unsteady your balance seemed when you dragged him into the apartment, blaming it on his own weight. You'd patched him up sweetly, as you always did, and Frank hadn't thought twice about the fact that you'd had to leave the room three times to get the gauze, assuming your memory had just been shaken by his battered appearance.

Was he truly so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he hadn't noticed the sunken crescents underneath your eyes? They were so prominent now, stark sepia bruises on your otherwise even skin. It must have been days since you slept properly. Beside himself with worry, his thumb traced the indent under your left eye. ”Shit sweetheart...“

”I'm—“ You started to apologize, but it stuck in your throat when Frank shook his head.

”Hey, none of that. Don't wanna hear it, ok?” You nodded in response to his gentle command, sitting there quietly as he schemed. “Are you tired at all?”

The pitiful shake of your head seemed to make up his mind.

Unwinding from you, he raised his arms above his head in a stretch, moaning as his back popped with the movement. Your face scrunched in disapproval, making him grimace sheepishly. “Sorry, honey. Guess I was stiff from drivin' all day.” Without waiting for your response, he slid out of bed. Your brow furrowed as he strode over to the dresser, pulling a shirt over his rumpled hair.

“Get dressed, darlin'. I have an idea.” He called to you over his shoulder as he rummaged for a clean pair of pants. Sighing, you abandoned the bubble of heat surrounding you in bed and headed for the closet.

Despite your grumbles and evident confusion, the two of you were dressed and on the road before the sun even peeked over the horizon. With one hand settled in yours, Frank kept his gaze trained on the road ahead, trying not to laugh at your exasperated questioning and adorable pout. Dragging you out of the house at this hour might not have been his brightest idea—since he normally tried to remain on your good side—but hey, he’d gotten this far without you chewing his head off.

Frank could hardly be considered a morning person, but you were practically nocturnal. Leaving the house before dawn was probably high up on your list of personal hells, but staying in bed when you couldn’t sleep wasn’t a good idea. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Curtis’s agitated tone.

“For the last time, Frank: staying in bed will make it worse.”

Way back in the day, during his first trip home after going overseas, he’d bugged Curtis relentlessly about his own sleep issues. Maria was tired enough raising a wandering toddler and an imaginative kindergartener, she didn’t need to worry about a restless marine to boot. He’d tried every suggestion under the sun, but sleep still evaded him. Tour after tour, night after night, he’d lay beside his wife in their bed and stare at the ceiling until his alarm went off. After his family died, well…it didn’t exactly get easier to rest.

Despite scouring the internet, a few libraries, and the expanse of Curt’s brain for any possible cures, his sleeplessness persisted. It was a torture he endured for years, and an anguish he wouldn’t wish on anyone but his worst enemies.

Finding out that you also dealt with insomnia was a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, not having to explain his fickle moods and constant absence from the bedroom was a welcomed relief. On the other, seeing the symptoms of sleep deprivation in someone he cared about was an agony worse than an infected bullet wound.

He knew what you were going through all too well, which meant he was determined to try and help. Getting you out of the house was just the first step of his admittedly too-detailed plan.

His lips twitched with a smile as he spotted the building. Turning into the ragged asphalt lot behind the restaurant, he turned his attention to you.

“We’re here, darlin’.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you remained unimpressed. “A diner?”

Letting out a bark of laughter at your obvious disdain for the activity, Frank pointed a finger at you in warning. “Hey, don’t knock it til ya try it, sweetheart.” His exaggerated stern expression broke through your apprehension, your lips turning upwards into a fond smile.

“There’s my pretty girl.” Frank pressed a kiss to your temple, heart swelling as you leaned into him. “If ya wanna go home, just say the word.”

Biting your lip, you glanced out the window at the electric blue awning extending from the glass doors. The yellow lamp lights lining the sidewalk reflected in your wide eyes as you stared. “No, we can go. I, just…can I ask you a question first?”

“Course, honey. Anythin’.”

“Why here?” Your question was soft, but genuine; your curiosity was outweighing the contempt you’d previously shown for his choice of destination.

Running a hand through his hair, he gave a one-armed shrug. “Fuck, well... ya know I’m no stranger to the whole…not sleepin’ thing. And, uh, back in the early days, when it was real bad for me, I’d come here. We– er– Maria and I, we took the kids here a couple of times. Dunno, wanted to remember the good times, I guess, and it became a sort of tradition. Thought it might help you too.”

With a stuttering inhale, you reached for his hand, stroking a finger over his knuckles as you looked up at him shyly. “Thank you for sharing it with me. I didn’t mean to be rude about it, I’m sorry.”

Squeezing your fingers, he could feel heat creeping up his face. “It’s nothin’ sweetheart. Ain’t gotta worry about that.”

Glancing back out the window for a moment, Frank could see the gears turning in your head as you turned back to him with a tiny grin.

“Lead the way?” You asked tentatively.

“For you, sweet girl? Always.” He pressed a kiss to your hand, his stubble scratching at the skin of your fingers.

Frank ushered the two of you inside and into a booth in the back of the diner. The restaurant was lacking in customers, as could be expected given the early hour. While the inky black sky was broken up with dim streetlights outside of the building, the inside was flooded with fluorescent lights--so bright that you had to shield your eyes with a limp hand for a few minutes.

Once your vision adjusted, you had to admit that the energy in the diner was quite nice. The chipped linoleum tiles that lined the floor were a gorgeous cobalt blue. Along the ceiling, large chunks of the roof had been replaced with thick panes of glass, allowing you to watch the clouds float by, the darkness of the night contrasting beautifully with the intense lighting. You and Frank were seated on a worn vinyl booth, the strips of fabric alternating between silver and black. Similar booths wrapped around the space, almost twinkling as you looked at them.

“So,” Frank pushed a mug towards you. “Whaddya think?”

“It's nice.” You murmured, pulling the warm cup closer to yourself. Somehow you'd missed him ordering himself coffee and you a tea in your distracted state.

Frank cocked his head at you, lips turned up in a smug smirk. ”’S that so?“

Smiling into your mug as you took a sip, you retorted. ”Shut up.“

The drink was warm and, thankfully, unsweetened. It's crisp flavor relaxed your shoulders as you sipped, settling your anxious stomach.

“Hope mint is a’right.” Frank spoke quietly, a blush creeping up his face as he studied his own drink.

“You remembered.” You breathed out, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it tightly as your eyes prickled with emotion.

“Course I did.” Frank huffed, draining the rest of his black coffee. You shuddered in distaste and he chuckled, rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand. “You hungry at all?”

Shrugging noncommittally, you worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Frank sighed, but didn't push further on the subject, which you were very grateful for. You'd never explicitly spoken to him about the effect your insomnia had on your eating habits, but--being the observant partner he was--he'd clearly picked up on it anyways. Once your day started with little to no sleep, it was like all of your bodily functions forgot how to...function. Hunger and thirst cues were practically impossible to read, your body and brain battling each other ferociously at every turn. Which, of course, just exhausted you further.

Scrubbing at one eye with the heel of your free hand, you grit your teeth to keep from groaning. Dwelling on how miserable you were going to feel today wouldn't solve anything, it would just worsen your mood.

”Head botherin' ya?“ Frank asked, brow folding in concern as he watched you knead at your forehead.

”No more than usual.“ You cracked a small smile, hoping that didn't sound as sad as you thought it did. “Just...frustrated with myself.”

“I feel ya, sweetheart. Not sleepin' ain't any fun. But I have some ideas, so don't you worry your pretty little head about it, ok?” Frank tangled his fingers with yours, his gaze earnest.

“You get ideas?” You scoffed, grinning when Frank rolled his eyes in return.

“Ya know what? Just for that, I ain't gonna tell ya about 'em.”

“Nooo,” You whined, taking Frank's massive hand in both of yours and pouting at him. ”I was just kidding. Please tell me.“

”Hmm, I dunno. First you insulted the diner, then my intelligence. Seems like you don't want my help, sweetheart.“ Frank withdrew from your grasp, pretending to sulk into his coffee.

Giggling at Frank’s pout, you reassured him. ”No, I do! I do!“

With a sad little shrug, Frank glanced forlornly out the window.

“Please Frankie,” Pleading with your gaze, you tried to keep a straight face. “You're my only hope.”

Dropping his startlingly believable moping act, Frank cackled. “Ya think you're real clever, don't ya?”

Smirking into your tea, you gulped down the last remnants with a shrug. ”Maybe.“

After your countless apologies for insulting his intellect, Frank finally explained why he'd encouraged–forced–you to leave the house before sunrise. Apparently he'd heard that staying in bed while awake could perpetuate the cycle of sleep deprivation. And, though you were loath to admit it, it seemed to help.

The little excursion definitely lifted your spirits, if nothing else. You were able to admire the sunrise and mess around with Frank without your anxiety skyrocketing because of the city crowds. It was nice, and you told him such–even at the risk of over-inflating his ego.

His next activity, however, was not as pleasant.

“Are you going to have me carry you around the apartment next?” You groused, hefting the bedframe up so that you could adjust your rapidly loosening grip on the cold metal. This much physical labor on an empty stomach and no sleep was not what you’d had in mind for a relaxing day with Frank. He, however, was insistent on moving the furniture in your room immediately upon your return home.

“You offerin'?” Frank smirked at you, pretending to set the bed frame down. His eyes glinted with a humor you didn’t share over the current situation.

“Fuck no.” You muttered, glaring at him until he lifted the majority of the weight once more. Frank laughed deeply.

“Set it right over here, darlin’. We gotta move your dresser and then we’re all done.”

“You know, if you hated the layout of my room so much, you could’ve told me months ago.” Instead of waiting until I was already reaching my limit. You thought to yourself, not vocalizing that particular vulnerability.

“And have you put me out on my ass for bein’ so forward? I’d never, sweetheart.” Frank chuckled, adjusting your bed as you collapsed against the mattress with a huff. “I’m teasin’, honey. It’s an old trick Curt told me about. All the rearrangin’ is supposed to help your brain remember how to sleep, or some shit.”

Rubbing at your forehead as the ache that had been plaguing you all day made a sudden resurgence, your limbs instinctively curled into fetal position as a small whimper escaped your lips.

“It’s helping it remember to bother me is what it’s doing.” You grumbled, gritting your teeth as the pain ebbed and flowed. You knew the more you thought about it, the more it would torture you–but the stabbing sensation was all that your fatigued brain could focus on right now.

Frank snorted, sitting beside you gingerly and caressing your hunched back with an open palm. “‘M sorry, sweet girl. Let me get ya some meds and you can lie here while I finish movin’ shit around.”

Your body felt like it was aimlessly floating, untethered to the Earth and hurrying to escape the pain so viciously attacking it at the moment. You were so tired. Every blink was a reminder of the heaven that had been ripped from your delicate grasp hours ago because your body couldn’t even function in the way it was designed to. Brow scrunching, you burrowed under the covers with a sigh.

“Ya better not be sleepin’ on me, honey.” Frank murmured as he stepped back into the room.

“Course not,” You mumbled. “Would never…”

“I know you’re tired, darlin’, but ya gotta stay awake until it’s dark. Naps will just make ya feel worse, trust me.” He trailed a finger down your arm, taking your hand and placing some painkillers into it. Waiting patiently until you begrudgingly dragged yourself into a seated position, Frank smiled softly at you as you popped the pills into your mouth. Holding the glass of water out to you, the Marine squeezed your leg as you drank, tucking his chin over your head as you collapsed wearily into his side.

“The big bad Punisher takes naps? Hard to picture, Frankie.” You teased, your voice morphing into a satisfied hum as he threaded his fingers into your hair.

Frank scoffed, kissing your crown before returning the jest. “Maybe I should take the vest off before closin’ my eyes next time.”

You giggled, burying your face into his neck. His warm flesh felt wonderful on your pounding head, soothing the pain behind your eyes with each measured breath. “Do you cuddle your guns like teddy bears?” The question was overtly ridiculous, but Frank loved you enough to entertain it anyway.

“Course. What else would I do with ‘em?” He asked coyly.

Looking up at him, the corners of your lips lifted as he pressed a line of gentle kisses down your nose until he reached your lips.

“If I turn on the TV, are ya gonna pass out on top of me?” He murmured, his stubble scratching your face as he spoke.

“Wouldn't dream of it, love.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his sturdy jawline before he stood up to grab the remote.

If someone would’ve told you a year ago that your next boyfriend could make a bad insomnia week feel tolerable, you never would’ve believed them. But here you were—lying on your stomach completely topless as Frank massaged a lightly scented lotion into your back—feeling pretty comfortable with the whole arrangement.

After you’d failed to stay awake during the movie you’d picked out, Frank had carted you around town on various errands: picking up groceries, going to the bookstore, and even taking a quick walk around the park to feed the ducks, which he knew you loved. Your body still ached, and your mood still waned, but overall, it was a good day. And all the credit belonged to your incredible partner.

Groaning appreciatively, it felt like you were melting into the mattress as Frank tenderly stretched your taught muscles, unraveling the knots of stress that had been building up all week.

Chuckling, Frank pressed a tiny kiss to your bare shoulder. “Glad it feels good, sweetheart.”

“No, it’s awful,” You lied. “You clearly need more practice..”

Frank snorted, “Noted. How’re ya feelin’?”

“Tired.” You sighed, rolling over as Frank handed you one of his tees to sleep in.

“I bet. We’re on the last leg, sweetheart, almost there.” Frank’s large hands eagerly wrapped around you as you nestled into his side. Cupping your face with one palm, the fingers of his other hand threaded into your hair, detangling it carefully and brushing it off of your face.

Biting your lip in frustration, and to keep from sighing again, you nodded. Attempting an understanding smile, you poked him in the chest. “I know. Thanks for putting up with my cranky self today.”

“Sweetheart, you can be snappy with me as much as ya want if it means you’ll sleep through the night.” Frank smirked, squishing your cheek as your eyes suddenly blurred with tears.

“I love you.” You whispered, going limp in his hold as he settled against the pillows.

“I love you too, darlin’. So much.” Resting your foreheads together, he kissed you delicately and your lashes fluttered.

“Frankie?” You looked up at him with your practiced ‘doe eyes’ expression that he could never resist.

“Yah?” He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Can you read to me?” Batting your lashes, you watched with satisfaction as Frank’s expression softened, your eyes taking in the exact moment he caved to your whims.

Straightening his posture stoically, he reached over to grab your new book from the nightstand with an exasperated huff. “Oh, I see. This was all a scheme of yours to get me to read to ya? ‘S that it?”

“No…” You giggled, nuzzling into him as he cracked the novel open.

“Sure, sure. You’ll be hearin’ from my lawyer, sweetheart. Think ya owe me compensation.” He winked at you, eyes lingering on your face.

“Honey, before ya drift off, jus’...” Sighing, he stroked a thumb over your cheek. “Just know, if all this doesn’t work, cause it ain’t a cure all, ya know–”

Laying your hand over his, you gave him an encouraging look. He inhaled sharply, thinking about how he wanted to phrase the sentiment.

“I want you to sleep, darlin’, ya know I do. But if it doesn’t happen tonight, we can always try again, ok?”

Startled by the affection in his tone and his beautiful promise, your face went slack as you nodded. Eyes flitting over your gaze, he nodded curtly once he decided you understood. Returning his attention to the book in his hands, he cleared his throat before beginning to read. His rumbling velvet tone soothed you, your eyes falling closed almost immediately. Here, in the safety of Frank’s arms, surrounded by his beautiful voice and reassured by his adorable promise, you finally felt at peace. Though you knew sleep might continue to evade you, the anxiety you’d felt about your insomnia didn’t feel quite as all-consuming tonight. Whatever happened, Frank would be there. And, for now, that was enough.

Thanks for reading!!

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jo-harrington · 3 months

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Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 2: Out of Character

Previous Chapter: Alternate Universe

Summary: Things are starting to get weird in Hawkins. Weird for Eddie, especially. (AKA Eddie Munson and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week)

Word Count: 9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Angst, mention of virginity, Smut (male masturbation), sexual fantasies, brief Breeding Kink mention (I SWEAR IT WILL MAKE SENSE bear with me), Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Lovesick Eddie, jealousy, satire, a Monkey’s Paw type situation, Cliffhanger, Meta Fiction, Eddie acts a little OOC—it’s in the title

Note: Hey everyone, we're back with hopefully some more regularly posted chapters now that my baby SMVerse is complete. Very sorry for how long this chapter is, the next one is admittedly planned to be shorter. There was just a lot of dough to knead here. Thank you to @dr-aculaaa @powderblueblood and @rosewaterandivy for their contribution to some details of the chapter. IYKYK. And they know. Especially how much it means to me.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

It goes without saying that your newfound independence had led to the most fun you’d ever had.

You weren’t afraid to be by yourself; on the contrary, it was almost like you were by yourself for the first time in your life.

That was the thing about living in a small town, everyone knew everyone else and your friends and neighbors always popped in unannounced, usually to a lot of fanfare and excitement.

There was never a dull moment with your friends.

But every aspect of your life in Port Geneva hinged around them, and now you could really focus on you. Realize that you were worth more than what you did to enrich someone else's life. Now you could enrich your own.

You listened to music you'd never heard before. What music had you even listened to before?

You ate foods you'd never eaten before. If you really thought about it, what had you ever eaten but short stacks with strawberries and sandwiches from the deli and cafeteria pizza?

You saw the world; sketched buildings and landscapes that were so different from the ones you were used to. Had you ever seen a house that didn't look like the ones in your cookie-cutter suburb? Or seen grass that wasn't perfectly manicured?

Who knew that wildflowers existed outside of storybooks?

Sometimes you stayed for a while; got a little room at a motel in a town that reminded you a lot of home and nothing like home at all. Too homesick to keep jumping around but not homesick enough to go back. You'd get a job for a few weeks--always lucking out on an opening for a waitressing or babysitting gig or something--pad your pockets, fall in love with the town and sometimes with the people there.

Then the need to leave simmered in your bones once again and you were forced back onto the road.

There was one town you were almost loath to leave. A midwest town and a goofy guy named Ed who made you laugh and called you sweetheart and kissed you shyly; he really understood you, understood the need to march to the beat of your own drum, because his big dream was to get out of his hometown too and make a name of himself.

Which is why he wasn't mad when it was time for you to go.

You'd always remember Stuckeyville.

But it was no matter; the world was yours for the taking. You'd keep going, on and on to the next destination, until you couldn't anymore.

Then one day, a year-or-so into your trip, it happened.

You'd been driving, thinking of the postcards that were burning a hole in your backpack to be sent back home. It was late, and you were tired and ready to make it to your next destination.

That's when you crashed.

December 1985

"Ed..."

"Hmmm?"

"I've gotta get up."

"Five more minutes."

"You're lying on my arm." He could feel the slight movement of something beneath him. "God, you and your big fat head, my hand is numb!"

Eddie groaned as you pushed at him and before long, your finger--cold and wet with spit--slid into his ear, rendering him fully awake and squirming to get away from you.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed as he hopped off his bed and tried to rid himself of the phantom feeling of your invasion. "Gah, ugh, gross!"

"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do," you grinned and got up from the bed to stretch. You put your hands on your hips and glared at him playfully. "Especially when she's gonna be late. You should know how Bev is better than anybody."

Violation quickly forgotten, Eddie watched you run back and forth around his room; a satisfied feeling settled in his chest as you picked bits of clothing up to layer back on, fixed your hair, swept the fingers over the corners of your eyes to wipe the sleep from them as you got ready for your shift at the Hideout.

It was a feeling that he was quickly becoming addicted to.

How many weeks had you been dating now?

Not enough to satisfy his rapidly increasing dependence on you.

Dating.

You even called him your boyfriend. God it still seemed like such a dream to him. One he never wanted to wake up from. But it was real. You had dates and you took naps together and talked on the phone; sure it was just easier to cross Forest Hills and sit on one of your porches to chat until it was past midnight and you were dozing off, but as the cold weather rolled in, the phone was the easier bet.

Racked up a bit of a phone bill but who was he to complain?

He always paid Wayne back.

It was worth it.

More often than not he started the call with the obligatory “what are you wearing” despite having most likely seen you earlier in the night. But you, not one to leave a man hanging, would always come up with a comical response: astronaut suit, Princess Leia’s bikini and a clown nose, pajamas made out of the hide of Big Bird himself.

It was ridiculous and nothing less than Eddie expected from his favorite tv character and the one true love of his life.

Thankfully, the two of you decided that sickeningly sweet was not your style. Not like some couples. There was no you hang up first or schmoopsie pet names. More often than not he just called you sweetheart; it rolled off the tongue. And you? Called him your idiot.

Yours.

He'd worried with Paige once upon a time that he didn't know how to be someone's boyfriend. Turned out, he just had to find someone to be a friend first, then the rest just...fell into place.

And aside from some of the nerves he'd had when you first showed up in town, and the ever-present question of just how you came to be in Hawkins--

There was a knock on the door to his bedroom.

"'Right Ed, I'm heading off to work," Wayne said through the door.

"Wait up," you called out to him as you hopped to pull your boots on. "I'm about to leave too."

You stopped briefly to give Eddie a tender kiss, and he chased after you when you tried to pull away. His lips refused to part from yours, his hands found your waist to tug you closer, and his heart soared when you sighed and gave into him a little longer.

--Everything was perfect.

You gave him a dreamy smile when you pulled away, one that quickly turned into a feral grin.

"I'm gonna be late," you whispered conspiratorially. "And the old man is gonna question whether your innocence is still intact or not if we take any more time."

Eddie froze.

Well. Almost perfect.

You took the opportunity to stick your tongue out at him and reached up to honk the tip of his nose, before you bolted from the room to leave.

Once the door to the trailer slammed shut and Eddie was alone, he fell back onto the bed with his hands over his face; his head spun as he wondered how the fuck he'd gotten here. To this point. This moment in time.

Because somehow...some way...you thought he was still a virgin.

"Somehow," he grumbled to himself after a second. "You're the one who told her you were, you idiot!"

And he had.

It was a funny story; it always was with Eddie.

Except this was anything but funny.

It has been the third date and there was just…a natural progression of things on your sofa after a day out at StarCourt. Music was playing, hands were wandering; he’d gotten a bit excited and rocked his hips against you creating a delicious crescendo of moans from both of you.

Then for some reason, Eddie thought back to Port Geneva.

Besides a few sweet kisses you shared with douchebag Mark Fisher, you never engaged in any…physical show of affection. No one did, actually. There had never been anything heavier than hand holding and kissing—maybe the occasional make out—shown on screen. Which, in hindsight he should have rationalized as being obvious; it was a family show on television, after all.

Instead he’d opened his big mouth and asked “hang on, are you a virgin?”

Rather than answer, you got bashful all of a sudden; you turned the question back on him, stuttering all the while.

“Eddie…a-are you a-a virgin?”

What could he say looking into your big wide eyes and kiss-bruised lips, thinking you were nervous and wanting to fix his gaff—especially considering all the blood had rushed from his brain to his cock—but yes?

Next thing he knew you were cuddling him, coddling him, and telling him that you could proceed with whatever next step he wanted, whenever he was ready.

In that moment how could he admit that it was all a lie? That he was an idiot and a liar trying to make you feel better? That he was no bumbling, blushing virgin; he was only saying it because he thought you were.

He knew if he tried to backtrack, you’d either believe he was a jerk or that he tried to lie again to feel less embarrassed.

So he let it slide.

Whatever. Virginity was a bullshit concept anyway.

The truth would come out eventually. It just made everything a little more complicated in the mean time.

“As if everything isn’t complicated enough anyway,” Eddie huffed.

Speaking of complicated, between napping in your comfortable embrace, your kiss, and thinking of the events that led up to the unfortunate virginity confession, he was in a bit of a situation.

Stiff and aching in his jeans, he did what he always did: Eddie took care of himself.

He unbuckled his belt and quickly rid himself of the barriers of denim and flannel, then scrambled to find the bottle of lotion that he unceremoniously shoved into the drawer of the bedside table. Just like all of the other things he tried to hide whenever you came over.

Other things...including the poster of you that he'd cut out of the TV Guide.

There was a spark of desire in him—of need—at the sight of it. Of you.

"I shouldn't," he muttered as his fingers hovered at the edge of the drawer, ready to close it. He'd already found what he needed. Best just close the drawer and crank one out and be a happy camper til the next time the need arose.

"It's just...not right...right?" he tried to convince himself as you stared up at him from inside the drawer.

He weighed the pros and cons, tried to convince himself that it was a normal thing. How many other times had he jacked off to pictures in magazines, or crushes from school. Shit, he'd even done it to the fantasy of you.

But now you were real and his girlfriend. Wasn’t that some kind of moral dilemma?

On the other hand, he would just be using a picture of his girlfriend to get off. That was normal, right?

Except...well...it was you, but not you you. Rosemary Glass you. The real you just left for work. The you in real life and the you in the TV Guide were not the same. You were full of life and energy and affection and not an ultra posed picture on a page.

There was another beat of debate before Eddie made a decision.

"Fuck it," he groaned and grabbed the flimsy magazine page and then slammed the back of his hand against the drawer to shut it. If he spent any more time weighing the moral implications here, he'd lose out on the opportunity.

So, poster in one hand, lotion well-coating the other, Eddie immediately sought out his hard cock and groaned with the brief sense of relief.

"Yeah," he sighed. His tongue traced the seam of his lips and he locked eyes with yours in the poster. "That's it."

Internal debate forgotten, he lost himself to his imagination with every stroke and squeeze and twist.

You kissed on him and your hand replaced his. No, your mouth instead of your hand. His mouth on you? He knew what your mouth tasted like; what about the rest of you? It was a delicious fantasy to explore.

His eyes roamed over the dips and curves of your body; he focused on the way your legs looked in that skirt as he squeezed the base of his cock and moaned.

What he wouldn't give to rip that skirt off of you. No, wait. You deserved better than that. He would undress you carefully, show how much you meant to him, then skink into your warmth. How would you feel? Like Heaven, he was sure.

His hand moved faster now, his toes curled, as he imagined this scenario and that one. What if he fucked you in the backseat of your car? Or shit, what about if he bent you over it? Take a drive out to the quarry and have his way with you.

"Fuck, fuck," he groaned and stilled for a second, savoring the intense build of feelings, before he bucked up into his fist repeatedly. "Yeah sweetheart just like that."

He focused on that sly smile, that tilt of your head.

Would you smile up at him like that when he was buried deep inside you, finding all the ways he could make you whine and keen for him. Shit, finding all the ways he would whine for you, just like he was now. Would you ask him for more?

"I'll give it to you baby," he muttered and bit his lip as the wave of his pleasure began to crest. He closed his eyes again to savor it. Savor the fantasy of you there with him, rocking and riding the wave with him. He couldn't wait for the day. "All of it. Whatever you want. Whatever you need."

Would you let him cum inside? You'd beg for it. Beg for his cum.

"Yeah? You'd let me?" he asked breathlessly.

"Please, please," you'd whine.

"Uh-huh? Yeah?"

"Please." You'd scrunch your eyes tightly, pull him in as deep as he could go. "Put a baby inside of me Eddie."

Eddie's eyes shot open and he choked on air. He let go of the now-crumpled magazine and his throbbing cock with a shout.

Panic gripped him.

"W-what the fuck?" he panted, rapidly coming down from his high like a man plummeting to the earth with a parachute that simply wouldn't open. "What the fuck? Why?"

His mind raced.

How had he thought of that? Where did it come from? He wasn't...he didn't...he'd never fantasized about something like that before. With anyone. Ever. Not alone either. Shit, he'd even accidentally checked out a porno from Family Video once that had a pregnant...

"Blagh," he gagged at the memory and fully lost the edge of his erection. The need to come was now gone; in fact, he suddenly never wanted to come again. Not if it meant that he was going to think thoughts like that?

With intense clarity, he tried to retrace his metaphorical steps. Tried to remember what exactly got him to those thoughts, to that...well, he could hardly call it a fantasy now could he? Nightmare. But he simply couldn't fathom how it had cropped up.

"Fuck," he groaned and looked down at himself. At his softening cock slick with lotion, at the crumpled picture of you with the sparkling eyes and smile. And he was reminded of the moral dilemma that he'd encountered a short while ago.

"No," he shook his head. "Not her. Rosemary Glass. That's all it is. I just...fucked myself up fantasizing about Rosemary Glass and my mind punished me. Haha Eddie, jokes on you, got the girl of your dreams and you'd prefer a picture. That's it."

Yeah, that's all it was.

All it had to be.

Otherwise...what the fuck was wrong with him?

What the fuck was wrong with Eddie Munson?

That seemed to be the question of the day, every day, for the rest of the week.

Well, that was what everyone seemed to ask Eddie; friends, teachers, bullies. To Eddie, though, it seemed like everything else was wrong.

It all started in O'Donnell's history class the following day after the, uh...fantasy incident.

He was excited to show up to class.

No, that wasn't why things were wrong. He'd been passing History, working hard ever since that first study date, excited to show up and succeed and actually graduate. And that day they were due to get a test back, one that he actually studied and prepared for.

So yes, he was excited.

Imagine his surprise when Mrs. O'Donnell placed the packet face-down on his desk and shook her head at him.

"I don't know what went wrong here Edward," she tutted. "You were making some real improvements. Such a disappointment."

Eddie frowned as she walked away, and he quickly flipped his packet over to the oh-so-familiar sea of red pen scribbles and a big fat F at the top of the page.

Not just an F. A zero.

"What the fuck?" he whispered.

He might not have been a star student but he’s never outright tanked a test before. Especially not one he’s studied for.

He went over every question again and every answer, wracked his brain for the responses he knew to be true—he had several B’s and C’s on quizzes to prove it—and then read the wrong answers on the test for all of them. Written in his obvious chicken scratch with doodles in the margins just like he remembered drawing when he took the test. So it's not like someone just wrote his name on their test.

O’Donnell took pity on him at the end of class and said he could sit for the test again during his study hall, especially since he’d been making some improvement. He’d practically kissed her.

Only for him to fail again.

He burned with self-hatred at first, and then simply turned his rage on O'Donnell, because he knew all of the answers. She must have just been a picky grader.

That was it, right? She just had it in for him.

But then other things just got worse.

Jason Carver might have been a tool bag and an antagonistic bully but he’d never been outright hostile before. Not like some of his predecessors.

Not like Tommy…Tommy H.

On an unrelated note, that bothered Eddie too. He couldn’t remember Tommy’s last name. Tommy who bullied him and his friends viciously. Tommy H…Tommy Hayes? Tommy Hagan? Both existed in his mind. And yeah normally he wouldn't give a shit but what the hell? First the History test and now Tommy H?

Regardless, Jason had been especially brutal lately.

Overly antagonistic, even calling Edde a freak in the middle of class. He and the rest of the basketball team had even begun their physical assault on him and his friends openly. The jocks pushed them into lockers, spit on them, and threw things. Gareth even got a black eye when they "ran into" the jocks after gym on Thursday.

Eddie knew he wasn't well-liked, but it burned him deep inside that no one spoke up, students and teachers alike. It was all out in the open, where everyone could see or report to the faculty. Even his friends kept their mouths shut and endured the abuse.

No one seemed to be bothered though; they kept to the status quo. And Eddie wasn’t gonna try his luck with Higgins on his own.

Cowards.

Friday morning, Eddie thought he had the answer; Chrissy Cunningham—Queen of Hawkins High and Jason’s girlfriend—spoke to him in homeroom. Not only spoke to him, but made moon eyes at him in every class they shared and in the hall between the classes that they didn't.

And it was getting annoying.

“Dude, Chrissy keeps looking over here,” Jeff whispered at lunch.

“I know!” Eddie slammed his hands on the table, startling the others. He took a calming breath and repeated himself, softer, to Jeff.

“What’s her deal? Does she wanna join Hellfire or something?”

“I dunno man, something strange is happening,” he shook his head and picked at his food. “I don’t know if she’s in some…argument with Jason and is trying to make him jealous. Or if she’s just bored and is enjoying his torment of the village idiots or something.”

“Maybe she wants to buy some weed,” Gareth piped up. “Slumber party with the rest of the cheer squad. She is the Captain. It’s her job to score.”

“Nah man,” Dave chortled. “I think it’s more likely that she’s trying to score in a different way. Get Eddie to fall in love with her or something and make a fool out of him.”

The guys all started laughing and making kissy noises, much to Eddie’s growing annoyance. Every puckering noise grated something deep within him. And it only pissed him offs more when the freshman started to get in on the fun, with Mike and Lucas singing about Eddie and Chrissy sitting in a tree—

“K-I-S-S-I-N—”

“Shut up!” Eddie slammed his hands on the table and shouted, voice echoing across the cafeteria, practically silencing everyone at the intrusion.

His shoulders heaved as he glared over at the jock’s table, where a certain someone with a bouncing strawberry ponytail waved hello, even as she sat with her boyfriend’s arm comfortably around her. And said boyfriend was glaring knives at him; if looks could kill, Eddie would be done for.

His thoughts spiraled and his ears started to ring.

What the fuck was going on? Why was everyone trying to fuck with him now? Why was everything suddenly out of control in such a short period of time? Was this karma? He got one thing he desperately needed so everything else was going to shit?

Suddenly he had an out of body experience, or at least…that’s what it felt like. He watched it all happen, felt all the movements and the words fly out of his mouth but he wasn’t in control.

One moment he was sitting at the head of his table, hands tented in front of his face as he contemplated life, and the next he was standing. Standing on top of the table, actually, and while that wasn’t an unusual occurrence, it’s what he did up there that was.

“Hey Carver, you have a fucking problem with me?” He shouted, hands cupped around his mouth. “Why don’t you step into my office and file a complaint!”

His arms swept outwards of their own volition and he bowed over to gesture to the table and to his friends.

“Pretty sure my associates have a few choice words for you too.”

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck…

Jason was on his feet immediately, with Patrick and Andy quick to follow.

“What’s your damage freak?” He chuckled sardonically through gritted teeth. “Trying to have your own little David and Goliath moment? Prepare to get toppled.”

“Wait, do you think you’re David right now? You think you’re a hero?”Jeff scoffed and got to his feet, spurning the rest of Corroded Coffin to do the same, sending jeers and taunts across the room. The jocks did much of the same, name calling and shouting vicious threats.

“I’m gonna kick your ass Emerson!”

“Kick? How about kiss! Just like your mom likes to do!”

It kept going until Eddie took a few steps down the table, leant down, and scooped his fingers through Mike’s gloopy mashed potatoes, ready to fling a handful towards the enemies.

He was prepared for the worst as he witnessed it all from inside his own body, as he felt the gravy slip down his hand and into the sleeve of his jacket. An all out war, the need to protect his friends again—worse this time with the Freshman—the dread of listening to Gareth’s fingers breaking once more…it would all start once the first shot was fired.

If there was a God—or some fate writing this in the books of the universe who was just really bad at writing a fight sequence—now would be the time for them to make themselves known.

“Munson!”

Eddie inhaled the air greedily as he regained control of himself, and he marveled at Higgins' sudden appearance: standing in the doorway to the cafeteria with Coach Palmer and Nancy Wheeler standing behind him.

He’d never been so happy to see them in his life.

“Munson,” Higgins shouted at him. “Get down from there!”

Jeff, knowing what was good for them all, pulled Eddie down from the table and he stumbled on legs made weak from the rapid loss of adrenaline. Lucas passed a handful of paper napkins for him to clean off his hands as Higgins and Coach crossed the cafeteria, Coach to take care of his little minions, and Higgins to take care of him.

Despite their tenuous truce, Higgins grabbed Eddie by the arm and tugged him towards the cafeteria doors.

“Detention,” he hissed in Eddie’s face.

“My fucking pleasure,” Eddie replied desperately, suddenly a devout believer in whatever deity he had evoked.

Man, this was getting to be a habit.

As he was escorted out of the cafeteria, Eddie vaguely heard Dustin over the din of classmate whispers.

“Guys, that was weird. What’s wrong with Eddie?”

“What do you mean?” Gareth answered blithely. “He’s always like that.”

"I can't believe you got detention."

"I mean, Higgins could have expelled me. Or tried to get me to drop out again."

"I really fucking hate that guy," you muttered and reached out to grab a box from the shelf. "How about this one?"

"Seen it, fake blood is obviously fake."

"You're such a horror snob."

"Don't deny it," he whispered in your ear and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "That's your favorite thing about me."

You put the movie back on the shelf in a huff and then the two of you shuffled forward down the aisle.

Saturdays were made to be spent together; Saturday mornings specifically. Eddie would take as much time with you as he could, but Hawkins was Hawkins and there was only so much to do. So you designated Saturdays as mornings out before you went to work and Eddie made the rounds to whatever parties he could safely show his face at and make some quick cash.

You traded off on whoever made plans, and today he had pathetically suggested a movie, snacks, and cuddling on the couch, needing to find a respite in your arms after the abject chaos of his week.

He already felt worlds better, more like himself, because you listened and understood.

He ranted and cursed during the drive and you hung onto every word, only interjecting to offer gentle encouragement. You didn't pity him or blame him--well, you blamed him for almost starting a food fight and since he couldn't explain what overcame him in that moment, he accepted it--but you made sure he knew that you had been in his shoes and understood exactly how he felt.

His dependence on you made itself known when you got into the store. As much as you protested his arms latching around you immediately, he knew you secretly enjoyed the proximity and the sweetness that he lavished you with.

Hobbling down the aisles with him practically attached to you; whispered stories, jokes, and terms of endearment; and an occasional raspberry on your neck if and when you had differing opinions about a movie.

Eddie thought The Outsiders was a good movie. You preferred the book. Which was fine. You tried to tell him Rob Lowe was cute, though; that earned you some punishment.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you never had a crush on a celebrity," you snorted and squealed and tried to free yourself from his grasp. Which you did successfully as your words made him freeze. "Or like...a character from a tv show or something."

You didn't know how close to the truth you were.

He felt his world tilt on its axis as you kept browsing and spouting off names and laughing, and with each celebrity or character you named, the more he thought of Port Geneva with intense clarity.

He could hear the theme song, see the neon text of the closing card, and feel his heart skip a beat when you'd show up on screen and greet your friends "Hey guys!"

"Hey guys!" your same voice rang from the other side of the partition of tapes, same emphasis and volume and cheer as you would on tv, as you greeted Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington. "Are those new?"

"Mmhmm," Robin affirmed. "Technically they were supposed to go out yesterday for the weekend, but someone was too busy flirting with Melanie Hartford."

Steve's embarrassed trip-up over a response was overshadowed as you called out.

"Hey Eddie, come here, I think they're putting out some new movies."

Eddie took a breath to compose himself, carefully placed the mask of cool and adoring boyfriend back on, and then rounded the corner to join you.

"If it's Death Wish 3 on tape, it wasn't that goo--" Eddie trailed off as he stopped in his tracks.

He understood why Steve sounded so embarrassed.

Eddie mainly steered clear of Steve Harrington over the years; yeah he was a shithead and a bit of a bully, but especially since the Freshman insisted that Steve was a nice guy, he'd tried to put it all in the past. Best not think of King Steve and all of the opportunities and advantages that he'd gotten, no matter how good of a guy they claimed he was.

Knowing Harrington's reputation and then fall from grace over the past few months though, he wondered if Steve had ever had some unreciprocated crush before.

Because he was certainly acting like he had a crush in front of you.

A crush on you.

Eddie knew what it looked like when someone had a crush; shit, he'd felt that way plenty of times over the years. The shifting eyes, the nervous stuttering. He'd gotten pretty good at hiding it, being able to put on the cool guy front. But Steve was doing it all out in the open.

Steve watched as you and Robin passed tapes back and forth--watched you more than Robin, actually--threw a comment in every now and again. When he cracked a joke, his eyes slid directly to you, and when you laughed, he beamed brightly.

And Eddie didn't know what he was more grateful for: the fact that you seemed oblivious to it all, or that he was there to witness it and put an end to it.

He tamped down the fire that built up inside of him and closed the distance; he threw an arm over your shoulder with a cool greeting to Robin and Steve.

"I've never even heard of some of these movies, have you?" Robin asked with some bewilderment.

"I don't know, this one sounds familiar," you hummed thoughtfully.

"See that's what I told Rob," Steve interjected and Eddie grit his teeth.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Robin scoffed.

"Isn't this the girl from Legend?" You held up a video box to Eddie to show him. He couldn't be bothered to really notice the titles of the movies on display--Ferris Bueller's Day Off, The Lost Boys, Lethal Weapon--and instead he chose to press a kiss to the side of your head and continue glaring at Steve.

You turned back to Robin.

"Do you guys have Legend? I saw it when it came out but it'd be nice to see it again."

"I can show you!" Steve jumped at the chance, but Robin rolled her eyes and pushed him away.

"I've got this dingus," she waved at the tapes on the counter. "If you could finish processing these like you should've done yesterday?"

Steve huffed as you and Robin walked away, but Eddie stayed behind. He leaned over the counter, elbows resting against the edge.

"How've things been Harrington?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Uhh," Steve shrugged but pointedly ignored Eddie's eyes. "Good, fine."

"Did I overhear Buckley right? Going on dates? You finally over Nancy Wheeler," Eddie's voice got progressively louder.

"What the--listen keep your voice down, Jesus," Steve laughed nervously, gaze shifting in the direction that you and Robin had disappeared. "A guy's gotta move on. Can't be lovesick over Nance forever."

Eddie plastered a fake smile on his face and laughed heartily.

"Yeah? Gotta find someone else to obsess over?" The smile dropped almost immediately and he became dead-eyed. "Stop making goo-goo eyes at my girlfriend."

"Hey, Munson, I'm sorry--" Steve held his hands out innocently. "She just came in one day and I thought she was cute; I didn't know that you were--"

"I'm sorry," Eddie mimicked Steve, standing stiff and straight with shaking hands. "I didn't know the freak could have a girlfriend."

He reached across the counter and grabbed Steve by the vest and pulled him forward, close enough so he could get in his face.

"Don't look at her again, don't talk to her again," he hissed. "You can have literally any other girl in Hawkins, King Steve. So you better get over your crush fast."

Yeah, it was harsh, and in hindsight he should have been a little nicer about it. But after everything had compounded on him all week, it was nice to just be a raging asshole like everyone expected him to be.

Unfortunately, you had never experienced Eddie The Villain Munson.

"Eddie, what the hell!" you exclaimed as you appeared in his peripheral vision.

Until right that second.

"Let him go, what are you doing?" you rushed forward and slapped at his hands to get him to release Steve. He did, but continued to glare as he backed away and took several calming breaths.

"Hey, in all honesty," Robin laughed nervously as she returned to the counter. "Dudley Do-Right here probably said something dumb and deserved it."

"What's going on?" you ignored her and whispered to Eddie. "I thought we were just gonna have a relaxing day. You were fine two seconds ago. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," he deflected. "Don't worry about it."

"We can just go home and hang out like you wanted; you said Wayne has some Bonanza reruns on tape. We can laugh at Hoss and Little Joe and--"

His eyes went wide; the Bonanza tapes were by the TV, mixed up with the Port Geneva tapes.

"No!" he shouted aggressively...defensively; it startled you. "No Bonanza!"

"Oh...kay."

Then your whole demeanor changed.

You crossed your arms in front of you and your eyes went cold and distant; you frowned, deep enough to create lines on your forehead and around your mouth. You suddenly looked a lot older than you were, aged by disappointment and...guilt maybe? He didn't know. He'd never seen you like that before, and he suddenly felt bad.

"Let's uhh...let's just go," you offered quickly, then apologized to Steve and Robin for taking their time.

"Hey wait, I'm sorry," he tried to apologize. "We can still get a movie and hang out. I just...I don't know...I fucked up. I'm sorry."

"No, I...I forgot Bev said she might need some extra help today. Making some changes, I don't know. I need to go in. It's my fault. I'm sorry."

"Sweetheart wait!" he called out as you walked out of the store and towards your car. He looked back at Robin and Steve, who pointedly avoided looking at him, and then huffed a sigh and followed you.

The ride back to Forest Hills was tense and silent.

Eddie knew he fucked up, knew he hurt you, but didn't know what to say or how to fix it.

"What the fuck is wrong with Eddie Munson?"

That was the question of the week, and now even Eddie was asking it of himself. Especially since he couldn't even control himself.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to you when you parked in front of his place. "I don't know...I'm just sorry."

"It's ok," you shook your head. "Seriously Eddie, don't worry about it. You just had a bad week. I need to go to work. We'll hang out another time."

"I'll call you tonight," he promised. "After work."

"Sure," you offered a tight-lipped smile. "Just rest today ok? And feel better."

"Yeah."

"Everything's gonna be ok."

"I know."

He leaned over and gave you a kiss and there was something about the way that you kissed him...that made his heart ache, and he didn't know why.

Eddie watched as you drove away, off to the Hideout to help Bev, or whatever else you could do if it ended up being a lie so you could just get away from him.

He'd fix it; he had to. He just got his wish, got you; he couldn't lose you. It would be the last straw.

He climbed up the porch steps, lost in his own thoughts, but when he opened the door--

"What the fuck?"

--all of his worries were forgotten, because the trailer was trashed.

Wayne was blissfully asleep on the fold-out bed, but there were piles of laundry on the couch, dirty dishes piled in the sink in the kitchen. Empty, crushed beer and soda cans littered the floor; honestly, there was just trash everywhere.

Eddie had only left an hour or two ago, and the trailer...well it might have had some clutter but at least it was tidy. It looked like an atomic bomb of trash had exploded in here.

If he had just been wondering what was wrong with him, he was suddenly wondering what was wrong with the universe again.

"What the fuck?"

The rest of the weekend had been spent cleaning.

Not tidying, literally cleaning.

He'd tried to ask Wayne about it all--maybe some weird trash bandit had come or kids trying to pull a prank, it wasn't like they really locked their doors--but what was even more suspicious was that Wayne didn't blink an eye at the mess.

"I work, you have school," he shook his head and tried to go back to sleep. "Chores pile up kid. That's the way it's always been. We'll get ahead of it again eventually."

And that just made Eddie feel bad; had it actually been this bad all along and he never realized it? Had Wayne done all this cleaning and housework on his own and now the weariness and the years just started to catch up? It must've only gotten worse now that Eddie lived with him.

So Eddie kept his head down and his mouth shut and tried to make it all better.

He cleaned and cleaned, and it seemed that no matter how much he cleaned, everything only got worse. The laundry on the sofa had been put away--more laundry than Eddie or Wayne really even had clothes to be honest. The fridge was somehow both empty--even though he'd just remembered to do a little grocery shopping...or had that been the other day--and full of rotten food at the same time. There was plenty of beer though. The dishes were all cleaned and spotless, only for him to come home from school on Monday afternoon to find them all to be right back again. Has they even used real dishes? Not that he could recall.

Fuck.

He complained to you on the phone late Saturday night--

"I don't know how it happened. It's like suddenly out of the blue it all just...appeared."

"Wayne didn't hold a secret party while we were out?" you asked, although your voice seemed stiff...distant.

"He just rolled right over and went back to sleep."

--but aside from some sympathy, you didn't seem to think anything was weird.

Hell, even his friends didn't seem suspicious.

"The trailer is always dirty," Gareth scoffed at practice on Monday night. "Like...no offense man, it's a trailer park, what do you expect."

It took everything in Eddie not to knock his buddy out right then and there; how many times had he told them how awful and stereotypical that kind of idea was. How hurtful people were when they found out he'd moved in with Wayne. Only for Gare to come back and spit it back at him again?

Instead he put that hateful energy into coming up with some kind of way to make you...forgive him...or love him again or something. He'd floated the idea of a ballad or some kind of love song to the guys at practice, ready to wow you on Tuesday night at the Hideout.

They hemmed and hawed but after he promised they'd all roll with advantage during the following Friday's session, they agreed and even suggested songs to get him back in your good graces.

Now it was Tuesday night. Time had passed by in a flash and he was standing at the door to the Hideout, ready to knock your socks off.

The guys were inside already, setting up, but he'd needed a moment to think of what to say to you.

He paced in the gravel, thought about his apology, thought about the song that he'd picked. The last song of the set, one he'd dedicate to you.

It would be perfect.

He mustered up the courage and walked inside, only to be hit by shock once again.

How many times could someone utter the words "what the fuck" in one week? Eddie had to be going for a world record.

When Eddie had suggested the Hideout when you mentioned looking for jobs, he'd warned you that Bev was a curmudgeon but the nicest curmudgeon you'd meet, and that the bar itself was, affectionately, a shithole. A house turned into a bar on the side of the highway, with a bunch of plywood in the corner that doubled as a stage, a makeshift bartop that was probably older than his uncle, and chipped glasses.

Now, it was almost...nice?

With an actual small, raised stage and a few spotlights hanging from the ceiling, neon signs boasting brands like Old Style and Coors--something Bev had always said was just the glitter and not the gold--and a sleek black bar with a marble top and comfortable-looking barstools. And it all had Eddie wondering if he'd stepped into the Twilight Zone.

That was it right? That had to be it. He'd stepped into the Twilight Zone the minute you'd showed up outside of his trailer and he hadn't returned to the real world since.

"Hey, there you are," you approached him from behind the bar with a tense smile. "The guys were wondering when you'd come in. I got them all cherry cokes to shut them up."

"You didn't have to buy them drinks," Eddie shook his head. "They don't deserve it."

"On the house," you reassured him.

"I'm sorry," he choked on air. "On the...on the house? On the house meaning...Bev's treating? Bev who must've secretly won the lottery or something? Look at all of this." He gestured around the bar and then lifted his feet. "The floors aren't even sticky."

"I told you that she was making changes," you shrugged, but refused to meet his eyes.

"Changes, not...a full renovation, wow." He looked around in awe, then squinted when he saw something on one of the tables. "She even sprung for printed napkins too."

"Yeah," you laughed nervously. "Guess she did. It's as much of a shock to me as it is to you. You, uh, better get the guys before they cause too much trouble."

"Yeah I should," he nodded slowly, but grabbed your wrist when you tried to walk away. "I know I've said it a million times sweetheart but I'm sorry I scared you."

"You didn't Ed, I promise," you tried to smile but it didn't quite reach your eyes.

"Can we talk maybe? After the set? Like really talk? I'll even wipe the tables off for you." You hesitated but nodded, and he gave you the briefest peck on the cheek before running down the back hallway to the little smokers exit to find the guys.

Only to find them in a legitimate green room in what he was sure used to be the storage room where Bev kept the kegs. His friends were all laid out along leather couches that sat along the perimeter of the room, sipping their cherry cokes and chatting. There was a coffee table right in the center laden with snacks and magazines.

"Man," he commented with a whistle, alerting the guys to his presence. "Can you guys believe this?"

"I know," Jeff giggled maniacally and then reached out to grab a bag of peanut M&M's. "Brand name snacks, and not the generic kind we usually get."

"Makes me feel like we're about to hit it big," Dave agreed.

Eddie tripped over his words for a second, not entirely sure that they were as astounded by the Hideout's transformation as he was, but he shook off the bewilderment to tell them it was time to go perform.

They raced back down the hall to the stage, and although the bar had just been empty when he walked in--save for you and some of the regulars slumped in their seats--there was definitely a crowd. Or the beginnings of one. A couple canoodling at a table, a few college-aged people ordering beers, and a group for a bachelorette party or something at the large booth that had been installed in the corner by the door.

"Wow," Eddie breathed out, nerves suddenly overtaking him. They'd never played a crowd like this before. "Hope they like metal."

And they did. They were head banging and once they were familiar enough with the lyrics a few people were singing along.

It was invigorating. Refreshing. Aside from the handful of people who'd been involved in the whole...record label fiasco, he'd really never experienced this many people who were excited for his sound. Their sound.

He wasn't gonna betray his friends, his band, like that again.

There were a few songs that Jeff and Gareth suggested that weren't originally on their setlist, and they really weren't metal technically, but they all knew the songs and the crowd was excited for them, so he couldn't complain.

Towards the end of the set, he felt his stomach churn with nerves again. Worse now, because it was time.

"Uh," he stepped up to the microphone, a little too close as it squeaked with feedback. "Hey guys, thanks for uh...thanks for coming out. Make sure you...tip your bartender...and her lovely assistant." He gestured over to you and a grumpy-looking Bev at the bar.

The audience clapped, even the handful of drunk regulars.

"Now uh, speaking of the lovely assistant, I...um..." he cleared his throat and looked down at his guitar. "I might have messed some stuff up with her the other day, and I know she's still a little mad at me. So sweetheart, without further ado, this one's for you. Corroded Coffin's rendition of..."

He paused. Froze.

The words were right on the tip of his tongue: All Through The Night.

They'd practiced it for hours, really making the cover theirs. They added all sorts of guitar riffs and a sick solo that ended with him sending a kiss across the bar to you. It was supposed to be perfect.

He cleared his throat and tried again.

"Corroded Coffin's All..." He shook, struggled to get the words out. "All...All My Only Dreams. Enjoy."

What the fuck? What the fuck?

He felt that out of body experience again, just like he had in the cafeteria, as his fingers plucked at the strings of his guitar and Gareth and Dave set a slow beat.

It felt like some bad knockoff song from the 60's. Maybe something he heard on one of his mom's records. But he couldn't place it.

What was this song? How did the guys know it? Why had he said that? What was All My Only Dreams?

It was certainly not metal. Certainly not music.

"Every night I pray, I'll have you here someday," he felt himself sing. "I'll count the stars tonight, and hope with all my might..."

He stared at you across the bar as the song continued, out of his control; the couple stood from their table and began swaying back and forth and you stood there behind the bar, wide-eyed with a hand covering your mouth. In shock or disbelief or pain he couldn't quite tell.

"Every waking hour it seems, I only have you in my dreams."

All he knew was, this song kept going and going and he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to. Couldn't stop himself from playing or singing, couldn't stop Jeff from harmonizing with him on certain verses.

Until the song was over.

"If I could have just one request, stay with me girl I'll confess, all my only dreams."

He strummed the last few notes, and as soon as the audience started clapping, he felt whatever puppet strings get cut, felt himself in control again.

Eddie panicked. He didn't even wait for the applause to be over, didn't thank the crowd like he usually would. He just swung the guitar over his shoulder and jumped off the stage with the guys hot on his heels.

"What's going on?" Gareth hollered after him.

"Yeah Ed, where are you going?" Jeff caught up to him and tried to put a hand out to stop him, but Eddie just shrugged him away.

"That was our best performance ever," Dave insisted. "And applause on an original song to boot."

Eddie froze as he reached the green room, and then turned on his friends, hackles raised.

"Original song." He parroted. "Original song? That wasn't an original song!"

"Yeah it was," Jeff nodded. "All My Only Dreams. You made us practice it all night last night so it was perfect."

"We practiced All Through the Night," he laughed dryly. "Are you high right now Jeff? Fuck, am I high right now?"

"Are you?" Gareth exclaimed. "Because I didn't just learn that song so you could make it up to your girlfriend just so you could act crazy like this man."

Jeff walked over to the pile of their stuff in the corner of the room, and fished a folded piece of paper out of the pocket of his backpack.

"Here I'll prove it to you," he grumbled and unfolded it. "All My Only Dreams. By Eddie Munson."

He shoved the paper into Eddie's hands and Eddie stared at it in disbelief. His handwriting, again, with words that he didn't remember writing. A little heart in the corner with your name scribbled inside of it, just like he did in his school notebook sometimes.

"What the fuck..." he muttered to himself, and then looked up at his friends, suddenly lightheaded and sick.

He felt angry, he felt like crying, he felt like...like everything in the world was turning upside down on him and it was some kind of cruel joke that everyone was in on but him.

He opened his mouth to start yelling, when your head appeared behind the guys.

"Hey, 'scuse me guys," you announced your presence and Dave, Jeff, and Gareth all parted so Eddie had a full view of you.

You looked just as sick as he felt. Your face was crumpled in a terrible pensive frown, hands wrung together in front of you.

"Can you give me and Eddie a few minutes alone? While you all break down your stuff?" you asked softly, and Eddie felt his heart drop into his stomach as the others left.

You closed the door to the green room behind you and then took a few deep breaths.

This was it.

You were gonna break up with him.

The universe was cruel to let Eddie have you, only to play these games and lose you in such a short amount of time.

He was so caught up in the panic of possibly losing you that he didn't notice you talking until you were right in front of him. Your hands cradled his face and you stared into his eyes, your own full of worry.

"Eddie, Eddie are you ok?" you asked, voice edged with panic.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat. "Yeah, sorry...I was..."

"It's ok, don't worry," you reassured him. "It's...fuck...it's ok."

"Did you like the song?" he questioned, dumbly.

You let out a snort of laughter and then squished his face between your hands for a second.

"We need to talk," you whispered. "It's gonna be a lot. And it's not gonna be easy to hear, and I know you're gonna have a lot of questions, and I don't...I...fuck Ed...I'm so sorry."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"I..." You looked lost for a second. "Eddie, I don't know how to answer that question. No...not really."

"Not really isn't no."

"Alright smartass," you scoffed. "No, I'm not breaking up with you. But that doesn't mean...doesn't mean that this thing we've got going on now isn't over. It's...what I'm gonna tell you right now is gonna change everything."

You helped him to sit down on one of the leather couches and then you paced back and forth, nervously chewing your thumbnail and looking for a way to start.

"This..." you began tentatively. "This isn't...real."

"So I am dreaming," he looked around for a moment. "Makes sense."

"No...you're not dreaming. It's just...well, ok, Ed. It's gonna be really hard to understand. But I'm gonna need you to tap into that big imagination of yours. Ok? Because God damn, if there was anyone I could get to understand, it's honestly you. Making up all sorts of stories and fantasies for Dungeons and Dragons.

“I’m sure you’ve started noticing things happening? Weird things, uncanny things, impossible things. And it’s making you go a little cross-eyed, a little crazy, makes you feel like you’re losing your mind because the only person who notices the changes…well it’s you. But it isn’t only you.

"This..." you waved around. "It's all real. It's a real world and we live in it. I'm real, you're real. I can touch you, kiss you. But it isn't. Not really."

He suddenly felt like you were talking down to him, and felt that irrational anger start to build again. You’d made sense up to a point. This was real, but it wasn't real, but it was real enough so he could kiss you? But somehow not real enough because you were bringing up stories he created for DnD, like it was all part of his imagination. But somehow he was also crazy?

"What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

"Eddie," you took a breath and closed your eyes for a second. "This right now? Everything you see? This room, that song, me, and you?"

"Yeah."

"We're all fictional. We're all...in a fan fiction."

Next Chapter: Lore Dump

There is no taglist for this series, please follow the STFF Updates tag or check the series out on AO3.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger than (fan)fiction #stff #stff updates #stranger things fic

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thatdammchickennugget · 4 months

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Slytherin Boys Headcanon Game Results

PART ONE - GENERAL QUESTIONS

-> these are based of the results from the headcanon game polls! a big thanks to everyone who participated! <3

[written in collaboration by @jayybugg , @finalgirllx and me]

wordcount - 3.6k (we might have gone a little overboard here...)

What are their zodiac signs?

Mattheo: He is a Capricorn: hardworking, practical, disciplined and ambitious. Mattheo, unbeknownst to most people, is very intelligent and takes pride in knowing he gets work done (although that work is usually a sketch or anything other than his actual schoolwork). He usually keeps school on the back burner but still gets pridefull when he performs well. Mattheo likes for things to make sense. A plan to sneak out into the Forbidden Forest? It has to make sense. A plan to prank Draco? It has to make sense. If it doesn’t make sense, he won’t do it or he will argue until it does. Mattheo is very disciplined which shocks a lot of people. If he says he's going to stop doing something, trust, he's going to stop doing it. He always has to succeed in what he does. But Mattheo has some Scorpio tendencies, for example he’s obsessive. If you’re his, YOU ARE HIS. He loves everything about you, he knows everything about you. When something peaks his interests, he researches all he can about it. A certain subjects seems interesting? He’s an expert on it the next day. Scorpios are also known to have jealousy problems and Mattheo gets JEALOUS. He can’t stand to see other boys touching you or even making you laugh. It took weeks for him to stop glaring daggers into poor Enzo’s head for making you snort one time. Another Scorpio trait he has is loyalty. He is super loyal to the people he cares about and deems worthy, and he expects that same loyalty from them.

Theo: He is a Pisces: adaptable, moody, intuitive, lazy and a natural healer. Even though he is more introverted and laid back, he has no problem making friends with all kinds of people. If he tries, he actually gets along well with students from any of the houses. He is able to adapt quickly to his surroundings and can easily change how he acts if the situation calls for it. This also makes him a pretty good liar too. Theo is also hella moody. His mood switches faster than most people blink and he can go from very happy to enraged in a matter of seconds. His friends tend to avoid him when they see his mood begin to change for the worst. It’s just better for everyone that way. Theo’s intuition is amazing. Mattheo always jokes and says that he is half Kneazle because he is usually right about untrustworthy people. He has saved his friends plenty of time in pursuing relationships with the wrong people. Because if Theo doesn’t like you then you’re probably a terrible person. Theo is also lazy as fuck. He prefers chill days rather than running around and doing things. He will wake up just on time for class and lay in bed until he ends up being late. He would try everything to get out of doing warm-ups for Quidditch practice: Arriving late, taking a long time to come out the changing room, talking up Hooch to pass time, etc. It usually ends up with him doing extra warm-ups, though because even he can't fool Hooch. He's also really good at taking care of others. Whenever one of the boys gets sick they go to Theo first. He has a cabinet full of potions and probably natural remedies he learned about from his mom to help them. He comes and checks on them, bringing them soup and scolding them if they aren’t resting. The boys call him Mama Theo when he’s like that.

Enzo: He is a Libra: fair, charming, a great listener, romantic and liked to avoid conflict. Enzo is the mediator of his friend group. With Draco, Mattheo, and Theo often resorting to yelling and arguing, someone has to be be the calm one who makes them sit down and talk it out and that is usually Enzo. He usually comes up with solutions that work for everyone. He's also known as a charmer among the other students. He can smooth talk his way out of a lot of things (detention, responsibilities, classes, etc.) but he can also smooth talk his way INTO a lot of things, too (Iykyk). He has a whole fanclub of girls. Like he can throw one wink at them and they’re doing his homework for the rest of the week. Teachers also love him and hee has gotten Mattheo out of detention more times than he can count. Enzo is very romantic. Once he gets into a relationship or serious about someone he goes all out (gifts, flowers, dates, love notes; he does it all). That's why he always has Theo vet his dates because he tends to go overboard. He doesn’t like fighting, he will do anything to avoid physical fights. But that doesn’t mean that he CAN’T fight. He has been known to people in the infirmary if they cross the people he cares about. Even though Enzo is a Libra, he has many Virgo traits. He’s analytical and detail-orientated like a Virgo. He pays attention to everything: A mood shift in your voice? He noticed. You don’t eat your favorite candy anymore? He noticed. Because of this, he tends to over-analize everything around him. It makes him spiral a lot into a million of thoughts and his friends always have to tell him to stop looking so deep into everything.

Blaise: He is a Virgo: kind, a perfectionist, reliable, intelligent and kind of a control freak. Blaise is second to Theo when it comes to being able to befriend students from other houses. He is usually the one who volunteers to help people, which shocks people because he’s usually so quiet and stoned faced. For Blaise, everything needs to be a certain way. He has the neatest dorm out of the entire friend group. Draco’s dorm is only clean because he has elves come to clean it but Blaise slaps on the gloves and pulls out the cleaning supplies himself. You can’t go in his room and just move things, tt sends him into a complete rage. Mattheo once moved all of Blaise’s things 1 inch to the left. Enzo and Theo had to stop him from hexing Mattheo. His perfectionism also plays a part in his love life. If a date doesn’t go exactly how he plans it, he will be in a foul mood for the whole night. Blaise is the most reliable out of the group. You need him to meet you somewhere at a a certain time? He’s there 15 minutes early. He's the one who brings the back up anything. He carries around extra lighters for Theo even though he doesn’t smoke. He also has a spare tie for Enzo when he spills food on his first one. He carries around a small first aid kit and small notebook filled with healing spells for Mattheo when he gets into fights. He has a small tube of cologne for Draco whenever misplaces his big one. He's always ten steps ahead of everybody else and has thought of almost everything. Blaise is super smart and he knows it. He likes to show it off, always sending his grades off to his mother and teasing the Ravenclaws and Hermione when he bests them on tests. He’s the type to keep every single academic award he’s ever gotten. Blaise is a control freak and it goes hand in hand with his perfectionism. He has to run things his way. He has group project to do? You have to follow his lead or he will cuss you out. It sometimes land him in a lot of arguments with his partners because he never knows when to loosen the grip on things. But ultimately he has good intentions.

Draco: He is a Gemini: communicative, quick witted, impulsive, blunt, indecisive and inquisitive. Draco is very quick to tell you how he feels about something. If doesn’t like it, you will know that he doesn’t like it. He’s strict on his boundaries and if you cross them you have about .02 seconds to correct yourself. Miscommunitication isn’t a thing for Draco. He is always clear and concise about what he says and what he wants. Draco is very quick witted. His comebacks are very legendary and funny. Most of the time, it’s really just the first thing that comes to his mind. Him and Pansy are always bickering and having sass offs because of this. Draco usually wins those sass offs. He tries to teach Theo and Mattheo how to be more quick-witted too. It never works though, they end up in fights regardless. Draco makes irrational decisions all the time. It’s weird because he’s indecisive too, so he ponders on the choices for a long time. Then picks the worst, most impulsive one. It usually lands him into some kind of trouble. He’s impulsive with his money too. He will buy a bunch of stuff due to his inability to make a rational decision. His mother has cut off his spending money multiple times because of this. Draco is also very blunt. Most people perceive it to be mean and borderline bullying (sometimes it is). But usually he’s never wrong about what he says, he just says it at the wrong time or in the wrong way. If you ever want someone to give you the cold hard truth, he's the person to go to. He is quick to snap Pansy and Enzo out of their delusions, always giving them a reality check. Never ask Draco to pick where you should eat, he will take hours to decide and by the end of the night, you will have eaten everything he suggested because he ended up buying all of it. He takes the longest to get ready and can’t pick an outfit to save his life. It irritates the boys a lot because they don’t understand how he takes so long, especially because most of the time they have to be in uniform. Draco asks a lot of questions and wants to know everything. He doesn’t understand something? He asks a question. He needs clarification? He asks. He asks so many questions that he is usually the one with all the latest gossip. People think he’s nosey (and he can be) but most of the time its because he’s confused.

What do they smell like?

Mattheo: He smells like a mix of cinnamon, vanilla and cider wood. It was probably the first cologne he ever bought and just stuck with it. He tries to mask the stench of cigarette smoke on his clothes with it but is never quite able to hide it.

Theo: The first smell you notice in his presence is tobacco and smoke and he doesn't try to hide it. The cologne he uses has a woodsy smell, something pine and sandalwood, and if you get close enough you'd also be able to pick up on the smell of books and parchment.

Enzo: He likes to buy more feminine soaps and isn’t a fan of most of the more masculine marketed ones, so he often smells like honey and flowers. A lot of the times he also smells of the pastries he would always go mad over during breakfast.

Blaise: He smells like candles, roses and the chocolate he likes to snack on while he studies. The smell of roses reminds him of his mom, so he always wears a cologne heavy on roses.

Draco: He smells of mint and apples and weirdly enough like rain, even when it's sunny and hasn't rained in days.

How tall are they?

Mattheo: He is 5'11 (1,80m), which doesn't make him short in any way but he would still call himself a short king.

Theo: He is 6'2 (188m) which makes him the tallest of the group, but he doesn't really care about it.

Enzo: He is 6'0 (1,83m) and is someone who will let everyone know how tall he is.

Blaise: He is the second tallest of the group at 6'1 (1,86m) and will use this to make fun of Draco all the time.

Draco: Is the shortest of the group at 5'9 (1,74m) and can be pretty salty about it.

What other languages do they speak?

Mattheo: He speaks fluent spanish and learned it from his mother. He also picked up some italian from Theo. Also speaks parseltongue but only told his friends about it.

Theo: Speaks fluent italian as his parents don't speak much english at home. Can also speak some broken spanish that he learned from Mattheo and some french that he tried to teach himself.

Enzo: He can speak fluent german and some french. His grandparents are german so he learned german from them and they live somewhere near the french border in germany, so he picked up some french as well.

Blaise: He speaks fluent french and is pretty good at latin. He probably knows bits and pieces from a lot of languages because he loves to learn and teach himself new things.

Draco: He is really good at latin even though he's self taught and he also tried to get Mattheo to teach him parseltongue.

Are they extroverted or introverted?

Mattheo: He's an ambivert and it strongly depends on his mood and what people are around him. When he's in the mood to party he loves it but he definitely needs time to himself to recharge. When he's in a bad mood it's better to leave him alone.

Theo: More introverted but really likes being around certain people. He hates everything that includes people he doesn't like or knows.

Enzo: He is the most extroverted out of the group and loves being surrounded by people. He gets a huge energy boost when the attention is on him, but once in a while he doesn't mind some time to himself either.

Blaise: The most introverted of the group. He likes being around his friends but that's about it. Parties or gatherings with people he doesn't like or know drain him and he needs at least a whole day to himself after.

Draco: Pretty much like Mattheo, it depends on the day and his mood.

What do they like? What are they into?

Mattheo: His favourite colours are maroon red and black. It pains him that red is Gryffindor's colour, but he also knows how good he looks in it. He's really likes creating art, especially sketching but he also likes to paint. He has his sketchbook on him pretty much all the time and spends most of his time in class doodling instead of taking notes. His fingers are stained with charcoal or paint colours most of the time. It helps him calm down and sort out his mind. He's also really into music and can be a little pretentious about it. He likes dad rock and indie music the most and his all time favourite band is the smiths. Another one of his hobbies is smoking. He knows it's a bad habit and if he actually wanted to stop he'd be able to, but he would need a reason for it other than his health.

Theo: His favourite colours are blue and green but only the dark shades. He likes muted colours and everything bright tends to give him a headache. His favourite thing to do is reading. He'd be into a variety of genres but around other's he likes to show off that he reads the classics. He's also into fantasy and sci-fi, but that's something he will read alone in his room. He also writes but keeps it to himself, like he tries to write poetry and I think he would keep a journal. He's a foodie as well, he loves all kinds of food and also likes to cook and try new things. When he's not on school he can often be found in the kitchen alongside his mother, copying down whatever recipes she teaches him. Also he's obsessed with olives. He's the biggest cigarette addict out of the group and also likes to indulge in a couple drinks pretty much every weekend. Like Mattheo, he's aware that it's a bad habit but he doesn't care about doing anything to change it.

Enzo: Favourite colour is green, specifically sage green. But he also likes anything bright and pastels and is just a colourful person in general. He likes to be active and is pretty sporty. He goes for runs on the Hogwarts grounds every morning and swims in the lake all the time to get his energy out. He's super hyper and needs to be moving at all times. He likes popular music and pretty much anything he can dance to, especially white girl anthems. But when he starts liking a less popular artist or band he also likes to gatekeep.

Blaise: His favourite colour is purple, magenta specifically but he also really likes grey. His favourite thing to do is studying (he's a nerd) and learning new things. History specifically is something he is super interested in and he will read actual text books for fun, making flashcards and taking notes and everything. Because of that he's a pro at trivia games though. Blaise is a sucker for romance. Romance books are one of his guilty pleasures and he will take that information to his grave. He's someone who would believe in soulmates and when he's into you, he'd go all out to get your attention and make you feel like the most special person in the world. He's also a coffee snob and very particular about how he likes it. He would make fun of his friends when they add syrups and sweeteners to their coffees. He also secretly really likes doing hair, especially Draco's but they hide it from the others. He would like classic rock and EDM and one of his guilty pleasures is listening to opera and musicals. He would be the friend to whip out the board games at every gathering.

Draco: His favourite colours are emerald green and black. Those are also pretty much the only colours he got to see at his family manor growing up. He likes to play chess and brags about how good he is at it. He is also completely obsessed with Quidditch and that obsession is fueled even more by Harry being better at it than him. He is secretly obsessed with sweets even though he's the one to call out his friends that it's unhealthy to stuff their faces with candy all the time. He has a secret stash beneath his bed. He would like calm music, maybe classical and anything piano heavy. Would probably also be into lofi. His main hobby, though, is bullying Harry.

What is their type in a partner?

Mattheo: He would be into someone feisty and and loyal. Mattheo is 100% loyal to the person he cares about and he expects the exact same from a partner. He also likes someone with a bit of spunk who can dish out as well as take it. I think there would be a lot of (affectionate) razzing with him and he needs someone who won't be offended by it and can match his energy. He likes his partner clingy. This boy is touch starved so once he is able to get physical contact he would crave it all the time. But he would also just like to be in your presence, even if you're not doing anything and just chilling next to each other. Wouldn't care much about appearance but would prefer someone shorter than him. Also someone who is calm and able to talk him down when he's having a moment.

Theo: Someone who's calm and smart. He's into the nerdy types and needs someone he can have deep and meaningful conversations with. Probably someone a little more talkative because sometimes he doesn't feel like talking himself and just wants to listen and enjoy the sound of his partner's voice. But also someone who's able to challenge him and keep him on his toes and calls him out on his bullshit. A sunshine type of person who can light up a room just by entering it and is able to get him out of bad moods, but also feisty and won't take shit from anyone. Also someone who is confident.

Enzo: He would like someone who's sweet and bubbly, easy to talk to and who gets along with pretty much everyone. Someone who can match his hyper energy and likes to keep moving. His partner needs to be up to try new things and go on random adventures. They need to be sponatneous and outgoing. But also a little competitive and able to challgenge him. He likes a tall partner and he's a boobs>ass guy.

Blaise: Someone smart and quiet who cares about their studies. He wouldn't be into someone who's favourite thing to do is party. He's looking for someone who's reliable, hardworking and responsible. I also think he'd be into more of a traditional type of relationship. He'd like someone he can spoil and that makes him feel needed. He likes curly hair and maybe goth types? Also someone who is quick witted and funny. -> special shoutout to the person who wrote "blond, annoying, ferret" for this question

Draco: Someone dainty and cute who's also able to call him out on his bullshit. He's looking for someone who's able to reassure him, who's able to communicate clearly and is absolutely honest with him. Preferably someone his parents approve off. But he also likes someone with a bit of a rebellish side to them, like the good girl who's secretly bad but just really good at not getting caught.

#slytherin boys headcanon game #slytherin boys #slytherin boys headcanons #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle headcanons #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott headcanons #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire headcanons #blaise zabini #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini headcanons #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy headcanons

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thetarttfuldickhead · 5 months

Text

It’s a little unclear, in the end, how the conversation gets there, because all in all the Richmond dressing room isn’t the site of that many sex jokes, not since Colin came out and no longer feels the need to make them. But they’re still lads, yeah, and young, mostly, so the jokes still happen, even if it’s just gentle ribbing, and silliness.

So: somehow, one morning halfway into Roy’s first year as head coach, the topic turns to sex, of the rougher variety. Roy’s only listening with half an ear, he’s busy sketching out the new trick plays Nate’s dreamed up on the whiteboard, and he doesn’t really catch the build-up, but when Jamie’s name is mentioned his ears perk up without him even really noticing. It’s become instinct at that point, keeping track of Jamie (even as Roy does his best to give all his players at least some semblance of equal attention).

“We know that Jamie likes it rough, though,” Zorro says, and the rest of the group oh:s and ah:s either knowingly or in surprised glee.

“Eh?” Jamie sounds startled by the assertion, but not particularly put off. (He never really is, as long as he gets attention, Roy thinks with an internal scoff that’s far fonder than he’d ever admit to.) “What makes you say that?”

“You told us!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Roy can see Jamie shake his head. “I don’t know what you’re on about, mate.” Still not bothered, but clearly not understanding what Zorro is getting at either.

Isaac throws him a disbelieving glance. “You don’t remember, bruv? It was when you first came here, before you started going out with Keeley.”

“Yeah,” Colin interjects, “You’d only been here for about two weeks, I think, but you came into training with these marks and bruises, and it turned out you’d hooked up with a girl the night before, but you hadn’t known she was a professional dominatrix before you got to her place.”

Hoots and titters at that, delighted and amused but not unkind.

“Exactly,” Zorro says. “And you told us you’d just gone with it because you have to try everything at least once, and it hadn’t been bad.”

Ah. Roy remembers now. He’d already been absolutely fed-up with Jamie’s attitude, the arrogance and selfishness and incessant need to put others down, and the striker’s total lack of shame and casual smugness about the marks had rubbed Roy entirely the wrong way. Not because people should be ashamed for liking that sort of stuff, of course (Roy wasn’t), but there was such a thing as common decency and unspoken rules about not parading around the dressing room like you were in a fucking porno or some shit and—

If Roy was honest about it, he’d mostly been pissed because it was Jamie, and everything Jaime did pissed him off back then (though, to be fair, most of what Jamie did back then was fucking shitty, so it’s not like Roy was wrong to be pissed. Most of the time).

“Oh.” Jamie’s voice is soft, suddenly. Small, in a way that has alarm bells going off like air raid sirens in Roy’s head. “Yeah. Um.”

The realisation hits Roy a second before it does the rest of the team, and his ears are already filling with a terrible ringing as the room falls silent behind him. He can feel himself grow rigid with rage, and with cold, curdling shame.

“Shit, man,” Isaac says eventually.

“Jamie, I’m so sorry.” It’s odd, the way Colin’s earnest, unhappy voice seems to be coming from so very far away.

“What?” Zorro, still not getting it, and then he does, and Roy, at a great distance, can hear his face crumpling. “Oh shit, Jamie, I didn’t mean—“

“No, don’t worry about it, man. It was a long time ago, yeah? It’s fine.” It’s a heroic attempt at sounding casual. Might have succeeded, too, back before they all knew Jamie as well as the do now.

Roy doesn’t stick around to hear the team offer their comfort and Jamie try to wave their concern away. He walks into the coaches’ office, and the only reason he doesn’t slam the door as hard as he can is because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.

“You all right there, Coach?” Beard looks up at him from behind his book, brow creased in quiet assessment.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Nate jumps down from the desk he’s been perched on. “Did someone die?”

And Roy wants to tell them to fuck off. Wants to punch the wall so hard it stops his mind from spinning. But he’s been talking with Dr. Fieldstone about that, hasn’t he, how his maladaptive coping strategies are tripping him up, and fucking over the people he cares about in the process.

So he takes a deep breath. And he doesn’t look at them when he starts talking. “Back before Ted came here Jamie came in with these bruises all over his chest and back one day, and he told us he’d had sex with a fucking dominatrix. And I believed him, okay? I just… I fucking believed him, even though it was weird fucking bruises for— That’s not the fucking point. But because I thought he was an arrogant fucking prick and I fucking hated his guts, I told him— “ He trails off, looking up at the ceiling. Uselessly, his cheeks are burning. Maybe his eyes are, too, if he’d let himself feel it. “I told him I’d be happy to pay to see someone give him a trashing. Give ‘em extra if they knocked a couple of his teeth out so he’d shut up for once.”

Beard doesn’t say anything, but he leans back in his chair with a look on his face that lets Roy know that, yeah, he’d fucked that one up good and proper.

“Oh,” Nate says. “So it was his dad who— That’s— But— I mean, that’s not good, obviously, that’s awful, but it’s… It wasn’t you who hurt him, Roy. And I mean, you and Jamie have said all sorts of thing to each other. Done all sorts of things.”

And that’s true, isn’t it. And mostly Roy is happy enough to write it off as tit-for-tat, old foolishness and bygones, Jamie a prick and Roy sometimes an idiot, and they’re both better now. And he doesn’t know how to explain to Nate and Beard how knowing that Jamie looked up to him ever since he was a kid, knowing that he never took that poster down, even after that, after everything, makes his casual cruelty and failure to protect Jamie all the harder to bear, even if he hadn’t known at the time that there was anything to protect Jamie from.

“Coach—“ Beard begins, but is interrupted by a knock on the door, and before Roy can tell whoever it is to fuck off, Jamie sticks his head into the office. Must have made his escape from the rest of the team, then. “Sorry, Coach, are we getting started or what? The lads— “ He catches sight of Roy’s face and his eyes widen. “Jesus, Roy, what happened? Are you all right, man?”

Under other circumstances, Roy might have found it remarkable how quickly and effortlessly Jamie makes the switch from Roy’s respectful star player to Roy’s friend, his entire demeanour changing as he moves into the room. As it is, Roy doesn’t say anything, but he must have made some sort of noise or moved some sort of way, because Jamie’s face twists in alarm, and then he’s across the floor and gently but firmly pulling Roy into a hug. “There, it’s all right, man, I’ve got you, lad, it’s all right.”

Roy blames all the fucking therapy he’d been doing for the past eight months for not pushing Jamie away but instead allowing the other to hold him, and allowing himself to hesitantly wrap his arms around him in turn. Fuck Nate. Fuck Beard. Fuck the team. Fuck anyone who thinks they get to have opinions on that.

He’s got an inch on Jamie, but Jamie’s broader, solid and strong. Steady, as he puts a hand on the back of Roy’s neck, murmuring nonsense that Roy knows is supposed to be soothing, and which maybe is. Mostly, it’s reassuring to have Jamie there, whole and hale and safe.

“What’s going on? Is Phoebe all right? Did something happen to your sister? Keeley?” Jamie is starting to sound a little freaked out, and Roy realises that he can’t just stand there mutely forever and let the fears grow in Jamie’s mind, he needs to fucking say something, explain.

He’d rather never say another word.

Tough fucking luck, Kent. “Do you remember what I told you when you said you’d had sex with a dominatrix?”

The way Jamie stiffens tells him that, yeah, Jamie does. “Roy—“

Roy tightens his grip, not wanting Jamie to pull away. “Don’t fucking tell me it was fine, because you were a nightmare for the rest of that day, you were absolutely fucking horrible to everyone.” Worse than usual, lashing out—not that Roy had known it at the time, or had thought it anything more than Jamie being a fucking prick for no other reason than to be a prick.

For a few moments, Jamie doesn’t say anything. Then he lets out a long sigh, relaxing into the embrace and pressing his face against Roy’s neck. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters, “it was all shit, mate. I mean, all of it was, it wasn’t just you— But, Roy, listen… “ And now Jamie does pull back, just enough so that he can look at Roy. His eyes are tired, but the set of his jaw determined. “You fucking hated me, right? Back then, I mean. You hated me, ‘cause I was a prick, and I hated you, ‘cause you were a bitter old cunt.”

There’s no fucking denying it, is there. Roy gives a sharp nod. “Yeah, but—“

“No, let me just— I’m not saying that makes it all right, yeah, I just— You hated me, okay. But, would you have said what you said if you’d known what really happened?”

Roy’s lips twist into snarl. “What? No! Of course I wouldn’t fucking have— “ He might have ached to put Jamie’s head through a wall several times a day, but he wouldn’t have stood by for Jamie’s piece of shit father—

“See?” The little twat has the audacity to look triumphant at that, as if he’d scored a particularly neat goal. “That’s what I’m saying, yeah? Even when you hated my guts, you wouldn’t have said that, if you’d known what was going on. But you didn’t know, ‘cause I didn’t want you to, or anyone to, and I’m an amazing actor, yeah? So, like, it’s not fine, but it’s… Don’t beat yourself up over it, man. You didn’t know.”

It’s absolution, the kind Roy doesn’t think he deserves and the Jamie is far too quick to offer. But Jamie is also right: Roy hadn’t known. Wallowing in guilt won’t do anything to change the past, or help Jamie now.

“All right,” Roy says. “But that was still a shit thing to say and I wish hadn’t done it. You never deserved any of what that arsehole did to you, and if… fuck it, when I made you feel like I thought otherwise, that was my fucking bad, and I’m sorry.”

Jamie nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, man.” And there’s a tremulousness to his faint smile that makes Roy think that for all his claims to the contrary, it had still been something Jamie needed to hear.

It does Roy’s fucking head in that Jamie’s been up to see his dad several times since he got word that James Tartt is in rehab. But they’ve argued about that already, bitterly, and Roy has very reluctantly admitted that it’s not his call. All he can do is offer Jamie whatever support he needs, whenever he wants it.

Clearing his throat, Roy gives Jaime an awkward pat on the shoulder before carefully extricating himself fully from the hug. “We’re still on for dinner with Keeley tonight?” He’ll make Jamie’s favourite dish, he decides. Throw in some dessert.

“Yeah, of course, yeah.”

“Good.” He jerks his head to the door. “Go on then, tell the lads to get on the pitch, and we’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, Coach.”

As the door shuts behind him, Roy turns on Beard and Nate who – wisely – don’t say anything.

“I don’t want to fucking talk about this,” he tells them sharply. “I don’t want you mentioning a fucking word of it ever again.” Because maybe he’s gotten to a point where having a fucking breakdown and hugging it out with Jamie in front of them isn’t the end of the world (even if it’s a near fucking thing), but if someone tries to make him discuss it, he’ll need to start head-butting people, and he’s been trying to stay off that since he became manager, because it just isn’t a good look, is it, and he’s trying to be better about that sort of thing.

Nate and Beard glance at each other. Roy doesn’t really care for the knowing look in their eyes, but they merely offer a nod and a yeah, yeah, of course, sure in reply, and that will have to do.

In this messed up world, a lot of things would have to fucking do.

“Right,” Roy says, already moving to follow Jamie. “I’ll see you on the fucking pitch.”

---

A/N: This was supposed to be the fourth of the stand alone ficlets I call The Locker Room Conversations, but it got quite a bit darker (and less team focused) than I usually do for those, so I’m not sure. I’ll sit on it for a bit, maybe fiddle a little, and see where I put it when it goes up on AO3 eventually.

If you like the idea of the team uncovering sad truths about Jamie’s past and are into heavier angst (and more of the team taking care of Jamie), I highly recommend checking out i should be the poster kid for this shit by anotherlongstoryshort / babytarttdoodoo

#well-intentioned ribbing lead to unhappy revelations #and references to earlier abuse #and roy having all the emotions about it #there’s also a very long hug because a girl’s gotta get her kicks somehow #james tartt sr is mentioned and his own warning #hurt/comfort #angst #roy kent #jamie tartt #roy & jamie #afc richmond #a team of himbos #who mean well even when they get it wrong #fic #my stuff

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thaliagracesgf · 4 months

Text

i hail a cab with a goat, and make some questionable decisions at a party

author’s note: i want to make it, like, really, really, clear that this is not a fic glorifying sa or being a victim. what the reader goes through here is a horrible experience, one that’s happened to me and countless other women (and other people!!). this fic is for anyone who, in the words of rachel sennot in bottoms, has been “gray-area-d,” and felt completely lost afterwards, not knowing how to feel or what to think. this is one example of how you deserved to have been treated, and i’m sorry if this or something similar wasn’t your experience.

content warnings: sexual assault (not graphic and not by luke! r is sort of tied down and has their shorts undone), violence (luke is not happy about this situation), alcohol (r is drunk), talking about it afterwards?, talking about monsters (on a regular pjo level), swearing.

word count: 6.6k. i had a lot to say. so sorry.

this is the first fic i have written in a while, i hope you enjoy it!

⭑

seven a.m. in the camp half-blood dining pavilion saw the same faces every morning. you, silena beauregard, clarisse larue, and annabeth chase. your little group of friends spanned six years, at seventeen, fourteen, thirteen, and eleven, and your best friend, who had been off at college all year, made it eight.

you didn’t remember becoming friends with silena and clarisse, although you figured hannah, your best friend and silena’s older half-sister, must have introduced you, and clarisse came along with her.

you had met annabeth and hannah when you were just thirteen, when you had followed a friend to connecticut in the middle of pre-algebra.

“do you understand any of this?” you whispered to grover. he gave you a look as if he had never seen a fraction before last week, and you sighed. your teacher, a kind old woman named ms. lucy, gave you a look. when she gave the class a new problem to work through, she came and knelt by your desk, looking over your shoulder at what you had managed so far. which was a whole lot of nothing, unless you included a sketch of grover that would make picasso proud. you shrunk sheepishly in your chair.

you looked to your right, as if trying to see how bad it really was compared to your model, but he was gone. you turned back to ms. lucy.

“did you see grover leave?”

“hmm?”

“grover. did he go to the bathroom?”

“i assume so, dear. if you convert the decimal—" but grover’s things were gone. you felt terrible. you knew you were a terrible student, and ms. lucy was so kind to you anyways, but it wasn’t like grover to walk out of class like that. he was terrified of authority.

“i have to go,” you mumbled to ms. lucy, throwing your things in your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “stomachache.”

she looked genuinely concerned. “would you like me to let the nurses know you’re coming?”

“no… no. that’s okay.” and you ran out the door.

it wasn’t too hard to find grover. he was sitting in an empty classroom just a few doors down, but what was weirder was that he was watching a video on the projector. weirder still, he was talking to it. you knew it was rude to eavesdrop. it didn’t stop you from doing it.

“chiron, i can’t just leave. she’s here, and she’s in danger. she needs a protector. anything could come for her at any moment—" was he talking about you?

a deep voice over the projector, whose face you could hardly make out through the low-quality image, answered: “i will inform her mother and she will go home. she will stay there until we can send gleeson to collect her and—"

“why can’t you send gleeson for these kids?”

“he’s too far, it would take him a day at least to reach them. i already told you, this was a request from hermes himself. he wants his son and his friends collected as soon as possible, and—"

who the hell was gleeson? and hermes… who names their kid after a greek god? at least choose one with a better name than hermes. it sounded like a disease. your mother had named your brother after some greek hero, but he didn’t go by it. and at least it was, like, a human name.

“he’s the god of travelers.” you were starting to worry that grover might be on drugs. what on earth had they put in those enchiladas at lunch? “can’t he get him, like, a car? a day could be too long for—"

“grover.” the voice boomed. that shut him up. “you will go. you will escort the son of hermes, the daughter of athena, and the daughter of zeus to camp, and then you may return to the city. this is not up for discussion.” you were really starting to think that the booming voice might have been two booming voices, but the door was closed and the audio was already crackly, so you decided it didn’t really matter.

you heard grover’s voice say, “alright,” defeated and almost mournful, and then the message cut off. your eyes widened as you realized that grover would probably step outside any second, and you would have no excuse as to what you were doing with your ear to the wall. you turned slowly, and winced as your shoe squeaked on the linoleum floor. you started speedwalking. no sense in trying to hide anymore, you were just interested in getting as far away as possible before-

“oh, gods.” grover’s voice echoed between cinder block walls and metal lockers. “how much did you hear?”

you turned, your fingers nervously twisting the straps of your backpack. “i mean. not everything. just. you know.”

“almost everything?”

“yeah.”

“this is not good. this is really not good.” grover wasn’t talking to you anymore. he was pacing the short ways of the corridor, head in his hands, muttering to himself. “my first mission and i’ve already messed it up completely.”

“how could you have messed it up completely? you haven’t even met these kids yet.”

“oh, gods,” grover groaned.

“woah, dude. are you like, hindu or something?”

“what?”

“you said gods. plural. i read this book—"

“okay,” grover interrupted. “you need to go home.”

“okay. that was rude. also, it’s like the middle of the day. my mom’s at work and my stepdad will kill me if i come home early.”

“your stepfather. perfect. just climb in the back window of your room, and when your mom gets home, tell her that chiron says you need to go to camp immediately.”

“what? what the hell are you talking about? who— is that who you were talking to on the phone?”

“what?”

“the phone call. the one you were mad at me for overhearing…”

“okay. first of all, that was not overhearing, that was eavesdropping. second of all, i’m not mad. this just complicates things slightly. third of all—"

“dude, you need to—" grover glared at me, and i shut up.

“third of all,” he repeated, “that wasn’t a phone call. it was an iris message.”

“a what?”

“nevermind. not important. ask about it at camp.”

“why do you keep talking about a camp? i haven’t been to camp since music camp in second grade, and they don’t want me back. i was really, really, bad at the recorder.”

“you played the recorder?” grover looked suddenly very interested. “nevermind. you need to go home.”

“dude. i’m telling you, i. can’t.”

“you have to—"

“take me to connecticut,” you suggested.

“what?”

“isn’t that where you’re running off to?”

“you can’t come to connecticut with me—"

“why not? you seemed pretty adamant on the phone—"

“iris message”

“that you needed to be with ‘her’. based on how insanely you have freaked out, i’m guessing that was me. so take me with you.”

“i know you have no idea what is going on right now—"

“thank you for finally acknowledging that important part of this conversation.”

“- but taking you to connecticut would be an astronomically bad idea. like i-would-get-fired kind of bad idea.”

“you’re twelve. how on earth would you get fired? child labor laws are—"

“i’m nineteen.”

you laughed at that one. “yeah, sure.”

grover rolled his eyes. “look, i really, really, wish i could explain more, but i need to go. and i really, really need you to go home.”

“ok.”

“like really, really need you to listen—" he paused. “okay? great!”

“if it means that much to you, i’ll go home.” grover sighed with relief.

he was eating his words. and a tin can he had picked up off the street. you had followed him out of the building, watched him call a cab, and then, at the last second, jumped in after him, slammed the door, and told the driver to drive before grover could figure out what was going on.

after your initial panic, when you realized you were hurtling up fifth avenue at three-hundred miles per hour with three old ladies behind the wheel, you had straightened yourself out, and made grover explain everything. he had, reluctantly, when he came to terms with the fact that you were in too deep to back out now.

he explained camp, the greek (not hindu) gods, and the ladies in the front (who had one eye between them) were very helpful about filling in the details. so, so many details. he explained that he didn’t know who your parent was, just that you were powerful, and that he was planning on asking your mom before everything went up in flames.

he explained that he was going to connecticut to escort three (now four) demigods to camp half-blood, and that they would likely be tailed by monsters the entire way back. four demigods as powerful as you, and one forbidden child — a child of zeus, poseidon, or hades, as he had mentioned — would attract a lot of attention.

and you did. it took you a month to get to camp after you found thalia, luke, and annabeth, constantly being thrown off course by monsters, over which you got to know them better than any friends you’d had in your life (with the exception of maybe grover and your little brother). your mother was worried sick, but you iris-messaged her (grover finally got through on that one) every so often, letting her know you were okay. she was surprisingly understanding about camp. she apologized that she hadn’t been the one to take you herself, and that she had been forced to hide the truth from you for so long. the calls always ended though, when she tried to tell you who your father was. the water would shut off suddenly, the rainbow disappearing along with your mother, so you learned to avoid the topic if you wanted to continue talking.

when thalia died, you were in shock. you sat at the edge of long island sound at camp for three days, staring into the ocean. you didn’t speak, even when you were claimed, as you sat, by your father, poseidon, and shuffled your things from the hermes cabin into cabin three. it was just another loss — you could no longer sleep in the bed next to luke’s. there were no familiar faces in cabin three — no faces at all. you were completely alone.

eventually, an older aphrodite girl came by the cabin. she introduced herself as hannah, and she showed you around camp, forced you to sit with her and her siblings at dinner, dealing with chiron and mr. d’s disgruntlement herself, and at the campfire. she dragged you to the center of the amphitheater, dancing slowly at first, and then faster, until you were laughing and finding luke and annabeth in the crowd and dragging them to dance as well.

you missed hannah so much. she wasn’t that far, a first year at barnard this fall, where you would hopefully be in a couple of years. you weren’t ready for college yet, you thought, so you would take a gap year (though you hadn’t been in school for years) and stay at camp, while chiron would help you convince the admissions committee (using the mist) that you had a perfect gpa, excellent extracurricular activities, and a stellar recommendation letter from a highly admired ancient greek scholar by the name of professor c. brunner.

sitting at breakfast with you was probably miserable, you could admit. you were counting down the days until hannah came back, and your friends were definitely tired of it. but for some reason, this morning silena was practically jumping up and down with something.

“will you stop?” you asked. “you’re shaking the entire table.”

“i can’t, i’m sorry.” she seemed sincere in her apology. “i just— oh, you’ll see.”

you didn’t see, in fact, as someone jumped out from behind you and wrapped their arms around your head, their sweatshirt covering your eyes. “who—" you started, before you got a whiff of lavender-vanilla perfume and jumped up from the table.

hannah. you shrieked, probably waking up half the camp. you spun around and tackled her to the ground, hugging her so tightly you would probably cut off her circulation.

she pushed you off, laughing, and got to her feet. “it’s good to see you too, babe. what’s up with all of you? you never call, i feel like i’ve been completely cut off.” (you had iris-messaged her last week for five hours).

“your sister is still absolutely obsessed with beckendorf,” you said, sitting down.

“hey!” silena protested.

“but of course he has no idea that he likes her.” silena turned pink. “no one here is good enough for annabeth, obviously—"

“i never said that, clarisse doesn’t let any boys near me.” you stick your tongue out at her.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” clarisse said, feigning obliviousness. “you hang out with luke all the time.”

“he’s always hanging out with that new kid.” she grumbled. “or—"

“speaking of, clarisse definitely thinks this hermes boy is so cute— you haven’t met him, he got here a few months ago, but his name is chris, and i think they would be so cute together. she’s out of everyone’s league, obviously, but if anyone would be good for her—"

“gods, you would think you’re the aphrodite kid, listening to you.” hannah smiled. she stole a bite of your french toast.

“i’m just excited to see you,” you said, laying your head on her shoulder. silena and clarisse smirked.

“she’s leaving somebody out here,” silena said, smiling.

“i know, it’s weird, she never shuts up about him otherwise,” clarisse added, narrowing her eyes at you teasingly.

“oh, who could you possibly be talking about?” hannah twirled a piece of hair. she hasn’t even been here, but one doesn’t forget their best friend’s crush of four years in a few months.

“i do not,” you protested meekly.

“you knew who we were talking about, though”

“i spend a lot of time with him, that’s all. there would be a gaping hole if i told you about my day and didn’t bring him up.”

“would you stop pretending as if you aren’t in love with each other, please?” annabeth interrupted. “you’re worse than them, at least they can admit it.” she gestured at clarisse and silena.

“i am not in love with him, annabeth.”

“you’re always starting at him.”

“i’m in conversation.”

“with your eyes. that is literally textbook romance.”

“i could so admit if i was into him,” you say, cutting her off. “i admit things like that all the time. i told you i thought jack was cute. you know that kid from demeter?”

“we all know you made that up,” annabeth said, crossing her arms over her chest. silena gave her a light push.

“don’t be so quick to accuse, annie.” only you and silena ever called her that. “i don’t think she made it up. i just don’t think she’s as into him as she is into him.”

“would you drop it, about luke, please?”

“hey, you said his name, not me,” silena smiled. “but sure. i don’t believe that you’re not into him, but i’ll drop it if you can prove that he isn’t into you.”

your heart sank. you weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt nauseous at the thought. hannah’s hand rested on your knee, as if she could sense it.

“how am i supposed to do that? i can’t read minds.”

“hook up with jack at the campfire.”

“what?”

“flirt with him! you were just talking the other day about how you’re eighteen and you haven’t even had sex yet.” hannah covered annabeth’s ears, to which she shoved her off and glared. “jack’s, like, really hot. i saw you staring the other day.”

“when luke wasn’t around,” annabeth added, one eyebrow raised.

“you want me to have sex with jack?”

“i’m not saying that. just flirt with him. see what happens. we’ll— she gestured between herself, clarisse, annabeth and hannah— see how luke is doing.”

“okay, he isn’t going to be doing anything,” you said. “i don’t see what this accomplishes.” but even as you were saying it, your mind betrayed you. you thought for a second and conjured an image of strong arms holding you, soft lips kissing yours with the bonfire light in the background. maybe you were near the beach.

“we’ll see,” silena smiled.

you didn’t want to go all the way, or anything. you knew that. but… jack was really hot. and sweet. he was always catching little kids falling off of obstacle courses with soft bushes, and growing them flower crowns. it couldn’t hurt to talk to him, see what happened. maybe he’d ask you out, or something. bring you flowers on a date. and you guessed you wouldn’t mind making out with him.

the campfire roared in the middle of the amphitheater. the only people there were the older campers, and some counselors trickling back in from tucking kids into bed. you had helped luke with the hermes cabin, because he had so many kids to take care of, and you had none.

you pulled the covers over katie, a girl a little younger than annabeth, who had gotten to camp a few months ago. she was still unclaimed, but with the way she spent all day in the strawberry fields, and the plants tended to shoot up around her, you were fairly sure where she belonged.

you kissed the top of her head, and stood up, looking around the dark cabin for luke, seeing him kneeling beside a little boy, probably about the same age as katie. the boy sounded like he was crying.

“hey, connor,” luke whispered, rubbing circles on the kid’s back. “it’s okay. it’s okay. i get them too.” you realized that the boy must have been afraid to fall asleep. “travis is right above you, he’ll protect you, okay? nothing bad can happen to you here.”

he looked over at you, before turning back to connor. “and we can play poker tomorrow, you’re getting pretty good.”

“are you leaving?” the boy whispered, choking a bit on his tears.

“just for a little bit, kid. i’ll be back soon, i promise. i’ll be here when you wake up. i’m not going to leave you anytime soon.”

“okay,” the boy mumbled. luke pulled the covers over his shoulders, and ruffled his hair before turning to you.

“let’s go,” he mouthed, gesturing at the door. the two of you crept outside, luke much more stealthily than you, closing the door silently. “god of thieves,” he shrugged, but he didn’t grin as he usually did when he bragged. you didn’t have to ask why, but you played along.

“yeah, yeah, i know,” you said, rolling your eyes. “can we go now?”

“yeah, ‘course,” he said. he slung his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into him as you walked, and you couldn’t help but think of silena’s words as you rested your head on his chest.

arriving back at the campfire, you pulled yourself away from luke, walking over to hannah. she smirked at you, pulling you in for a hug.

“you don’t have to do this, you know,” she said.

“i know,” you replied. “i want to. he’s cute.”

and he was, you thought, as he led you away from the campfire. you’d sat for an hour, letting the flames dance over your skin as you talked with him. he made you laugh, even blush when he grew a flower out of the stone to tuck behind your ear. when he grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet, you felt dizzy, though that might have been the alcohol.

as you walked further away from the amphitheater, you spun around in the grass, laughing, and he laughed with you. or at you? you couldn’t really tell, and you didn’t really care. you just wanted to kiss him. you didn’t notice that you weren’t heading near the cabins until he stopped in a little cove at the edge of the forest.

“why are we here?” you asked, a little dazed.

“come on,” he said. “you know why.”

and then he was kissing you. it was messy, and made you kind of uncomfortable, but you told yourself to get over it. you couldn’t expect it to live up to the time luke had kissed you, on a dare, when you were thirteen. nothing would ever live up to that, because you couldn’t have him. he hadn’t even cared when you had left him at the party, talking up some girl you couldn’t really see on the other side of the fire.

you blinked, pulling away from jack. you hadn’t realized as you were thinking it, but you had admitted to yourself for the first time that yes: you did want luke. really, really, wanted him. you pushed back on jack lightly.

“i’m sorry, i don’t think i can do this right now,” you mumbled, wiping your mouth on the sleeve of your hoodie — luke’s hoodie, that he had given you that night after he kissed you, when you were shivering outside, staring into space because you couldn’t understand what you were feeling.

“come on, it’s fine,” jack replied, pulling you back into his arms. they weren’t like the arms you were picturing earlier. no, you could admit to yourself new that those had been luke’s. your mind was reeling— you knew that you couldn’t have him, that he would never like you like you liked him, but kissing jack felt wrong. not that you had really been kissing him back.

“i want to go home,” you said, and you weren’t sure where you meant. back to the campfire, to luke and hannah, back to your cabin? maybe even back to your mom on the upper east side, who you missed every day but couldn’t live with during the year for the sake of your little brother, who was too young to know that he, too, was a son of poseidon.

“really? you were flirting with me all night,” jack mumbled into your lips. “stay a little longer.” it was true, you had been flirting with him. you figured you could at least make out with him for a bit. you resigned, letting him lower you onto the grass, and reluctantly letting him run his hands along the hem of your shirt.

hannah was getting worried, and luke could tell. he had forced himself off when you were clearly interested in that demeter guy, who luke knew and was friends with but suddenly hated with all his guts. he had forced himself to be interested in getting the details on silena and beckendorf, which he didn’t really realize he was getting to share with you later, resigning to glancing too often through the flames of the fire at your face, and the way the flames made you look like a goddess. no, he thought. you always looked like a goddess.

but hannah, who had just arrived back at camp for the summer that morning, was biting her lip, and looking around with a bothered expression on her face, and luke had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, that he needed to know you were safe immediately.

he walked over to hannah, probably too quickly, and didn’t waste time asking how she was, or how college had been. “where is she?” he demanded, too forcefully. he would have to apologize to hannah later, but he only had one thing on his mind.“what’s wrong?”

“oh. hey, luke,” she said, still in a sort of trance. he snapped his finger away from her face, shaking his head.

“hannah? where is she?”

she shook her head and widened her eyes. it was clear to luke that you had picked up that habit of staring out at nothing when you were deep in thought, usually not about pleasant things. “she’s with jack,” she said. “they left a little while ago. i just… i don’t know. i should go check that she’s back at her cabin by now.”

“yeah, yeah we should,” luke grumbled, and started taking the steps out of the theater two at a time in an effort to get out. hannah followed— you had told him that his stress could be contagious.

you weren’t in your cabin. you weren’t in the demeter cabin either, and the pair of them woke up a bunch of kids as you barged in, which he was sure mr. d would have a lot to say about in the morning, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

he ran across the basketball court, hannah close behind.

“i have an idea of where they might be,” hannah said, pointing in the direction of the woods.

“how do you know?”

“because i showed jack that spot when we were fourteen,” she said, grumbling. luke clearly wasn’t the only one who cared about you.

“i thought you were gay?” luke questioned, not slowing down.

“yeah. like i said, fourteen. people explore things, figure themselves out.” gods, she thought, men could be so incredibly stupid.

they ran faster than ever to the edge of the woods, where sure enough, they found you, lying on a mossy stone with jack hovering over you. luke wanted to run to you immediately, but hannah held him back — no easy feat, but she managed.

“hold on, romeo,” she strained. “you can’t just barge in there and—” then she heard it— the unmistakable sound of your voice, and the word stop.

“jack…” you mumbled. you were so drunk. you weren’t sure where you were anymore, and you didn’t really remember walking over here, though you knew you had. “jack, we can do this later, i’m tired—”

“you’re fine, it’s fine,” he said quietly, starting to undo the zipper of your shorts. you reached down to stop him, but he pushed your hand away, and as it hit the stone, moss started growing over it, holding it there.

“jack, stop it,” you said, more forcefully this time. you realized that he didn’t even know what he was doing, and for some reason that scared you more. he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but he wanted it— he wanted you held down, and he didn’t care that you didn’t.

he shushed you, but looked up at a rustling in the trees, and a familiar grunt.

luke broke out of hannah’s arms, but it didn’t really matter, because she had been letting him go anyways. he stormed across the clearing, and while you were still dazed and confused, you couldn’t miss the entirety of jack’s weight being ripped from on top of you, and you thought you saw a fist collide with his face.

hannah, however, rushed to your side. she didn’t particularly want to see luke end up bloody and beaten in the infirmary, but she had bigger fish to fry right now: namely, you. she tore up the moss, no longer strong as jack’s focus was elsewhere, and redid your shorts for you. there were tears on your face as she pulled you to your feet.

there was so much noise. jack was shouting at luke, but you couldn’t make out the words. you could hear the music and the gleeful sounds of counselors from the amphitheater, but it seemed worlds away from you.

as hannah led you out of the woods, much faster than you could really manage, your head began to pound behind your eyes. a splitting pain hit your forehead, and your vision went black and spotty. you stumbled forward, relying entirely on hannah to keep you upright, but one stray tree root took you down. you swam between consciousness and a dark, dark sleep. there was screaming, it was hannah, and then the familiar deep voice of clarisse, barking orders. you thought you heard annabeth’s name, and then two strong sets of arms lifting you up, and carrying you away.

you woke up at the bottom of the sea. no. that wasn’t right. the bottom of the sea was soft, covered in mud and sand. you tried to stretch your body, hitting plastic walls. as your eyes focused, you could make out cartoon fish swimming entirely too close to your face, and you sat up with a start, splashing water all over a corner of the infirmary.

a kiddie pool. they had filled a kiddie pool with salt water, and left you in it overnight to soak, like one of those colorful dinosaur toys that grew in water. and the worst part was that it seemed to have worked. you felt brand new, like you had slept for a hundred years, and at the same time followed a very strict workout regimen, taken a juice cleanse and eaten like a king. you groaned, and slipped back under the water.

you stared at the ceiling, watching wooden beams ripple with the surface of your personal ocean. you wondered if your father ever felt like this is in the pacific, if he could be that big if he wanted to. your camp necklace floated up before your face, crossing a familiar face lurking over you.

you sat up. cara fletcher, hannah’s friend, held out some nectar. you shook your head.

“i’m okay.”

she raised an eyebrow.

“fine,” you sighed, taking the flask and drinking. it did help. you felt like you could take on the minotaur.

“your friends were here all night,” she said. i kicked them out around ten because they were falling asleep on each other, and i didn’t need any more cracked skulls when they fell off the stools.

“more?” you asked. she sighed, looking over her shoulder.

“your boyfriend beat that kid up pretty bad last night,” she said. you didn’t see jack lying on any of the cots, but a head of dark curls lay a few beds down, and the body attached to it did not look to be in great shape.

“he’s not my boyfriend.” you answered quickly, not taking your eyes off of luke. “is he okay?”

cara seemed to make out which he’s you were referring to. “i wasn’t talking about him,” she said. “hannah told me what happened. if you ask me, luke didn’t do nearly enough damage.”

“don’t tell him that,” you said. “and he’s also not my boyfriend,” you added as you processed her words fully.

“not yet, he’s not.” hannah said, strolling in with three bagels in hand.

“i thought i told you to go to bed,” cara scolded, taking her bagel. “you’re going to drop dead one of these days.” hannah smiled, ignoring her as he sat down next to her and put her arm around her shoulders.

you glance between them, ideas churning in your mind, but they were quickly interrupted by the bagel being shoved in your face. you had always thought that the harpies must have spent some time in the city— they made a dam good bagel.

“so.” hannah started. “you are going to tell us everything you’re thinking right now, because i see you looking over at him every two seconds, and don’t think you’re getting out of any of it.”

“i’m eating,” you grumbled. hannah reached to snatch the bagel away, but cara swatted her hand back.

“she’s recovering.” you stuck your tongue out at hannah.

“i don’t care,” hannah said. “spill.”

“look, i don’t even know what happened last night—”

“because you were really, really, drunk,” she interrupted.

“do you want me to speak or not?” you demanded.

“okay. fine. but just so you’re aware, he swooped in and defended you, and beat the shit out of that little asshole, who, just between us, mr. d is fucking fuming with.” trust hannah to get distracted two seconds in. demigod adhd was no joke. “he dragged him to the big house this morning himself, severe concussion and all, and according to lee, chewed him out for about an hour. something about the sanctity of drunkenness and how it is not to be weaponized… even chiron was surprised.” she paused for breath.

“anyways, the point stands— he,” she nodded her head at luke, “was quite literally your knight in shining armor, and if you still don’t think he is absolutely enamored with you—” and you were pretty sure you heard a cot creak— “then i swear on my mother i will call her down and force her to do something about this because i cannot take it any longer.”

“he was just being a good person, hannah,” you muttered. “he’s just like that.”

hannah looked as though she were about to scream, but cara rubbed her hand along her thigh, calming her before she spoke herself.

“there’s something more than that, isn’t there?” she asked softly, and you thought she was staring directly into your soul. “there’s a reason you don’t think he likes you.”

you hesitated, splashing the water around in your pool and making eye contact with a cartoon fish as you worked up the courage to say what it was you knew you had to get off your chest.

“before last night,” you started, your voice cracking as you spoke, “it was just me thinking i wasn’t pretty enough, or good enough for him. that he wouldn’t look at me because there are so many other girls at this camp who are obsessed with him. and i don't think i realized that i liked him either. but now…” a sob came from the back of your throat, and you looked up at hannah, tears streaking your red face.

“why would he want me now?” you sobbed.

“hey. stop that,” hannah started. “what jack did to you wasn’t your fault, and everyone knows that.” she was trying to make you feel better, but the news that your pathetic love life was the talk of camp wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“it was, though,” you said quietly. “i led him on. i never told him no that strongly, and i was flirting with him all night. what reason did he have not to think… not to…” you were hyperventilating now, your words coming out in broken syllables.

“i’m a fucking slut, and now everyone knows it,” you managed. you sank back into the water to slow your breathing, but tears still streamed down your face.

“that’s bullshit,” came a voice from elsewhere in the infirmary. you could have thrown up then and there. you pulled yourself up by the walls of the kiddie pool, looking down the aisle as luke castellan limped towards you. his scarred eye was bruised and bloodshot, and he had a massive scrape running up his left arm, and that was just what you could see. the tears began to fall faster.

“luke…”

you were thirteen years old again, at the top of half-blood hill, holding grover upright. you were watching desperately as he stumbled upward, through the pouring rain, carrying a screaming little girl who was trying with all her might to run back and help her friend. all four of you were sobbing, exhausted and beaten. seeing them all like that was ten times more painful than the gash in your side.

“that’s bullshit,” luke repeated. you got up from the pool and held his face in your hand, inspecting the bruise. you took the rest of the nectar cara had given you, holding it to his lips, but he pushed it away. “you’re not a slut,” he said. suddenly everything about your conversation came rushing back to you, and it hit you that you had just admitted to him that you were in love with him.

you turned your head. hannah and cara were gone, slipped out the back door. you turned back to face luke, face red and tears pouring over your skin.

“that wasn’t your fault. you didn’t owe him anything. he‘s disgusting, and deserves to have his fucking dick cut off.” you laugh, despite everything.

“i think mr. d may have actually taken care of that,” you whispered.

“good.” you looked at him for a while. his eyes were so beautiful, a deep, deep, brown that reminds you of the otters that hung mysteriously around your upper east side apartment when you lived in the city.

“why did you have to fight him?” you asked, reaching up to his face again.

“you were in trouble,” he said.

“luke.” the tears were threatening to fall again. “you could have seriously hurt yourself. i just… why? why not just pull him off of me?” you needed an answer. you needed to know why, why on earth he had put so much of himself in front of you, in front of jack’s fists.

he looked down at you, a pained expression on his face. “you know why,” he whispered.

he looked down at your lips, and you shook your head softly. you looked down at your feet. you were so afraid, afraid that he wouldn’t be interested now that you didn’t want… that. from him. yet— that you considered looking up and letting him kiss you.

he shocked you when he wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him, holding the back of your head into the space between his chest and his shoulder.

“okay,” he whispered. “that’s okay.” then, softer. “i love you.”

you couldn’t say it back. not yet, not now. but you held him tighter, holding on to him like he was the only thing stopping you from falling into tartarus.

“i’ll be here forever,” he spoke into your hair. and you believed him.

the hermes cabin hosted a movie night that night. you were watching the incredibles two, at a request from connor stoll, who was currently involved in an intense argument with annabeth over which installment was better.

“i think i’m going to start calling you that,” luke whispered in your ear. “jack-jack.” you glared at him. “‘cause, you know, your last name’s jackson-”

“yeah, dude, i got the joke,” you said. you rolled your eyes, nuzzling your head into his chest. you could stay like this for a while, you thought, and as you closed your eyes, you felt him press a kiss to your head — something you had told him was okay. you couldn’t wait to bring him home for a weekend. maybe annabeth, too. you couldn’t help but think she would get along great with your brother.

⭑

a/n: hello loves! i hope you enjoyed this, please please leave any feedback or anything, and let me know if you would like me to continue this story/write more of luke and the reader's past. i hope people enjoyed the little hints at percy! so excited for this reader and to explore all her relationships.

#pjo x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst #luke pjo #percy series

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 year

Text

Garden of Secrets [24] - Geraniums

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Inspiration can strike at midnight.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions and descriptions of domestic violence, injuries and trauma.

Word Count: 3400

Series Masterlist

Playing the madly in love couple in public had never been challenging so far, so it was quite surprising that the mask was slipping.

You had a feeling that it was mostly because of you though.

For the past week, you had managed to keep your interaction with Benedict to a minimum even though it felt incredibly hard. Whenever you saw him in the hallway or you two went to your separate rooms, you were filled with this powerful urge to talk to him, but after that duel you weren’t so sure you could.

Though, there was no denying it. You missed him terribly.

Benedict on the other hand was respecting your wishes and giving you the space you wanted. Though you two pretended as if nothing was wrong in public, the usual displays of affection were not there, no doubt because he didn’t want to cross the line you drew between you two.

“Are you sure everything is alright?” Felix asked you while he sketched beside you under the tree you were leaning your back against. Charlotte had asked both you and Benedict to join her on a picnic but Anthony had spent no time to whisk her away, and Benedict was busy talking with his artist friends so you had excused yourself to read a book in the shadow of a tree, Felix soon joining you to sketch the view in a peaceful corner.

“Absolutely,” you said. “Why do you ask?”

Felix shrugged before tilting his head. “Is that your brother-in-law?”

You turned your head, then raised a hand in the air so that Andrew could see you, a smile lighting up his face immediately.

“This is a lovely surprise,” he said as he threw himself next to you. “Clover. Felix.”

“Andrew,” Felix said with a smile and you held back a grin upon hearing the first name basis.

“What are you doing here?” you asked and he motioned at the entrance of the park.

“Oh I had this business with an incredibly boring lord about—it doesn’t matter,” he said. “How about you? Is Jo around as well?”

“Mm hm, she and Bess decided to take a walk around the park,” you said and he grinned.

“They do love their walks.”

You shot him a mischievous glance and he looked inside the picnic basket.

“No cookies this time?”

“My reaction exactly,” Felix said and Andrew tut-tutted.

“You play with our feelings, Y/N.”

“I’m just sitting here doing nothing,” you deadpanned, turning your gaze to Benedict at the moment he stole a glance at you, and you both looked elsewhere at the same time. Felix raised his brows and Andrew looked between you.

“Oh something happened.”

“That’s what I said!”

“Nothing happened, you both are being nonsense—” you started but got distracted the moment your looked at Benedict again who was just approached by Lady Margery. That bitter taste climbed up your throat as you gritted your teeth, but then forced yourself to turn back to your book.

“Oh it’s a jealousy issue,” Andrew pointed out and turned to Felix while your eyes widened. “That settles it.”

“It’s not a jealousy issue!”

“Of Lady Margery?” Felix asked Andrew who nodded solemnly.

“Seems like it, is that her name?”

“I’m sitting right here,” you grumbled, turning to glare at Andrew who rolled his eyes at you.

“You were a scrawny little thing when I first met you, that glare doesn’t work on me.”

“You might be the only person in the ton who doesn’t get intimidated by her.” Felix pointed out and Andrew chuckled.

“I built up an immunity.”

“Great, I’m still waiting for that day.”

“Oh you need to put in years before that happens.”

You shook your head slightly and kept your gaze on the book.

“Who is Lady Margery?” Andrew asked Felix who took a deep breath.

“She’s a very wealthy widow,” he said. “A lover of arts and the last I heard, she likes Benedict’s works.”

“Where did she see his works?” You couldn’t help but ask and Felix shrugged.

“At a party, I’m told,” he said. “Either that or Henry showed her.”

“Benedict is in love with you though, don’t feel threatened.”

“I do not feel threatened by her,” you deadpanned, still trying to ignore that burning in your throat. “A lot of people admire Benedict’s works.”

“Not all of them look like that though,” Andrew mused and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Not as pretty as you, obviously!”

You huffed out and closed your book as soon as you caught the sight of Josie and Bess. “I’ll get some fresh air.”

“We’re sitting outside, Y/N.”

“Fine, then I’ll go and join Bess and Josie,” you said. “They’re over there.”

“Clover—”

“I’m fine,” you said as you stood up, painfully aware of Benedict’s gaze immediately turning to you. “Really. I just need to stretch my legs, I’ve been sitting here for way too long.”

You walked away from them, ignoring the way Benedict’s eyes were following you as you passed through the garden to make your way to Bess and Josie.

The dinner was quiet at first and you weren’t particularly hungry, so you kept playing with the food on your plate, pushing at it with your fork, trying your hardest not to look at Benedict even if you could feel him stealing looks at you.

He took a deep breath when you pushed at your plate, ready to retrieve to your bedroom but before you could stand up, he cleared his throat.

“Y/N?”

You looked up at him. “Hm?”

“I was going to tell you,” he said. “My mother invited us for dinner this weekend.”

“Oh?” you said. “Sure. What brought that on?”

He grimaced, making you bite back a smile.

“She wants the family to have dinner with Charlie’s family,” he muttered. “Which would have been fine if it were for any reason other than…you know.”

“Lottie and Anthony courting?”

He let out a noise of discontent and nodded his head. “That.”

“Will you be alright?” you asked. “During that dinner?”

He thought for a moment.

“…Uh huh.”

You raised your brows. “Very convincing.”

“It’s just—” he motioned with his hand. “Charlie and him?”

“It’s been almost a week since they started courting each other, how are you still so shocked about this?”

“Neither of them told me.”

“I wonder how that feels,” you pointed out and he scrunched up his nose, making you bite down on your lip.

“Walked right into that one.”

“Kind of like walking into a duel,” you mused and he nodded.

“Mm hm, kind of like that,” he said and his head shot up. “Which reminds me, I have something for you.”

You pulled your brows together in confusion.

“What?” you asked as he got up from his chair to come closer to you, then pulled the chair near you to sit down. He reached into the inner pocket of his waistcoat, then pulled out a tiny bag to put it on the table, making your frown deeper.

“What is this?”

“It’s a gift,” he said, crossing his arms over the table so that you would see he wouldn’t pull the gift out of your reach. “Along with my heartfelt apologies and promise to not keep things from you.”

You stole a look at him, then slowly reached out to take the small bag. You untied it and turned it over, then blinked a couple of times when you saw the tiny seeds falling into your palm.

“Benedict—?”

“Geranium seeds,” Benedict said. “I figured maybe you’d want to plant them.”

Your eyes found his, your heart skipping a beat.

“And I’ve been told geraniums represent foolishness,” he added with a small grin. “Considering my actions of late…”

A small giggle escaped from your lips and you ran your fingertip over the seeds.

“But I haven’t been gardening lately.”

“I know,” he said. “They can grow in a vase as well, did you know that?”

Your jaw dropped, a laughter climbing up your throat.

“Wow, really?”

“Mm hm,” he said, that proud smile playing on his lips before his gaze turned soft. “So until you want to put it in the garden, it can be in your room in a vase. If that’ll be more comfortable for you.”

He was giving you a way to garden and making sure you knew he couldn’t take it from you.

That familiar warmth spread through your chest as you put the seeds back into the small bag, and carefully tied it up before turning to look at him.

“Thank you,” you managed to say, “Really, Benedict. It means a lot.”

He shot you that lopsided grin and you held up your pinky.

“Truce?”

He raised his brows, then hooked his pinky with yours.

“Truce,” he said, tugging at your finger with his before pulling his hand back. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Who told you where to get geranium seeds?”

“Lady Margery,” he said, making you raise your brows but he looked nearly oblivious to your reaction. “You two have a lot in common, she likes flowers as well. She was telling me about it today—she also has a garden, apparently. Invited us for dinner whenever we’re available.”

“Did she now?” you asked, trying to ignore that bitterness in your throat. “Interesting.”

“You would get along well with her I think.”

“I doubt that,” you murmured and he tilted his head.

“Why?”

“Just a feeling,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, and cleared your throat. “Speaking of gardens, I think I want to take a walk in ours and get some fresh air before bed.”

“Oh,” he said. “Alright. Do you—?”

You shook your head and pushed your chair back to stand up. “No worries. I’ll just walk around, that’s all. It’ll help me sleep better.”

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll see you later then?”

“Mm hm, enjoy your meal!” you said and walked out of the dining room, still holding the small bag tight in your hand, a smile curling your lips once again.

The interesting thing about your nightmares was that they had changed quite a bit after you had found out that Benedict had gone on a duel. Contrary to before, now your night terrors were about his death, getting shot in the duel, bleeding out in that field—

A gasp got caught in your throat as your eyes snapped open into the dark room, and you blinked a couple of times before wiping up the cold sweat off your forehead, realizing just how freezing the room was. Contrary to the pleasant weather from earlier, the warmth was replaced by the cold as soon as the night fell, and not only you had told the maids they didn’t have to start a fire in the fireplace, you had also left the window open as you went to bed.

You pushed the covers off of you and got up from the bed, now realizing you had no idea where the matches were because you hadn’t had to do anything related to fireplace ever since you had moved into this house. The familiar ache in your wrist that came back whenever it was cold made you grimace and you closed the window, rubbing at your arms. You thought for a moment, then walked to the door to peek your head out, the faint light at the end of the hallway catching your attention immediately.

Benedict’s studio.

Well, that room had to be warm.

You lingered at your doorstep only for a moment before you left your room, then made your way down the hallway to reach the studio to find Benedict sketching by the fireplace. Your heart skipped a beat at how effortlessly handsome he looked, and you knocked on the doorframe, making his head shoot up.

“Y/N?”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all, come in,” he said, motioning at the other armchair across from the fireplace and you smiled at him, then sat down on the armchair.

“Nightmares again?”

You stole a look at him, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Just cold,” you said, holding out your wrist so that you could feel the warmth of the flames in the fireplace just so that the throbbing would ease a little. Benedict’s gaze fell on you as you turned your wrist, clenching and unclenching your hands. “What are you drawing?”

“Hm? Oh—” Benedict snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at the sketchbook before looking up at you. “Just some practice, that’s all.”

“Can I see it?”

He thought for a moment, then made a face. “You don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s you.”

You raised your brows, your stomach doing a happy flip.

“The sketch?”

He nodded his head and you arched a brow.

“I don’t want to see it or you don’t want me to want to see it?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not sure it’s good.”

“Can I be the judge of that?”

“Will you spare my feelings?”

“Absolutely, because I walk around sparing people’s feelings,�� you retorted, holding out your hand. “Come on.”

He heaved a sigh, then handed you the sketchbook, making you giggle before you turned your gaze to the page.

Oh.

The sketch was so beautiful that for a moment you couldn’t help but stare at it, your mouth slightly open. It was a sketch of you from today, when you were sitting under the tree with a book in your lap, surrounded by beautiful flowers-

When you thought he was busy with Lady Margery.

Benedict’s voice pulled you out of your daze; “It’s that terrible huh?”

You looked up at him in disbelief, then shook your head.

“I was thinking the opposite actually,” you managed to say, turning your glances to the page again. “It’s just…”

“Tell me,” he said when you fell quiet and you licked your lips, then shook your head again.

“You drew me prettier than I actually am,” you mumbled, still admiring the sketch in front of you but you saw him tilt his head out of the corner of your eye.

“What?”

You shot him a small smile, then handed him the sketchbook back.

“It’s beautiful,” you said. “Too beautiful.”

Benedict let out a small chuckle, his gaze soft on you.

“Nothing I draw or paint comes close to how beautiful you are, you do realize that?” he asked, a fire spreading on your face. “That’s why I keep thinking it’s not good enough. It’s nowhere near a reflection, merely a shadow.”

It felt as if your heart was trying to escape from your ribcage with how fast it was beating and you felt a smile warm your face, then shot him a look.

“Well then I’m afraid I have no criticism for you,” you said, making him clutch at his chest.

“Oh no.”

“Mm hm,” you said. “Just what every artist hates. No criticism, only admiration.”

“You have no idea,” he played along and you giggled, holding your wrist closer to the fireplace again to feel the warmth on your skin, even in your bones. He watched you in silence for a couple of seconds, then took a deep breath.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not normally but cold makes it ache,” you said. “It should go away soon.”

“How did you break it?”

Your stomach did a painful flip and you bit inside your cheek, pursing your lips.

“That’s not important information,” you said, your voice completely flat and he paused for a moment, then nodded.

“Still don’t trust me huh?” he said with a small smile as you pulled your gaze off the fire to steal a look at him.

“Benedict—”

“It’s alright,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

A silence fell upon you both and you could feel the nervousness filling your system, but you managed to ignore it as you cleared your throat.

“It wasn’t…” you trailed off. “Peaceful. Back home, before my uncle took me in.”

He pulled his brows together in confusion as if he couldn’t understand how it was relevant and you turned your wrist again, still holding it to the fireplace.

“My parents were very different than yours, or my uncle and aunt,” the words left your lips very easily. “We could never tell when it was going to get bad because most of the time there wasn’t even an actual reason behind it, my father was always angry and my mother wasn’t any better than him, they just had different ways of discipline and punishment.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him pulling back but you didn’t turn to look at him, keeping your eyes on the fireplace.

“Josie got the worst of it, mostly,” you muttered. “She always got in the way to protect me no matter what and like I said, they had different ways, my mother would mostly just slap us or push us around, but my father…” You let out a bitter laugh. “My father was the type of person who would only stop beating the hell out of you when he decided it was enough, regardless of how much you cried—not that Josie ever really cried. I used to, but I learned to stop myself after a while.”

The memory hit you and you shook your head slightly, trying to focus.

“Anyway, there was this one time he got really mad at Josie and he was drunk, and in all that pushing and pulling this bottle got broken, and he had this…this idea to cut her hand with it so that she would ‘learn some respect’,” you quoted him, the words giving you goosebumps even now. “But my mother stopped him, saying it would ruin Josie’s chances to get married if he left any actual scars that her potential suitors could see, making her—what was the term?” you asked more to yourself and scoffed. “Damaged goods, she said.”

Benedict could only stare at you in silence.

“I was very young when it happened, so in my mind I figured that if I had an actual scar, then no one would want to marry me and no one could put me through what my father put my mother through,” you said. “But the problem was that I didn’t have any, so that night after everyone went to bed, I went to the kitchen to give myself one.”

The crackles of the wood in the fireplace echoed through the room, making you heave a sigh.

“I couldn’t really do it though, because it hurt way worse than I thought it would,” you added. “I stopped before I could push the knife deeper or drag it down, but my mother walked in the kitchen and saw me doing that.”

You could feel the tears burning your eyes and you blinked a couple of times to push them back.

“I begged her not to tell my father but of course she did, and father was absolutely furious,” you said. “He yelled at me, then shoved me headfirst into the wall and I hit my head very hard. And the thing about hitting your head is that you can’t really find your balance when it happens, so I tripped backwards and fell right on my wrist.”

For a second, the only thing you could hear was the burning wood and you shrugged your shoulders, then retrieved your hand and turned to look at him.

“That’s how I broke it.”

He looked nearly frozen, staring at you in complete silence as he blinked a couple of times like he was trying to wrap his mind around what you had told him. He gritted his teeth, that fire coming to life in his eyes and he opened his mouth but you stopped him before he could say anything.

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “I don’t need anyone to do that, I hate that nonsense. I’m fine, that’s not why I…”

You trailed off for a moment before you took a deep breath, your eyes locking in his.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust you Ben,” you rasped out, then offered him a small smile and got up from the chair. “That’s the moral of this story.”

“Y/N—”

“Good luck with your sketches,” you said, nodding at the notebook in his lap. “Being immortalized sounds rather lovely now to think of it. Keep drawing me prettier than I am, will you?”

With that, you walked out of the room, your heart still beating in your ears.

Chapter 25

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

951 notes · View notes

aimasup · 2 months

Text

just found some Valiant AU development sketches and notes in my old OLD sketchbook

I really thought it would be a webtoon

long post warning! And I mean long looooooooong post. If you get to the bottom and go "I'm not reading allat" I do not blame you

more under the cut:

^^^ OC

General notes:

This Valiant AU was meant to be a solarpunk superhero slice of life that slowly reveals a heavier plot, mostly focusing on character interactions and personal growth

White Hat Incorporated is a struggling, newbie business and clients are rare

The episodes can range from domestic shenanigans like fixing a leaking pipe or getting dinner, to running their business by defeating the villain of the week

The villains and heroes stay in their roles from canon. The only ones with major changes are our main 4 guys

All major information about White Hat would be discovered from the point of view of Lumencia and Zug as they realize that not only is PEACE corrupt, but that their boss is neither human nor demon nor alien

Now onto the characters themselves:

Dr. Zug Gleis

Like his name suggests, he likes trains. His train is also a drill that was an attempt to burrow out of government's arrest

Which he then modified into a laboratory, each train cart being a unique kind of laboratory for surveillance, medicine, etc. He sleeps very uncomfortably in cramped spaces and likes it that way

V.I.R.U.S is now a software he created and repurposed into his bratty computer assistant, now Cambot. She's also the one recording all their commercials and making his coffee. Basically Zug doesn't get along with ANY of his children

He doesn't like to leave his laboratories, so he set up a network of tunnels through White Hat's mansion that send and receive messages, inventions, food, etc. There's one little chute for these in most parts of the place

His arc was focusing on his inability to accept help from others because he sees any kind gesture as a possible way to control him. Even worse if the kind person genuinely means it, because he also sees accepting kindness as a handicap, a debt

His villainy was an easy way to make money and show the world his capability without any assistance from any hero or villain organization

Really, he just wants to be able to do whatever he wants, but his need to be the best or else he's the worst is tiring for him. Anger issues don't help

This stemmed from a past of constantly being bullied and compared to his brother, Goldheart

After dropping out of hero college, Zug became his own supervillain's known as The Mad Condoctor, whose theme was, you guessed it, trains. He stole trains, modified scrap metal, targeted stations and trade centers, held hostages, prepared puzzles for heroes to solve, etc

The Mad Condoctor was notorious for being uncooperative and a backstabber. He operated at night and was an expert in secret missions, spyware and tech-based combat and the likes

By the first season finale he would have genuinely cared for his coworkers but still didn't value his own life, so he let himself be taken in by PEACE. The crew have to go retrieve their idiot and many things about White Hat Incorporated are revealed to the public after they clash with their local PEACE headquarters

He finds authority annoying and hates seeing people kiss up. Mostly shameless in his actions and doesn't much care for other people's opinions. Can be honest to the point of hurting

So he is a terrible liar. It's like he's allergic to it or something. Prefers to lie by omission

Will only call White Hat 'sir' and 'jefecito' sarcastically or to get a point across. Unfortunately hopelessly devoted to him at the end of the series whoops

Lumencia

A superwoman with horse-like powers that decided to choose unicorns as her motif because that's way cooler. She has kicks and punches that convert her diet into energy, which is great because she loves eating

Changed it up so that Lumencia is the resident prankster and WH tells puns, not the other way around

She has a room with a slanted ceiling which she can climb out the window of to lie and chill on the roof. She's also converted that space, where flat roof meets slanted roof, into an outdoor cinema/gym, decorated with christmas lights. The mansion is a three-way clash of decorative styles from afar

She doesn't have a license to be a hero, but she helps out wherever she can anyway, stopping purse snatchers and helping lost children find their parents and such

In fact, she is actually one of the most beloved people in the little town they live near, with many residents familiar with her buffoonery but affirming her as a reliable source of help

She's also relatively well-known online, as she posts videos of her playing the guitar and well-intentioned but nonsensical 'Lumencia Tips', filled with terrible puns and comic-like ballpoint pen doodles

Her arc would have focused on letting herself acknowledge her strengths that aren't related to fighting

Shes very buddy-buddy with petty criminals and shop owners alike, able to strike up a conversation and make pals no matter who they are. Once she deems you chill, you can chill, yknow? This isn't on purpose.

Even though she has gross taste in food and is messier than Zug, her handwriting is very pretty and neat. She also is very good at graffiti and sticks to an aesthetic, with glitter and y2k stickers and denim-clad wizards on skateboards, all the works

She has a very straightforward view on heroics and is not big on plans, preferring to punch her way out of situations or annoy her enemies to tears. In fact, her main goal is to become an official part of one of the many PEACE-brand hero leagues.

There's other hero corporations too but PEACE is the number one in America

So one day she just showed up on White Hat's doorstep and never left because it would 'look good on her resume'.

Previously, she bounced from place to place, relying on connections and the occasional tip from her halfway-illegal heroism efforts to get by. She also doesn't remember where her powers are from, only that her parents worked at PEACE and where killed by 'villains' when she was a little girl

Her favourite place is the funfair because that's the last nice memory she had

By season two she would have started another arc where she learns that she was an experiment and her parents were killed by their own higher ups in PEACE to silence them, and she has to come to terms with why she even wants to be a hero as well as stand her ground when her optimism is challenged.

Lumencia's music is like whatever Equestria Girls and Electric Mayhem have going on. I think the genre is power pop? Either way it sounds like those elaborate 80s radical van murals look

Is an effortless liar in the sense that she says the most batshit things with utmost confidence and treats consequences like an afterthought.

Only calls White Hat 'White Hat' and not 'boss' when she feels the situation calls for it. Also unfortunately hopelessly devoted to him by the end of the series

624

An extra set of hands that cleans the place and helps out with their little business. Does not like being interuppted when listening to music

Goes from 'fucking hate these guys' to 'they give me food therefore they are mine' in the span of the entire series

Quite lazy, plays the winning side. Which is usually the heroes here

Dunno if I'd call his arc an arc. All I know is there's an episode where his spoilt teenager-ismd hits their peak and Zug and Lumencia have to reach an understanding with him by respecting his boundaries and helping him feel secure

And after that episode, 624 stopped being a total catalyst for disaster plotwise

White Hat

He is one of the comic reliefs and manages White Hat Incorporated, often making really stupid decisions because profit is not on his mind

The final voice I settled on for him was fucking Australian Markiplier

His "growth" would be the characters and readers seeing him to actually be a caring, experienced-in-heroics-but-not-business individual who gives really sound advice and becomes a source of comfort for his close friends

But is still a MEGA-PRICK. Every time he gets beat up it's for a valid reason

In canon, villainy triumphs because Black Hat is there. In the Valiant AU, the story is in the heroes' favour because White Hat is in his place.

I wanted him to be (mostly) opposite to Black Hat in many ways! BH's office is huge, minimalistic, corporate and cold, while WH's office is small, maximalistic, filled with sentimental items and like a warm cabin.

BH basks in hellfire and while WH does use fire, he prefers the ocean. BH enjoys golf, WH enjoys dancing. BH takes himself seriously, WH very much doesn't. BH detests everything, WH has an appreciation for everything. And etc...

They're still horrible creepy eldritch monstrosities, the fish theme for WH is just because he likes ocean shit and fish are scary

BH has made himself known globally and universally, he has statues and monuments and paintings

WH has nothing; White Hat is five years old. This is his first time being White Hat

But he's been around since the beginning of time, taking many forms and names, learning the wonders of the universe and giving all of his time to help however he could

He believed this to be natural, he's the one of a kind who doesn't need rest or food. He can't die or get really hurt, and would later learn he couldn't bear to love either

Some of the things he was included many plants and animals before the humans, then farmers and warriors, witches and politicians, an entertainer vigilante, a writer, a parent, a fur-clad warrior in the snow, guiding forces of nature, and a female pirate.

I wanted him to cycle through the entire alignment chart in terms of morality as he exhausted everything he could do to make a difference

After World War 2 on earth, his psyche gave out and he collapsed into a long, long nap; a shadow pooling in a lake, his favourite

Finally woke up and decided to take his own form not based on any species or star or tree, chose his own outfit and everything

And made his debut as White Hat, forged documents to start a small business for heroes support

He doesn't have an arc, but if he did, he would be in the midst of learning to let himself get attached again and be properly selfish. Maybe identity issues.

But he doesn't have an arc

And so really only serves to help out Zug and Lumencia. He's comfortable with no one knowing these things about him ever, because what would they even do if they did?

Wouldn't change anything, they wouldn't understand the full scope even, so he's at peace with himself right now, grateful that he's alive for once

He uses manipulation to direct conversations away from himself and get people to spill their feelings, or burrow into their trauma without using magic

if he wants he can let loose to trigger some kind of indescribable primal instinct within a person, that cripples them with terror and despair and love for the sublime face of something divine, bigger than the observable universe. He doesn't like doing this.

He's a fan of ice and shadow manipulation, he thinks the colours go well with his coat

Most animals hate him and he cries about it

He also cries when he tries to download an app on a laptop

He is a competent medical doctor, babysitter, and waiter. In fact, he seems to have infinite patience and calm when he isn't whining over dessert like a toddler

The human skeleton hanging in his office is real

Hopelessly attached to Lumencia, Zug and 624 by the end of the series but they don't need to know that

This AU will forever make me warm and fuzzy inside I love them so much, I had so many locations planned, started Pinterest boards and shit

Instead I think I'll take some of these things and apply them to my OCs instead! HUGE thanks to everyone who enjoyed this version of this AU while it lasted! Maybe it'll come back one day, maybe not. Likely not

#my post #my art #art from last year #villainous valiant!au #villainous heroic!au #villainous #villainous hbo max #villainous cn #miss heed #white hat #dr zug gleis #lumencia #624 #long post #not tagging all these characters

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ghostytoad · 7 months

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* Fun n' Games *

ROTTMNT Boys x GN! Leo-esque reader who enjoys drama, making jokes, and being overall awesome

Summary: The Hamato brothers unexpectedly fall for the smug, but genuine, fun-loving reader despite their egocentric habits

Headcanons for: Mikey

GN! Reader; Romantic; Fluff || Words: 1.8k

Raph | Donnie | Leo | Bonus!!

Mikey:

this boy will not hesitate to call dibs on being y/n's best friend the moment they meet; not only are they super cool and confident, they're pretty funny too!

he genuinely admires everything about y/n, from their charismatic and funny nature to the way they seem to keep their cool under pressure

mikey likes to refer to them as the "color bomb of our family portrait" (whatever that means) and will insist they are the splash of color the group's been missing this whole time

nicknames!! he will literally call y/n everything under the sun as a show of affection; some of his favorites include "leo 2.0" and "rainbow"

mikey will take every chance he gets to cling onto y/n like a koala bear or use them as his personal lap pillow; he is the most physically affectionate of the brothers, so expect lots of tackle hugs and cuddles too

insists that it's completely platonic though! cuddling doesn't always have to be romantic or just for couples or anything! if he's not holding onto y/n's hand, he's at the very least hovering in their space at all times

he just happens to enjoy how warm y/n is and they don't seem too bothered by the touching so it just makes sense that y/n is the first one mikey calls when he's in major need of hugs

y/n has a big ego, but mikey doesn't exactly help that fact with his endless praise and compliments; it's like he has stars in his eyes every time he sees them do anything mildly exciting. if anything, y/n is TOO HUMBLE in his eyes

he constantly brags to his brothers about how great y/n is (and how lame the boys are compared to them) to the point where it's painfully obvious to evevryone how lovestruck he is; every conversation somehow loops back to y/n and if no one's around for him to gush about them to? he'll just channel that affection into his art!

every time he invents a new dish, y/n is the first person to taste test his new creation. and if they say they like it? he will make it his new specialty dish for the next few weeks. y/n gets to name it too! a special privilege for only the greatest of greats in his eyes

every time y/n comes over to the lair, he immediately stops whatever he's doing to greet them and show them around like it's their first time ever being in the lair. it's basically a tradition at this point.

no joke, he will literally take them on a tour of the place like it's a new bachelor pad or something

"welcome to our humble little abode~ please feel free to relax on any of our luxury beanbags or "sacco" as the italians call it! to our left, we have the most advanced in genius technology, created by our very own donatello hamato!" "mikey, this is the third time this week they've been here. please for the love of plato, get out of my lab and let me work."

it's also just a fun little way for him to show off his new art without looking too braggy and he can't pass up a chance to pester his brothers; truly a silly little menace

if he's drawing, he usually has y/n pose for his practice sketches; they're just so photogenic and fun to draw, the perfect muse! and they don't complain as much as leo does when he has to model for mikey

he also keeps a special sketchbook meant just for y/n and him; they hand off the sketchbook back and forth every other week to fill with sketches and doodles of anything and everything. mikey thinks it's the purest form of bonding and gives every one of his doodles some meaning that ties back to y/n

the one-liners aren't exactly his style, but he still finds y/n to be incredibly funny, especially when it comes to their pranks. he will not hesitate to join in on their latest scheme (he's terrible at keeping secrets tho so they don't always work out)

is genuinely considering starting an improv troupe or a comedy duo with y/n; he thinks they could make it big if they just had the right venue! or maybe they could start their own cooking vlog together?

"c'mon, just one open mic nite! i promise it'll be fun and you're gonna kill it on stage! and i'll be front row cheering you on!"

y/n has their own little spot in the projector room right by mikey for movie nights; complete with a secret snack stash he's hidden in their beanbag for the two of them to share (he will eat most of it tho if y/n doesn't stop him)

he's not too keen on the idea of dragging them along on dangerous missions, but he will not hesitate to take them for a trip to the hidden city. after all, what better way to introduce y/n to yokai/mutant culture and the untamed world of mysticism than by exploring the mystic metropolis itself?

takes y/n to all of his favorite restaurants and parks when they're out, he enjoys being able to share his safe space(s) with someone special to him! and of course, he wants y/n to have fun too so he won't say no to visiting some of their favorite places!

unlike donnie and leo, mikey's pretty good at keeping y/n's more impulsive nature in check; he might be the wild card, but he's also very aware of the fact that Y/N is a human and as such, should be handled with care! (ironically, he gets upset when raph does the same to him)

don't get him wrong, he doesn't baby y/n, no no. he is simply trying to be a caring, considerate, and responsible friend. he's sure y/n can handle themselves, but the yokai world is new to them! mikey just wants to take it slow is all!

it's not until papa splinter decides to bring up the dreaded topic of grandchildren that mikey is confronted with his own feelings

"All I know is that you boys are only getting older and with each passing day, my hope for grandchildren is getting smaller and smaller."

"DAD, WE AREN'T EVEN ADULTS YET! At least give us a chance to vote for the first time before you start yapping on about kids!"

"It is not the timing I am worried about. It is the sheer lack of game you three seem to have with the ladies. You have to BE a player to start the game." Splinter muttered the last part as if he were talking to himself. A bewildered trio of turtles sat before him in their usual "begging circle" before his favorite chair, unsure of how this conversation went so wrong. All they wanted to do was borrow their dad's iconic Lou Jitsu suit. And he was lecturing them about romance and grandchildren?!

Y/N and Mikey had no idea just what they were walking into when they sauntered into the projector room together, bags of snacks in hand for another movie marathon. Splinter let out a fond chuckle as Y/N greeted the rat with a bright smile and a wave.

"You see, I do not worry about Orange. Clearly he is the only one to receive my dashing looks and irresistable charm! How else would he have caught Y/N's sleek eye?" The old man threw a wink Mikey's way as the turtle stopped in his tracks to glance back and forth between his brothers and father.

"What… did I just walk in on?" his confusion translated into a sharp grimace, the corner of his frown quivering.

"Dad here's bugging us about dating." Leo couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Wha- I thought he was gettin' on our case about grandkids or somethin'?"

"No, no. He was clearly implying that we have no social, relationship, or emotional skills to speak of and therefore have no chance at prospective mates with which we might eventually settle down with and have offspring of our own." Donnie's pout was apparent as he recapped the conversation, unsure if what his father said was a positive or negative sentiment.

Mikey and Y/N exchanged equally horrified glances, dropping the bags of goodies.

"WH-WHAT?!" they cried out in unison.

Y/N could barely get a breath in between their screeching tirade of 'NO NO NO' and Michelangelo's "STOP STOP STOP", both of them making a show of flailing about in humiliation and shaking their heads. Y/N and Mikey? Settling down?! KIDS??!!

"I feel as though I may have missed something…" Splinter watched the spectacle of shame with a quirked brow, stroking his greying beard and shrugging to himself.

The young mutant stopped his panic long enough grab Y/N by the shoulders and sharply turn them to face Splinter, pointing his finger into their cheek as if he were presenting them.

"DAD, WE are FRIENDS. FRIENDS! FFFRIEEEENDSS!" he hissed between clenched teeth, motioning between himself and the human that stood beside him. Behind him, his brothers quietly chuckled and snorted amongst themselves, but he chose to ignore them as he continued.

"WE are NOT getting married any time soon!" he gave Y/N a gentle pat on the shoulder and shot them a soft smile, "No offense."

"N-No, none taken!" Y/N nodded, eyes still wide with shock.

"WE are NOT having kids ANYTIME SOON!" With each word, Mikey's face loomed closer to his father, the man's amused grin unwavering.

"And if anything, I sincerely doubt someone as amazing, sweet, and funny as Y/N would ever wanna have kids with someone like me considering THIS whole situation!"

His hands waved over his body frantically to refer to his mutant form, oblivious to the now-offended scoff Y/N gave.

"Y/N and I were just here to-"

"You don't think I'd be with someone like you just because you're a mutant?" Y/N couldn't keep their irritation from seething off of them as their arms crossed tightly on their chest and their foot tapped impatiently against the cold floor. They were not happy. Mikey shrunk in on himself at the display and waited for them to continue, the entire room now listening intently.

"I'm sorry, is it just me or did you drink a big ol' mug of DENSE juice?" Their finger aggressively poked against the young turtle's plastron, "I happen to LIKE everything about your 'whole situation' and I happen to think YOU are just as amazing and funny, Michelangelo Hamato!" Despite the sincerity of their words, each syllable was spat from their downturned lips as their glare became fatal with angst. Neither of them paid any mind to the others, mouths gaping and eyes rounded with surprise. The box turtle's green cheeks burned a dark red at their words, his heart pounding wildly against his chest and his muscles tense with excitement.

"Does… does this mean I can hold your hand now? Like romantically...?" he squeaked, barely able to contain his glee. Y/N sheepishly nodded as they took his hand in theirs and pulled him into a gentle embrace. From behind him, a chorus of groans and sighs sounded from his brothers. All he could think of now was that Y/N liked him back. Maybe even loved him. Not even his brothers could ruin a perfect moment like this.

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mactavishwritings · 1 year

Text

Fresh Ink Part Three

Ghost x Tattoo Artist!Reader

You were always there for him. Would he do the same for you?

Tw: tattoo needles, kidnapping <3

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four|

It had been about a year and a half since you had started tattooing Simon and about a year since you and Ghost had started seeing each other. You had worked on his sleeve until it creeped up over his shoulder and onto his back. You asked him multiple times to let you do his other arm, but he refused, claiming that he didn't want to run the risk of ruining a single piece with scars or wounds. You told him constantly that you would always cover it up, but he denied every wish. What you did manage to convince him of was to allow you to do a thigh piece; a giant portrait of Ares, the God of War and Courage, with a battle scene background. You had sketches drawn up in your notepad you kept besides your bed, not letting Simon get any early peaks. He always said he trusted you, not wanting any peaks any way, but you always caught him trying to look over your should while you were drawing.

The two of you tried to step up many appointments for Simon to get this tattoo done, but every time the appointment came around, he would get sent on a mission that would pull him away from you for weeks or even months at a time. You felt like you were being stood up, but you knew he couldn't control it. You saw in his eyes that he felt terrible about it and he didn't want to leave you. Whenever he did come back home, he came straight to you. You were his home; he never need to stop at his apartment, he had clothes at your house, and you were always waiting for him with open arms. You were the only home he needed. That and your shop made him feel happy and warm.

Speaking of your shop, you had expanded and you hired another artist to work in the shop with you. It lessened your work load incredibly and gave you the ability to see more of your clients. It definitely helped you relax a lot. Simon noticed the relief immediately, seeing you walk with less weight on your shoulders. You even had the ability to update your room even more; adding more decorations and pictures of you two. Emma made fun of you occasionally, but thought it was cute. Finally, Simon was able to get his thigh tattoo done. He was sitting in your chair, leg up and exposed. You were focused on the tattoo gun, dragging the needle carefully down his thigh. "You know, we've never had a real first date. Our dates consist of tattoos and movies at your place." Simon stated, hand resting on your back. You paused and leaned back in your chair, looking up at the man. "What? What do you mean?" You had a loopsided smile on your face, leaning up towards Simon who leaned back down in response. "I wanna take you on date. A real one where you dress nice and I bring you flowers."

Your face flushed and you gently kissed Simon's cheek before going back to his tattoo. "What were you think, love?" You pulled a deep line, thickening that side to add dimension to the piece. "I want to bring you to some fancy place where we make fun of the other people dining and I want you to wear some pretty dress that will make me drool all night and some heels that make your feel hurt so I'll have to rub them later." Simon played with a piece of your hair that fell out of your ponytail. You giggled and nodded along to his words. "And I would invite you in for a tea afterwards and you would come up with me. We would sit on my couch and drink the terrible I have because I don't drink it." Simon smiled brightly, the smile that only you get to see. "Exactly! Next day you're off, we're going because I don't know when my next mission is." You nodded, pulling another line, a thin one this time.

A couple days past and Simon had texted you that he was cashing in on his date card. He had texted you the day before that he was going to take you out so you had plenty of time to get ready. You treated yourself that day, a full shower, shave, and lotion. You spent the whole day focusing on yourself and getting ready. You knew that Simon would appreciate you taking the time to ground your mind. He wanted you to feel special, to know how much you meant to him. At half past 6, you got a text from Simon saying that he was outside your apartment building. You giggled and double checked yourself in the mirror before running out the door. You felt like it was a first date and you were still trying to impress each other again.

You met Simon in the lobby of your apartment, where he stood with a bouquet of fresh flowers. It was a variety of different flowers, from white lilies to pink roses. You took the flowers in your hands and your face flushed. “Thank you, Si. You really didn’t have to.” You planted a soft kiss on his cheek and he offered your his arm. He wore his usual skull mask, a pair of black fitted jeans, and a plain grey tee shirt that he had half tucked into his pants. Johnny must’ve given him some pointers on how to dress for this date. “I know. I wanted to though. You look absolutely stunning.” You had put on exactly what he had asked of you; a nice dark red dress that stopped right at mid thigh and a pair of heels that were already making your feet hurt, but nothing you couldn’t handle. You took his arm and gracefully walked with him to his car, smiling brightly up at the man, trying your best to ignore the stares you were getting.

The dress you picked out highlighted all of your tattoos, showing them off just how Simon liked. You knew it wasn’t usual for a woman to be completely covered in tattoos, but it was becoming more common. Most of the women who lived around you were clean and pristine, so of course they gave you stare downs whenever given the chance. Plus with Simon’s hulking figure and his mask, you two were like a show for these older women to gawk at. You felt slightly uncomfortable, wanting nothing more than to shrug on a jacket and hide in it. Simon must’ve noticed because he dropped his arm down and wrapped it tightly around your waist. He ushered you quickly into his car. “Ignore them, love. We’re gonna enjoy our evening, despite them.” Simon reassured as he opened the door for you, leaning down close to your face. You smiled, breathlessly nodding before sliding into the passenger seat. Simon reached over you and buckled you in and closed the door before quickly jogging around to the driver’s side and jumped in. You smiled happily as you wrapped your hand around his arm, leaning your head on his shoulder as he took off down the road.

"So we have two options; sushi or steak. Up to you." Simon kissed your head and you shrugged. "Choices choices choices....I think steak." You hummed and Simon smiled. "I like it. Let's go then." Simon quickly changed lanes and turned left. You leaned back in your seat and grabbed his phone to change the music to something you liked. Once you arrived to the restaurant, Simon opened your car door and you stepped out. You smiled at the place and Simon locked his car before guiding you inside. You guys were seated at a booth and you two sat across from each other, him reaching out to hold your hand. You squeezed his hand and grabbed the menu. "You want me to order for you, honey?" Simon looked at you, his thumb rubbing across your knuckles. "Yeah, whatever you think is good. I'm not sure what to get." You scanned the menu a few more times before placing the menu back down at the edge of the table. Simon nodded, before calling the waiter over and ordered a bottle of wine, two steaks, and an appetizer for you two to share. You smiled and leaned back, watching Simon check his phone before sliding it back in his pocket. Your smile faltered for a moment and your shoulders dropped.

"It's going in my pocket and not coming out for the rest of the night, I swear." Simon's hand came to rest on your arm and you nodded, smiling softly at the man. "You get called away any time we try to get together... Don't want to get my hopes up is all." You turned out as the waiter brought out the appetizer. Simon grabbed your hand gently as you tried to divert your attention to the food. "No no, baby. Look at me. I am here tonight and I am not going anywhere. I swear to you. Not tonight, You have me tonight." Simon whispered to you and you blushed, nodding. "Now let's enjoy the rest of the night without worrying about when I am leaving." You two were finishing up the rest of your dessert and you hand your wine glass in your hand, eyes practically in hearts. Simon was telling you one of his mission stories and his fingers laced with yours. When the check came, Simon immediately handed the waiter his credit card, not letting you even see the total. You blushed and finished the rest of your wine, rubbing his arm lightly.

The two of you decided to walk around the park that was down the road from the restaurant. You two held hands, walking past other people in the park. It was a clear night, relatively warm, and the sky was clear. You were just about to say something to Simon when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. Your shoulders dropped and your stomach plummeted. Simon squeezed your hand, before taking out his phone. You sighed as the man stepped away to take the call. The only reason you knew it wasn't good was he kept looking back at you with a familiar look in his eye; the look of sadness that he got when he had to leave you for another mission. You sighed and crossed your arms across your chest as Simon came back over to you after he hung up. "Babe..." Simon grabbed your arms and pulled you close to his chest. "Si. It's okay. It's your job, you can't control that." You casually shrugged and Simon shook his head, leading you back to his car. "I leave in two days. You and I are going to stay in your bed until then and I don't want to hear otherwise."

Those two days came and pasted and Simon stayed true to his word. The two of you stayed in your bed, minimal clothes and only getting up for food and the bathroom. When it came time for Simon to leave, you drove him back to base. You smiled at the man as he leaned over to kiss you deeply before getting out of the car. You rolled the passenger window down and Simon rest his forearms on the open slot. "Will you be here when I get back?" You nodded, knowing the hidden meaning behind the question. "Always." You reached your hand out and Simon grabbed it and planted a kiss on your knuckles. "Seeing you after the missions always make them go by faster. I now got something to come home to."

The mission had only lasted 3 weeks, but it felt like forever for you. You tried to make it go by faster by taking on more clients, but even Emma could tell your mind was elsewhere. You had just finished your last client of the day when you felt eyes on you. You turned your head to see Simon standing at the entrance of your room with his mask pulled up to his nose. "Oh my god! I didn't know you were going to be home this week!" You squealed and rushed over to the tall man. He was prepared for your weight, easily lifting you with one arm wrapped quickly around your middle. "Wanted to surprise you. Called Emma earlier to see if you were still in." You giggled and planted kisses all over the man's face. You tried to push his mask up more, but he stopped you, looking over his shoulder. He walked further into the room and closed the door, before finally shedding his mask. "There he is." You whispered as he sat down on your tattoo chair with you on top of him. You kissed his forehead, nose, and finally lips. "(Y/N). I need to have a serious conversation with you. You know that my job comes with risk, right?"

You got nervous and nodded, arms resting on his shoulders. "Have you seen anything weird? Gotten any weird messages?" You had never seen Simon so serious before. You thought back and shook your head. "I need to be open and honest with you, okay? We got intel that a suspect we've been chasing has touched down about 10 miles from here and I need to know immediately if you see anything weird or unusual." Your body got tense and nodded. "We don't think you'll be in any danger, but I want you to be prepared." You rubbed Simon's shoulder, feeling the stress he had been holding onto for the past few weeks. "Thank you, Si. I will let you know immediately. Pinky promise." You held your pinky out and Simon wrapped his around yours; you both leaned down and kissed your outstretched thumbs to seal the promise. A few days had pasted since that conversation, and you had forgotten all about the threat. You had just parked your car in the employee parking lot you recently opened and walked around to the front door of your shop to unlock the door. You were wrestling with your purse to find the keys when you noticed a note on the door. You grabbed the note and opened it; the paper had a black serpent symbol on it and that's when you heard the squealing of tires and you looked up. You gasped when you saw a black van pull up behind you and two masked men jumped out, grabbing your arms and covering your mouth. You cried out, kicking your legs as they dragged you into the van and driving off; not before dropping both the note and a black ace card on your door.

You were fighting the men off when you were injected with a drug in your arm. You felt your mind go fuzzy and the panic increased tenfold. Tears rolled down your face as you thought of Simon's words, knowing this would practically kill him. You closed your eyes, feeling the fight leave you as darkness over took. How would you survive this?

#simon riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon riley #simon 'ghost' riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #ghost #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost imagine #simon riley imagine #simon riley fluff

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datura-tea · 5 months

Text

holy shit this year marks 10 years of this blog and moz!! i can't remember the exact date i started posting here - my archive says i have one post from november 2013 but let's disregard that - but i do remember it was around late 2014/early 2015 :)

^ one of the very first moz art pieces i ever drew, for fallout week 2015!!

memories and art through the years under a read more bc it got long

2014 → baby's first rpg!! i started playing fnv on my cousin's jailbroken xbox late 2013 and finished mid 2014 and i loved every minute of it. i remember waking up at 8am and playing almost nonstop until 2am the next day haha!

i didn't play moz on my first playthrough - but i did start creating a character that would eventually become her: a shorthaired ex-boxer who punched her way through obstacles when diplomacy failed. i remember she spent a lot of time with boone. i liked him then, because he saved my ass more times than i can count. but i digress. this is draft 1 moz essentially

2015 → this is the year that i was doing my thesis so i could graduate but i was so depressed and stressed about it that i distracted myself by replaying fnv on pc, where i played through the dlcs for the first time. i fell in love with the dlcs' oversarching story; particularly ulysses, who i became obssessed with, especially since i couldn't find any content of him at the time. in the game, i played as moz; i had most of her personality and choices down, but her backstory was still up in the air.

fun fact: this was an existing sideblog that i remade to be a fallout blog so i could look for ulysses content, and when i couldn't find any, i made some myself, featuring moz as my main courier six. originally, i didn't ship them, but eventually i ended the year as a courier/ulysses otp shipper.

this was the year i started drawing digitally - my uncle let me borrow a drawing tablet and i used an old copy of photoshop i pirated hehe

2016 → i graduated this year!! and promptly fell deeper into my depression. this was the year that it got so bad that i had to be medicated. through it all, this blog and moz and ulysses and my fandom friends were with me. and for that i am truly grateful :) this was the year i figured out how to lock transparent pixels so that i could color my lineart lol

2017 → i started hammering out moz's backstory this year i think. there's a lot of sketches of her and her family in my files. i experimented with shading and backgrounds here but that experimentation was pretty short-lived

2018 → i started using references seriously!!!! i did a lot of oc on oc kissing this year, featuring mostly moz and many friend ocs haha

2019 → didn't draw much this year. actually this year was a blur and i can't remember much from it except from it being the year of my terrible no good bad copywriting jobs... anyway i did manage to continue my courier/ulysses brainrot and make this piece, which i'm still proud of

2020 → pandemic time. i spent a lot of time asleep at home and i think this was also the year i started doing commissions?? shoutout to anyone who has ever commissioned me - thank you so much, i truly appreciate it!!

2021 → i switched from my old-ass pirated photoshop to clip studio paint and never looked back. also i did a bunch of commissions for my grandmother's surgery, which failed, and i distracted myself from the sadness by drawing my ocs over and over and playing disco elysium

2022 → by this year, i've got moz down pat and have started vaguely developing other ocs instead. but she's still always at the back of my mind

2023 → i bought new brushes from true grit texture supply and immediately found new favorites that i started using for everything. i tentatively started incorporating background elements in some pieces!

2024 → while it's still too early to say where this year will lead me art-wise, i will say that i started experimenting in realistic paint studio (which i bought in 2021, the same time as clip studio paint) a few days ago and i'm liking the results so far. we'll see!

all in all, these last 10 years have been quite a ride, but i'm glad i stuck around and i'm glad you guys stuck around too!! much much love 💖💖💖

#shh peri shhh #god. look at that old art... i took the ones that i still kinda liked but the rest...#well i don't hate them. but they're old and of their time and i wish i could redo them lmao #my art #moz

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calilk · 5 months

Text

mermaid boat boys, ft a boat

my gift for @theslyvoid9 for @mcytblrholidayexchange

ramblings, process and doodles under the cut

this was sosososos fun to do. i got the prompt and was immediately SO exited and motivated. however i had a large art piece to finish for school so didn’t manage to start properly for a good few weeks. however i DID do initial doodle ideas and composition plans, mostly during class, that are pictured below

by the time i could start in earnest, i’d lost quite a bit of motivation and was struggling a LOT with the sketch and proper proportions, so i didn’t start properly until a week or so before the deadline. oops, sorry this is so late.

this was my first quick colour draft, i was originally going to do the effect with squiggly lines that light creates under water but every time i tried it it just looked terrible so i didn’t. i also changed the positions of etho and joel.

the sketches. i struggled wayyyy to much. i think i spent like 4 hours trying to get it right. BUT i did in the end!

lineart, flats and detailing. i lost etho’s lil floaty side fins here due to my scatterbran and i mourn for them but not enough to draw another set of fins. the detailing took sooooo long and i don’t really like the boat, but don’t have the motivation nor time to change it. i also imagined some kelp winding around them to make the background more interesting but never got around to it in the end. during the detailing i spent 3 hours drawing on a laptop with the mousepad and it was the worst 3 hours of my life. never again. etho’s fins were inspired by those beta fish with the pretty fins. i love them but they were beyond horrible to draw.

shading and lighting. i played around with the opacity of the light streaming through the water but i can’t attach any more images so whelp. yippeeee it’s done. it took be 23 hours in the end and i’m proud of it!!! my giftee also suggested some cannibalism stuff and i REALLY love that idea but didn’t know how to portray it without being graphic so i didn’t go for it. HOWEVER i really want to do an autocanibalism dl pearl piece in the future so yayyy. theslyvoid if you want me to tag you in that if i do it lmk since it was one of your requests :)

#cal original #cal doodles #ITS DONEEEEEEEEEEE #boat boys #boat boys fanart #ethoslab #etho fanart #smallishbeans #smallishbeans fanart #trafficblr #double life #double life fanart #life series #traffic series #mcytblr

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berry-club · 4 months

Text

- Muse -

Minors dni

Inspired by the manga "Museru Kurai no Ai o ageru"

Contains: reader x sungchan, college romance, afab reader, thigh job, virgin reader, 2.5k words

It's a new month, and as usual it's time to change the paintings exposed at the entrance of the college building. You take your painting off the wall before going into the art studio. You put it on the easel and prepare some white paint to start fresh before painting something new over it. When suddenly you hear the door open abruptly making you turn your head towards it. You see a man looking at you with his eyesbrows frowned.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Hum.. who are you?"

"That's not the question. Don't touch that painting."

"Why??"

"I took the habit of looking at it everyday, I got scared when I saw it missing from the entrance, why would you paint over it? That's terrible."

"Well, first of all it's my painting and canvas this big are quit expensive, so I'm trying to re-use it, plus I don't have enough room in my apartment to store it anyway."

"Wait.. does this mean if I bring you a new canvas of the same size I can take it?"

"Sure... I guess"

"Okay I'll bring one tomorrow."

The man takes the painting off the easel and leave the room without even looking back. You stay dumbfounded trying to understand what just happened, what a strange man, why would someone want your painting that bad. You decide to just go home early, not knowing what to do with this change of plan.

The day after, you're in the art studio doing some sketching when you hear the door opening, this time way more gently than the last time. The same man from yesterday is entering with a brand new canvas.

"Hey! I brought it."

"Thank you, you can put it on the easel."

He does as you say before turning around to face you.

"By the way, my name is Sungchan, I'm sorry for yesterday I probably scared you, I didn't think you were the one who did the painting, they were no name on it like the others."

"It's okay don't worry, yeah I wanted to stay anonymous "

"I see..."

The mood becomes awkward, you don't know why he didn't left yet, he starts walking around the room, looking at each details, the decorations on the wall, all the drawings equipment, the few sketches you just did. After taking a good look at the room, he looks at you, being the only last thing he didn't glace at.

"You didn't tell me your name."

"Y/n."

"You know I really like your painting, I usually don't have any sensibility when it comes to art, so it's really precious for me."

"I appreciate that, thank you."

"Y/n, I have a request. Can I come here again to see you work?"

"...I mean, this studio is open to anyone, I can't really forbid you from coming... there is nothing interesting to see tho."

"I'm really interested by the creative process, and I'm curious to learn more about the person who did the painting."

"You're just going to be disappointed by both."

"I'm sure not."

Sungchan smiles and head himself to the door before waving you good bye and leaving the room.

Well of course, all compliments about your art warms your heart but, what you love about this studio is that barely anyone comes, you were often with yourself. Having trouble socializing, this was a room for you to get some peace. You start thinking that maybe, you should have just say "no" to him, but you didn't really had the time to think that much.

After that day, Sungchan came almost every afternoon. Asking you a lot of questions about your work, he seemed always very interested by your explanations, looking at everything you did. It sure was awkward for you at the beginning, but as the weeks passed, you became really comfortable around him, sometimes even teasing each other. You two became really close. At one point, you realised you had feelings for him, but you quickly pushed them aside, remembering you were only seeing him in the studio. Everytime you saw Sungchan left the room, it was like he was going to another world, and he suddenly felt so far away. He had his own group of friends, sometimes you saw him in the hallway with them, but you both took the habit of ignoring eachother, only talking in the studio. It didn't really bother you, thinking that he probably had his own reasons, and you didn't try to talk to him outside the studio either.

One time in the studio, Sungchan was here and as usual, he looked at you drawing, but this time that was different, normally he was looking at your hands, the movement you made or how you were holding the pencils and the brushes. But this time, he was straight up staring at your face. You were thinking about something to say, and before you could open your mouth:

"You know, you're even more captivating than your art."

You sigh, thinking that he was probably just teasing you. "What are you saying? Stop messing with me."

"Messing with you? I'm just saying what I'm thinking."

You look away and your hand stops. Silence fill the room. You know you probably should just thank him and move on, but something about what he said really made an impact on you. Sungchan puts his hand over yours, making you look at him. A beam of sunlight was going over his face, making his skin golden. His eyes, usually a deep brown, were now the color of amber, making him the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"Why did you stop drawing?"

His voice makes you regain consciousness, you feel your heart beating loudly in your chest, you put your eyes back in the paper thinking that if you saw him 1 more seconde, you wouldn't be able to stop the wave of feelings inside of you.

"Sorry, I have to go home."

You quickly pack your stuff and leave the room without even saying goodbye, you think you heard sungchan say something but you are so overwhelmed, the only thing in your mind right now I how you want to go as far away from him as possible.

The day after, you spend your time collecting your emotions to be able to meet him like normal when he comes back. Almost a week passes and sungchan didn't came at all, you were thinking that he finally got tired of you, maybe now you were going to live your life like you did before meeting him, you let out a long sigh, when suddenly you see him push the door. He starts speaking to you like he always did and you feel so relieved you could almost cry, then after spending some time together he says,

"Do you wanna come to my place? I have something I want to show you."

"Unh? You want to see me outside the studio?"

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I?"

"Well you ignore me everytime we see eachother in the hallway. So I though-"

"It's not like that! Everytime we see each other i'm with friends, I know you're not comfortable talking to people so I thought it was better to talk to you when we are only together."

"Oh..I see, thank you."

"Soooo, are you coming? It's really important."

His puppy eyes begging you to say "yes", you have no other choice than to agree. You leave the room together, and you follow him to his apartment near the college building. Just a few steps in his apartment and you end up in front of the painting that he took when you first met him, exposed on the wall with nothing else around it that could distract you, a light over it illuminating the canvas. You can't help but smile wide seeing that, your art being exposed in his apartment like it was the most precious thing in the world. You never thought the day would come where you could see your work being treated with such care.

Sungchan sees you and jokes around, "Oh you like it? It's by my favorite artist."

You chuckle and follow him to the living room where he makes you sit on the couch. You can see him fidgeting in front of you.

"You want something to drink?"

"No thanks, i'm good."

"Are you hungry maybe?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you cold? Do you want me to turn on the heater?"

"Sungchan. Everything is perfect, show me the thing you wanted me to see."

"Sorry... I'm a little nervous.. it's here follow me."

Sungchan tilt his head and you follow him to a door. He looks hesitant for a second and push it. The room is filled with art stuff, some sheets on the ground to prevent paint from falling on the wooden floor. You see a stool in the corner of the room in front of an easel, with a canvas covered with a white sheet. Without a word, Sungchan gets closer to the easel and slowly removes the sheet. The feeling you got seeing this painting was indescribable, like it was suddenly the only thing on earth, your eyes got lost in it, every brush stroke looked intentional, meticulously placed. Sungchan's voice takes you out of your bubble.

"What do you think? I'm sorry for not coming to the studio the past few days, I've been coming home early to work on it."

"That's... amazing"

"No.. you are amazing, you were my inspiration for it."

"Me?" You look at him, puzzled.

"Yes, I guess you're what you call a muse."

Sungchan smiles at you, you never thought a day would come where you could be a muse, no matter where you went you were always the artist. You put your eyes back on the painting, thinking that the deep connection you had with it made sense now, when suddenly you feel a hand in your cheek, making you turn your face towards sungchan, he looks straight into your eyes, slowly caressing your cheek before puting his tumb over your lips.

"But no matter how hard I try, even in a thousand years, I could never make a painting half as pretty as you."

He slowly leans over you and his lips touch yours, you kiss him back putting your hand on his cheek, you feel like you can finaly set free all the feelings that was building for him inside of you. You lose yourself in his arms and your kisses become deeper and more passionate. Sungchan takes a step back from you and stares at your face before taking your hand and bringing you the his bedroom. You sit on the bed and he starts kissing your neck, slowly going to your ears, while sliding his hand under your shirt to touch your breast over your bra. He makes you lay on the bed and raises your shirt to your neck before putting kisses all over your belly. He puts his hands on your pants, removing the button and unzipping them. Making them slide down on your legs and fall on the floor. He raises one of your legs and puts your calf over his shoulder before kissing the inside of your thigh. Sungchan doesn't lose a single seconde, going everywhere, like he didn’t know which part of your body he wanted the most, you suddenly realise how ambarrassed you're feeling.

"Sungchan... It's akward being the only one undressed."

"Oh right, sorry."

Sungchan removes his clothes and stays in his underwear before helping you completely remove your shirt and your bra. He caresses your stomach before slowly going over your cunt, sliding his longs fingers against the fabric. You grab the sheet, trying not to go completely crazy over his touch already. He slides your panty to the side and immediately goes to your clit with his ring and middle finger, you moan at the stimulation.

"Even the sounds you make are pretty."

Sungchan removes your undies before going in with his tongue, going all over your folds with more attention to the clit. Making you curl on the bed, you put your hand on his head making his tongue go even deeper and rougher on you, his thick tongue stimulating all the right places, going in and out your hole, his soft lips sucking on your clit making all kind of dirty noises and you can feel yourself about to finish, sungchan grabs you by the waist, making sure you don't get away from him while you cum on his face, he keeps licking you while your hips go crazy. Your hand grabbing his hair so hard you're pretty sure you're hurting him.

He releases you from his grip, and you can finally catch your breath, sungchan stands up and removes his hard dick from his underwear. You suddenly realise what's about to happen. You had a lot of first times with sungchan today, but you're not sure you can handle that yet. You close your eyes shut, and your body starts shaking thinking about the pain you're about to feel, when sungchan leans over you and gently puts his lips on your forehead.

"Don't worry so much, I won't put it in."

He grabs your ankles, close your legs before raising them, put his warm cock between your thighs and starts going back and forth. Your pussy was still throbbing from earlier and the movements of his warm dick against it was sending you to heaven.

"Ugh, why does it feel so good."

Sungchan smiles, happy that you feel the same way as him, he starts going faster. The sound of your skins hitting against each other and the vision of sungchan's sweating with his mouth half opened while panting loudly is starting to drive you insane. You watch his dick quickly appear and disappear in your tighs, like your legs were eating him. Sungchan groans and you can feel his dick twitching against your pussy, his cock hitting your clit at every move. He removes himself from you, letting your legs slowly fall on the bed and gives himself a few strokes to cum on his own dick while breathing heavily, you start calming down again while he whipes himself and puts his underwear back. He gently brings a blanket to your neck and goes under the sheets next to you. He makes you go on your side so he can hug you tightly, putting his face in the crook of your neck. You stay like that for a moment, none of you daring to move the slightest, almost trying to merge your bodies together.

He whispers in your ear: "You know, when I explained to you why I was ignoring you in the hallways, it wasn't entirely true.. I didn't want to bring any attention to you because I was scared that if someone was looking at you for too long, they would fall in love with you too. I wanted you to be my secret."

"Sungchan.."

You tighten the hug and put your hands through his hair, trying to convey your feelings for him, making him understand that he's the only one in your eyes.

Sungchan distant himself from your neck to look at your face. He slowly tucks your hair behind your ear and smiles.

"I should have asked sooner but, will you go out with me?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

You smile at Sungchan while looking at him in the eyes, sure that right now, no one loves someone as much as you love him.

#riize imagines #riize x reader #riize #riize smut #fanfic #fanfiction #kpop imagines #smut #sungchan #sungchan x reader #sungchan imagines #sungchan fanfic

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analogwriting · 2 months

Text

Star-Crossed

Chapter 20: Kardiá

Donquixote Rosinante x gn!reader word count: 3k first|next a/n: whoops didn't mean for this to take so long but thus is the price of me working every single day for two weeks straight ayeo.

You woke up with a loud gasp, sitting up quickly and falling into a coughing fit as the tubes in your throat moved around from your sudden intake of air. You felt a hand begin to rub your back and a voice followed by footsteps running into the room and yet another voice, but it was far away and you couldn’t understand what they were saying. You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes and your already raw throat began to hurt even more.

A glass of water was held in front of you and you took it, giving yourself a moment before trying to swallow some of it down. It helped a bit, your coughing subsiding. Everything still hurt, your head absolutely pounding from the suddenness of everything; consciousness, the coughing, your body moving, etc.

After a few more moments, you were able to settle yourself back down. You were concentrating on regulating your breathing and making the room stop spinning. “Are you feeling better?” You blinked, honestly forgetting where you were at the moment. Right - the hospital. You looked over, seeing Corazon sitting there with concern sketched all over his face.

Everything seemed to hit you all at once. What your father did, the heist, the dream - and tears began to roll down your face. The concern only grew on Corazon’s face. “Y/n?”

“I’m sorry,” you rasped out, your voice completely gone from not using it for so long. You felt terrible for everything you had put everyone through. For all the worry and stress, just all of it.

Corazon said nothing, pulling you into his arms. Being surrounded by such warmth and love, it reminded you of what you once felt all those years ago with your parents, bringing forth the dream or whatever it was that you had while you were out. Emotions began to run absolutely wild and you buried your face in his shoulder as you cried, clutching on to him for dear life.

You were worried that if you let go, he’d disappear. That this was the dream and you’d actually chosen death somehow. You knew that wasn’t the case logically, but your mental fortitude wasn’t exactly rock solid at the moment.

It was even a while after that before you finally calmed down again. Your body hurt, heavy from the sudden activity it was experiencing. You’d lied as a vegetable for the past month and now you were exerting yourself, overly so. As you slowly calmed down, you felt your body slowly becoming heavier and heavier.

Fuck. You didn’t want to fall asleep. You’d just woken up, after all. You wanted to be able to see and converse with everyone. You wanted to get out of this room. Sure, you were a doctor and you loved your hospital, but you sure as shit hated being a patient. You hated being sick - even if you technically weren’t. You hated being the patient. Besides, what if you went to sleep and then didn’t wake back up? Or what if everyone was gone somehow? What if the hospital was overrun again? Not that you could even do anything in this state.

You pulled away from Corazon, barely able to keep your eyes open, but determined to stay awake. He could see this, trying to get you to lie down. “Get some sleep, you need it.” His voice was soft, soothing. Ugh, you wanted nothing more than to curl up with him and do just that.

You shook your head. “No. I’ve been out long enough. I…” You trailed off, your train of thought becoming lost. You knew that was due to being tired. You knew how the human body worked, that was your livelihood.

“See? You need to rest. I know you’ve been out, but it’s okay this time. I’m sure you’ll wake back up in a few hours.”

You shook your head again. “No,” you mumbled, pinching yourself to keep from falling asleep. This made him hiss softly as if he’d been the one you did it to. “Stop.” His voice was still gentle, but firm as he took your hands in his.

You looked at him, frowning as fear started bubbling up. “What if I don’t wake back up, though? What if this is the last time I see you? The last time I’m alive? There’s so much I need to do. To say. I-”

“You don’t need to worry. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.” Corazon offered a warm smile, trying to keep you calm. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you felt a wave of calm wash over your body.

You didn’t even know what you were saying. Logically, you knew this wasn’t true. You knew the human body well enough to know what state you were in. You’d sleep and wake up in a few hours feeling a whole lot better. Then you could eat a proper meal and get some more rest in. Recover was going to be a piece of cake from here since your bullet wounds were already mostly healed.

So, why couldn’t you just let yourself sleep? Why were you still scared? Why were you saying these things? It didn’t make any sense. You weren’t making any sense.

Suddenly, you felt a wave of something wash over your entire body and you weren’t able to fight anymore. You looked behind you, spotting Marco. “Oh, you fucking bastard,” you mumbled, feeling yourself slowly sink into the bed.

Marco sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. It’s for the best. You need to rest.”

You didn’t say anything else as the sleeping agent he’d put into your IV took over and the world around you went black.

When you came to, your entire body felt sluggish - must’ve been due to whatever Marco drugged you with. You were still slightly salty, but from a doctor standpoint, you understood. Technically, if he’d done that to a patient it was a pretty big no no since you weren’t exactly a danger to yourself or others other than making yourself sleep deprived, but it was you.

You would’ve done the same thing to him if roles were reversed.

The room was darker. The curtains drawn, but no light peeked through so you assumed it was nighttime. The tubes that had been lodged up your nose and down your throat to help you breathe were no longer there. Since you were conscious again, you didn’t exactly need them. You were glad too, you hated that shit. Most of the IVs you were hooked up to were gone as well. You only had your heart monitor on now, probably to make sure you didn’t freak out or at least they’d know if you did.

You heard someone mutter something next to you, noticing Corazon sleeping at your side once more. A small smile stretched across your face. You weren’t sure what you did to end up with someone like him at your side, but you were grateful and hoped he stuck around.

Though, if he was still around after all of this, you supposed he might keep at it. And you were thankful for that.

You slowly sat up, trying not to disturb the sleeping man next to you. You knew he needed his sleep just as much as you had. He had looked absolutely exhausted. Whenever he woke up, you were going to make him go home and get some real rest.

“You’re awake.” You looked over, seeing Law standing there with a shocked look on his face. “I heard you had an episode earlier, I wasn’t expecting you to be awake already.”

He entered the room, but stayed near the door. You watched him for a moment, thinking with amusement. How the tables have turned. You had taken care of him so long ago and now he was taking care of you. You’ve come full circle. “How are you fairing, Law?” you asked, watching him.

“I should be asking you that question.”

“Too late. I’ve already asked you.”

Law shook his head, a hint of a smile on his face. “I’m doing just fine. Now that you’re awake and fine, I can stop having to worry about Cora.” He rolled his eyes, folding his arms. You could tell he was really concerned. For you or Corazon you weren’t sure, though you assumed it was his father.

“That’s true. When he wakes up, can you make sure he goes home and sleeps? He needs some proper rest in a proper bed.”

“I’ve been trying for a month and he won’t listen to me.” He was pouting slightly and you couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to yourself.

“Well, now that I’m awake, he should be more willing to listen, no?”

“Hopefully.” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He walked over to you, seemingly over whatever weird spell that had been keeping him from coming close to you. He began a standard check up. “Now you answer the question. How are you feeling?”

You let him do his check up, shrugging. “As good as I can after waking up from a coma and having my entire life turned upside down.”

That made the corner of his mouth turn up a little. “I suppose I can relate to that a bit myself.”

You didn’t know Law’s backstory. You didn’t know what he went through before Corazon had found him and you didn’t exactly plan on asking either. It was probably a sensitive topic that you didn’t want to touch.

“Life be like that sometimes, huh?” A small smile stretched across your face and he just looked at you before nodding. He probably expected you to ask, but he also looked relieved that you didn’t.

“It sure does.” He stood back up, writing down on his clipboard.

“You’re doing a great job, by the way. Stellar check up.” You winked at him and his cheeks tinted slightly. Technically, he was still your intern and you were still his boss. You just also now happened to be dating his dad. A little messy, but you weren’t going to let that get in the way of your job.

“You’re just saying that beca-”

You cut him off by holding up your hand. “Absolutely not. It doesn’t matter if I’m dating your dad or not. I will always judge fairly. If anyone can separate work and home - it’s me. Don’t undersell yourself - you’re shaping up to be an excellent doctor.”

Law bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “Ah, y-yes, doctor.”

Just then, Corazon stirred a bit, grumbling slightly. You watched as his eyes cracked open slightly. They looked towards you before shooting open, sitting up as he noticed you were awake. “You’re awake!”

You laughed softly, nodding. “I am.” You felt your heart race at his excitement. For fuck’s sake, you loved his man.

Despite his excitement, you could see the exhaustion catching up to him. The bags under his eyes, the puffiness of them. You reached over, touching the side of his face gently. He looked caught off guard, but his features softened, only further making him look more tired.

“Go home and get some rest.” That made him perk up. He shook his head. “No! I’m fine. I’ll just-”

You shook your head. “Go home. Get some rest. Law.” You looked at your intern and he jumped. “Take him home.”

“But I work overnight tonight.”

“I know Marco is here. It’s fine. Take Corazon home. If he gives you trouble, send him my way.” You looked back at your boyfriend. “Go home and get some real sleep or we’re going to have an issue.”

Corazon frowned deeply, pouting. “But I just wanna stay with you,” he mumbled with a slight whine to his voice. You shook your head, fighting the urge to giggle at his antics. “You can come back tomorrow after you’ve rested up. I won’t be going anywhere.”

There was a bit more back and forth, but eventually Corazon folded, leaving with Law. You sighed, sinking back into the bed. You stared at the ceiling, thinking.

“I hear you’re sending Law home?” You looked over, seeing Marco standing in the doorway.

“Yeah. He needs to keep an eye on Corazon. Make sure he sleeps and takes care of himself.”

“Can’t argue with that. The man’s barely left your side since you went under.” Marco sighed, walking over to your bedside.

“How ya feelin’?”

You just looked at him with an expression that could kill and he held up his hands. “Don’t hate me. Just doing my job.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Whatever.”

You were tired, but you weren’t necessarily the sleepy kind of tired. Not the kind that taking another nap would fix. Just overall body exhaustion.

“How are my charts lookin’?”

Marco pulled out his clipboard, flipping through the pages. “Everything is fine. You just need to rest and eat to regain your strength and then you’ll be good to go.” He shrugged. “The bullet wounds on your back are all healed up, but don’t overexert yourself and it should be hunkydory.” He immediately pursed his lips and cringed at his word choice.

You looked at him, a shit eating grin spread across your face. “You sound like Pops when you use words like that.”

He groaned, shaking his head. “I know. I don’t know why I said it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. He looked positively exhausted too.

“When was the last time you slept?”

He shrugged. “I had a nap in our office earlier.” Technically, Marco didn’t have an office. You two just shared once since the two of you were always at the hospital. Eventually, he just started referring to it as the both of yours.

“Well, you should go home and get some sleep too. I’m sure everything will be fine here.” Marco scrunched up his nose before shaking his head. “I think I’m good.”

You rolled your eyes. Unfortunately, you knew there was no arguing or winning with Marco. At least not right now. He was the one currently in charge. You could probably convince him later. “Then could you please bring me some food? I could probably eat a horse, honestly.”

Marco snorted, nodding. “Will do. I’ll send a nurse in to bring you something shortly. I need to check on some other things.”

After he left, you sighed. Once the room fell silent, your stomach growled loudly. You were sure the sound traveled down the hallway. You groaned, holding your stomach. It hurt with how hungry you were. Sure, you’ve been hooked up to machines and fed that way, but now that you were back to running normal, you were starving.

It wasn’t long before a nurse walked in. Lo and behold, it was another one of the interns. Shachi bounded over to you. “I heard you were awake!” He smiled widely, setting your food down on one of those lap trays and setting it on the bed over your legs. “Glad to see you’re doing better.”

“Yeah.” You looked over at him. “Thank you for the food. I trust things have been going okay? How are you adjusting to the hospital?”

He looked at you for a moment before chuckling. “Always the workaholic. You’ve barely woken up and you’re already back at it.” He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “Things are great. I’m enjoying my time here and the people are really nice. Got pissed on the other day, but that’s whatever.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Glad it didn’t deter you, then. It’s good to have you. Hopefully you’ll be able to stick around.” Besides, after everything that happened, you thought about having all staff or at least more than what you had previously be staff that isn’t unfamiliar with the underbelly of the city.

People like you who wanted to leave that life. People like your underground staff who were looking for a way out. People who have seen the ugly and wanted to help. If you had people like that on both sides, the hospital could be more well rounded and you could probably rest a little easier.

Part of the reason you were at the hospital so much was to keep it safe guarded, but if you had more people that were aware of the stakes, it might be better.

“Oh definitely!” Shachi tore you out of your mental tangent. “I plan on staying for as long as you let me! We all do.” A lopsided grin appeared on his face. “A lot of people are fond of you, doc. And we’re all relieved to hear you’re doing well.” He nodded, his comment stunning you slightly. “Well, I’m off. Holler if you need me!” Then he sprinted off and you watched him with a fond smile. He was full of life and seemed eager to help people. That was good. You hoped he’d be able to keep that energy for a long time.

You turned to your dinner. It wasn’t much, some soup and some bread to cut up to eat with it. Since you hadn’t ate in a while, your stomach was small - it’d be a while before you’d be able to eat any big meals again. This would be more than enough for the time being.

You cut into your small loaf of bread, making bite size pieces for you to soak up the soup and pop it in your mouth. The first bite made you groan. It tasted like it was the greatest thing in the world. It probably wasn’t like a five star restaurant level good, but it tasted like it after not eating for so long.

You finished up your meal, setting the tray to the side on the table. Someone would probably come and get it later. As you set it down, you felt the air immediately shift in the room. You immediately tensed and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You looked over to the doorway and you paused, eyes widening.

There he was. Your father, Anthony.

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swiftllama · 9 months

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August Compliments ☀️🔍

[Compliments Masterlist]

Hello everyone! So this is the continuation of the first Compliments Post I made and a round up of the compliments from August 2023.

So let’s jump in shall we!

August 2023

Starting off the month we got a double dose 4 days into the month. And it actually comes from Ian!

What Would Our Warning Labels Say? | Let’s Get Talking

Ian, Shayne, Courtney, and Angela all played a Q&A style game where Ian gave some answers relating to and complimenting Anthony :-

I should also say the time stamp title for this question in the video is ‘Who Are Our Fave People’ 🥹

Q: “Who do you admire the most?”

Originally Ian agreed with Courtney’s answer of Amanda but never expanded on why and gave a very Ian answer of “things like that [what Courtney said]”, before changing his answer :-

Ian: “I have a different answer actually - Anthony.”

Courtney: “Awwww!”

Courtney being the resident Ianthony fangirl once again and representing us all 😌

Ian: “I think because he was always - until towards the end of his time at Defy he wasn’t a hundred percent in it, but before that with the sketches and now that he’s back, whenever he’s doing something, he’s a hundred percent into it. He’s fully committed. He’s willing to do whatever it takes to make sure it’s the best it can be.”

I know we don’t get it as often from Ian, but these little tidbits that we do show that the appreciation for Anthony is there just as much as Anthony’s is there for him. Ian just expresses himself in different ways. He actually mentions similar thing when it comes to himself and showing outward excitement even when he is excited and Courtney chimes in with how she has seen him showing his excitement outward and how she’s seen it “especially lately” 🥲 I made a post with the clip at the time which you can find here.

Another little moment from the video that is compliment-adjacent I’d say since I think it says a lot about who someone chooses as their answer to the question :-

Q: “If you had to be handcuffed to a person for a week, who would it be and why?”

Ian: “I guess I would say Anthony, because I feel a lot of the video ideas that we came up with back in the day was just out of boredom of being around each other a lot and we’d just come up with a video idea. So I feel like being handcuffed to him for a week would give us an opportunity to come up with a lot of ideas for sketches.”

Okay, so again in typical Ian fashion we gotta read between the lines a little on this one 😅 Ian doesn’t like to get mushy as we know so his reasoning being “coming up with video ideas” doesn’t surprise me lol. But I think the first part of his answer gives a lot away - having someone you can be bored with says a lot. That’s a very specific level of comfort with another person. Not to let my swiftie side show on this post lol but there’s a lyric Taylor has from her song Peace that perfectly sums up what I mean by this

“Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other.”

That’s what I mean. Someone you can be bored with and it’s still a good time, there’s no awkwardness, you can sit in silence because it’s enough to just be existing in the same space that they are.

Moving on from the Games video.

Variety Article (aka Blue Dot Gate)

On the same day, Variety dropped an article with Ian and Anthony, and for some reason Ian had blue dot on his face in the photo that was used for it 🤷‍♀️ Ian was just as confused and so took to his Instagram Story :-

And Twitter :-

But Anthony was quick to show his support 🫡 :-

SLEEPWALKING DISASTER! Watch Party

So during the livestream someone in the chat says that Ian should change his profile picture in the Smosh Royalty discord server to the one of him with all his cross-country medals from his high school senior portraits. He’s got a really terrible haircut in it 🙈 He does find it funny but I’m not going to share it because I know part of him hates it and I feel bad, but it is out there so you should be able to find it if you’re curious.

Anyways, they’re joking around about it and Anthony’s (affectionately) taking the piss out of him for it.

Ian: [explaining the photo] “So I was posing with all my cross-country medals; Cause your boy is a freakin’ champion. No, not really.”

Anthony: [in cutesy voice] “Yeah you arrree.”

Ian don’t you know by now that Anthony will not allow you to downplay your accomplishments! 😤

Anthony: [finds and shows the photo to the camera] “Why did you take a photo with all your medals?”

Ian: “Cause I didn’t accomplish much else [in high school]...”

Anthony: “Awwwww no, yeah you did!”

IAN STOP BEING MEAN TO YOURSELF THATS SO SAD 😩

Glad Bestie Anthony is on hand 🥺

Assassin’s Creed 3 Song - Flashback w/ Smosh Ep 1

First episode of their new podcast brought forth a few little complimentary moments :-

Ian: “I look so adorable here [the screencap above].”

Anthony: “Yeah, you look so cute.”

Anthony: “Awww, Ian being a soft boi”

Plus the little hint of a smile on Anthony’s face seeing baby-face Ian ☺️

That Smosh Guy - Ian Hecox Interview | How Famous Is Jirard?

Another little compliment from Ian sprinkled in the month. Nothing major, just wanted to include it. He went on this podcast and talked about Defy and how what Smosh became ultimately led to Anthony leaving.

Ian: “So after the years of doing all this extra stuff that Anthony felt like wasn’t really core, I think it just really wore him out, and the thing with Anthony is that - if he has a project, he’ll put his whole heart into it.”

Just thought this was nice little one to include since we’ve had a lot of Anthony recognising Ian’s work ethic, so why not the other way round for a change? I think it’s also another example of why their dynamic works well, especially since Ian goes on to say that he’s not like that, and that if he’s not feeling a project he won’t put all his efforts into it. I feel that must balance them out well - that if Ian isn’t really feeling something but Anthony is he can encourage Ian to see the potential in it, and same goes for if Anthony’s putting too much pressure on himself to create something perfect when he doesn’t necessarily need to, Ian is able to pull him back and recognise that he doesn’t need to burn himself out.

Roasting Each Other’s Cringey Tweets (You Posted That)

They brought up the ‘baby more like daddy’ tweet that I included in the first compliments post. And what did I say about how the period of time when Anthony kept complimenting Ian on social media before their reunion stood out to me. Now we have confirmation that, as Erin dubbed it in have video, they were “soft launching” the fact they were talking/friends again.

Ian: [tweet shows on screen] “So I said ‘Baby’s first chain’. Ha ha [fiddles with necklace] now I’m a chain boi.”

Anthony: “Awww.”

Not really a compliment, just thought it was cute lol.

Anthony: “I remember this was my first time ever publicly supporting you.”

Ian: [smiles] “Noooo, that’s not true.”

Oh 🥺 I don’t know what to call this moment exactly? Almost like the shoe is on the other foot? Ian not allowing Anthony to paint himself in a bad light by saying this was the first time he ever showed support to Ian publicly. I agree with Ian that it definitely isn’t the first time over the years but obviously the ‘between years’ caused a big gap and the years before I think it’s clear from what Anthony said in the journal video about not praising Ian enough in the past that he feels bad about that and it’s why he’s so vocal now in supporting him - to make up for that.

Anthony: “It’s [the tweet] something like ‘daddy likey the blingy’.”

Not Anthony lying to try and save face 🤭 he knows exactly what he said! That man remembers the most random, minuet details about things - especially when it comes to Ian. He just doesn’t want to admit he has a thing for calling Ian ‘daddy’ 😏 it’s okay Anthony, you can embrace it, we get it.

EVIL AI TRIED TO KILL ME! Watch Party

Someone in chat congratulations Anthony for being nominated for a Streamy and the boys talk about how they’ve got suits for it and then proceed to go back and forth saying how ‘good’ and ‘hot’ they’re going to look - Which indeed they did 😍

Someone in chat then asks if their suits are matching.

Anthony: “Matching suits? No they’re not matching. But they do look really good together though. They vibe well together.

I don’t think that’s the suits Anthony, I mean they help, but that’s all Ian and you. They look good and they vibe well together 😌

Anways, that was just a fun little one!

Moving on…

Ian ‘Cupid Shuffle’ Hecox

Ian blessed us with this Instagram post of him busting a move and looking 🔥 at Kimmy’s wedding :-

And of course Anthony couldn’t help himself :-

Streamys 2023

We didn’t really get much from the Streamys (not even Anthony winning 😤) but there was one little moment that happened early on in the show where they mentioned OG YouTubers and a clip of Ian from Food Battle 2012 where it looks like he’s doing ‘questionable things’ to a doughnut plays on screen.

Now obviously I don’t know how Ian felt in that moment having that play, but I think anyone would feel a little under the spotlight, especially given the context of the clip and how for people who’ve never seen FB or Smosh it must have been fairly confusing lol.

But no worry, because Ian’s no1 fan was sitting right there next to him. From the audience, over the people laughing and a few claps, you just hear Anthony’s voice yell “YEAH!” with his hand raised in the air :-

Always there to be Ian’s cheerleader 🥹

Anthony Plays Smosh Hide and Seek

So this was just a silly little moment, that again is more compliment-adjacent but still thought it deserved a little shoutout to close out the month.

In the hide and seek video Anthony and Ian are down to the last remaining few people to try and find - one of those being Chanse. Earlier in the video Anthony had checked the clothing racks and not found anyone - Ian wanted to allow him to seek his own as it was his game, but since they were having to re-check where they’d already been Ian decided to help him out, and low and behold, he found Chanse 😆

Anthony couldn’t believe he’d missed him!

Anthony: “That was such a good spot, holy shit! And your feet being in this bucket - holy shit! I would have never found you. Ian, damn, you found him!”

Literally just thought this was cute of Anthony giving Ian the recognition of finding him and that he wouldn’t have been able to without him. That’s all. Have no more thoughts on this one lol.

And so August slipped away into a moment in time…

Hope you enjoyed reading and I shall see you next time!

#smosh #ian hecox #anthony padilla #ianthony #☀️🔍#ian and anthony #smoshian #smoshanthony #ianthony compliments #my posts

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