#this poor person who had to deal with this bullshit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rubra-wav · 3 months

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Hello! I saw asks were open and I wanted to drop a request! What if Husk, Angeldust, and Alastor (separate) had a s/o who revealed that they could break deals on their (the collared's) end given some time?

Husk, Angel Dust and Alastor with a Dealbreaker S/O

[Part 2]

A/N: Alastor's is written as purely platonic tho per my personal boundaries

My Hazbin OC actually is a powerful Dealbreaker, so I'm going off of the lore I've thought up on this topic for him haha

I will maybe write a part 2 where reader actually manages to break the contracts rather than just saying they could.

CW: Sfw, angsty asf in places, reference to addiction, mention/reference to violence, Angel's touches a bit more on abuse response/trauma response type stuff, body/ horror imagery in Alastor's (Alastor being the creature he is basically)

Husk

- Husk would not believe you at all at first.

- He would be tending the bar and then stop mid-drying a glass as a heartbreaking hint of hope (the first hope he'd felt in centuries) passes over his face for a second before crumpling and turning to extreme bitterness.

- "That's not funny." He'd growl through grit teeth at you, thinking it was some kind of cruel joke.

- When reassured that you are absolutely serious, he gives you more of a look of almost pity, sighing as if deeply tired.

- He tells you that multiple people have told him the same thing over the years, and that they have all failed just the same.

- All skilled people who were known to be able to break even soul ownership deals wide open.

- The leash Alastor had on him was air-tight.

- He basically tells you it would be a giant waste of time and that you should give up and focus your time on something better then a poor old sinner like himself.

- When you don't back down from the discouragement, he sighs again, but feels warmth burning in his chest at the fact you wanted to help him so badly.

- He's not hopeful, but he wants to have faith in you even if he's trying to discourage you and scare you straight as much as possible.

- He wants so badly to be free so he can be with you without any limits of his commitment to you and only you. To not have to think about whether he's going to be summoned to some bullshit getup again whenever Alastor gets bored of the Hazbin Hotel.

- Deep down he's absolutely desperate for you to succeed in your mission.

- He wants the catalyst for his alcohol problem to go away so he can live and finally actually be happy without the heaviness of his deal weighing on him at all times, making him desperately need the escape.

- He absolutely will tell you very very seriously to not to let this slip that you're doing this to anybody though - or talk about this in a place you aren't absolutely confident doesn't have any certain member of the hotel listening in.

- Husk doesn't think that Alastor would harm you physically over this, that asshole would probably just find it amusing. However.

- Husk's worst fear would be you trying to get him his soul back by signing away yours, something very possible Alastor would offer as a trick.

- He'd be skeptical, fearful of you succumbing to a deal with Alastor, and not very hopeful at all as he's tried time and time again to break the contract on his soul. You are so... optimistic that you'll find a way, but again, his collar is air-tight. You'll have your work cut out for you breaking the deal of someone who's notoriously a dealmaker.

Angel Dust

- When you tell him that, he tenses up with a sharp inhale of breath, a complete 180 from how he just was seconds before, winding down from his night in his hotel room with you.

- Angel's deal would be logically way more easier to break. However, what Valentino's deal doesn't directly hold of Angel, the moth's manipulation keeps him stuck imprisoned under him.

- Angel absolutely would have thought of contacting a dealbreaker, however never actually would due to how terrified he is. If it turned out one of those people were a mole for Val trying to catch him out, Angel would be in so much pain from the punishment that that would entail. You cannot trust someone claiming to be a dealbreaker in hell isn't lying to you through their teeth.

- When he realises you are absolutely serious though, and obviously confident in your abilities, a myriad of harsh emotions pass across Angel's face. Fear (for both his and your safety), and hope made themselves the most apparent.

- Fear of what Val would do to him if he ever found out about this conversation. What he'd do to you.

- Valentino was certainly not above hurting people to get his way. Angel knew that better then anybody. But if Val ever caught wind that Angel's secret lover behind the scenes was trying to steal away Val's biggest money maker and favourite toy, he'd kill you. Straight up.

- That fear was there and was deeply terrifying to him. But so was the hope. A flurry of hope that fills him with relief and brings tears pricking at his eyes at the idea that he could actually be free of his captor and go do whatever you two decide and be fully happy without fear of Val.

- Live with you not as Angel Dust, but as Anthony. Completely his real, authentic self.

- "How." He whispers breathlessly.

- You tell him that you need to see the contract itself, analyse all the ins and outs and come up with a counter-contract.

- There would be a few ways you could actually break the deal from there, and although they would be time consuming and possibly (very much probably) dangerous, you were confident you could break him out.

- Angel would be extremely fearful, but also hopeful. You seem confident in your ability as his contract is messy and poorly crafted. He's reassured as you say that what's mostly chaining him down is the psychological control Val has over him.

Alastor

- When you tell Alastor this, I feel he could respond two ways depending on how you've learnt that information.

If he hasn't told you himself:

- If he hasn't told you this or doesn't know how you've found out, he's going to be absolutely pissed. At you and probably Husk (assuming Husk told you)

- He'd turn towards you with jerky, unnatural movements, bones and joints cracking loudly in a cringe worthy way. Overhead, the lights would be flickering as static begins to fill your head.

- Towering over you, he'd be still bent in that weird position as he grips sharpened claws into your shoulders. Your friendship is the only thing keeping him from making you nothing more then a stain on the wall.

- "Who told you about that."

- When you tell how you've found out, he likely let's out a chuckle dripping with anger that makes you want to cover your ears as the sound scrapes into them. "And what makes you think you could do what even I cannot?"

- He has analysed every single last clause, letter, meaning of the words used, every possible loophole in his contract to the point it's driven him to have multiple psychological breakdowns. To him there is no doubt in his mind at all that he's completely fucked by the contract he was tricked into and there's no chance in hell that you would ever be able to even assist.

- When you push and say that you want to do this for him, he's not even a little flattered at all, in fact, it bruises his ego massively that you'd have the audacity to confidently imply you could do what he's worked so hard to for 7 years.

- In instance one, he's incredibly pissed off at you for claiming you could ever undo his contract after learning about it from someone other then him, so angry he almost kills you. Leaves you alone shaking and afraid in the hall telling you not to say anything to anybody else about his deal, and to never so flagrantly exaggerate your own worth so massively again. Your prior confidence stamped down to embers.

If you are close enough of a person to him that he's confided in you about his collar however:

- He'd just chuckle, calling it cute that you thought you could do that while walking away.

- You miss the way his eye twitches.

- He'd still be incredibly angry about it, but due to not being surprised you knew of his biggest secret, he'd hide it much better.

- Continues to laugh when you insist you can do it, and would passive aggressively respond about how you should not overestimate your abilities and mind your own business essentially.

- Again, he's pissed off and his ego is bruised about it. But this time, he's hiding it behind his smile and is passive aggressive as fuck about it rather then outwardly aggressive. He won't let you know how much you've actually gotten to him even though he would have let his walls down to some extent to ever tell you that.

A/N I was actually already planning a fully written x reader fic that's not just the dot points with Angel at some point where reader saves him from his contract, so like... Maybe I'll do full fics for dealbreaking Husk and Alastor's contracts as well because I'm kind of interested in exploring a fic w them after writing this now

(I'm probably gonna say this then eat shit via the universe straight after lmfao 💀)

#hazbin hotel #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #this was actually so cool to write thank you for requesting this one

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danse--macabre · 2 months

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unpopular astarion headcanons r.e. mirrors and reflections:

while I love the memes around this, I don't think, unless you had a particularly charismatic tav/durge, the whole party would draw him / contribute to some kind of spell where he could see his reflection. Obviously there's room for difference given how many routes your playthrough can take, but generally: he's not universally loved in the same way Karlach is, he's not the heart of the party, he's mostly clinging to the edge of it (and that's fine!)

I think showing him his reflection would impact him deeply and therefore if it is done at the wrong time/place, he'd actually resent the person who did it. this is because you're making him appear vulnerable.

e.g. if the venue is too public, if the others could see, he'd dislike the fact that others can see a moment of vulnerability

alternatively: if your approval with astarion is too low, he'd automatically distrust it / question your motives. this is someone who simply does not believe that people will be kind unprompted to strangers (because doing so violates his worldview and in some ways makes his abuse feel crueller -- if no one cares, there's a logic to what happened to him, at least)

the more permanent the method, the more effort put in, the more likely he is to have mixed/negative feelings towards it. a sketch is a kindness, but not one that requires a great sacrifice or planning - it's easy to dismiss as a fleeting gesture (while he will keep it, obviously, to look at, because he's not that willing to believe his own bullshit).

in contrast, if a permanent method of showing his reflection was given - e.g. a charmed mirror that casts a spell - I think astarion, with a high approval PC, would feel on some level obligated to pay that 'debt' back. astarion strikes me as someone who distrusts thoughtful, non-flippant gifts because again, he's used to transactional relationships.

I also think it might strike at an insecurity: the knowledge that astarion lacks autonomy/independence to deal with his own issues by himself, and, with some bitterness, is dependent on the PC to help him. if you give astarion an enchanted mirror, he, on some level, feels he is dependent on your magic and your supply of magical items to gain access to an element of his humanity. that doesn't entirely sit comfortably with him.

the "best" way to deal with this? let astarion figure out how to handle this himself. for example: gifting him a 'mirror image' spell scroll or something similar. give him time to study the scroll and he'll find a way to cast that spell himself. mechanically, astarion isn't a wizard, but narratively, his default class is arcane trickster, he has access to magic, I don't think it is really that much of a stretch to believe he could achieve that. in general, I think handing astarion the tools to achieve his own goals by himself will be more appreciated than handing that to him on a plate.

however! counterargument to consider: it may be more valuable in the long run to confront astarion's fear of dependence and the sense of reliance that exists particularly in a tav run, where you the PC have 'saved' him without needing to be saved in return. he needs to realise that the PC isn't expecting anything in return for friendship/romance.

either way, i think showing astarion his reflection is going to be more fraught than one might expect - a generous gift, obviously, he will take (he's been poor and starving enough not to turn it down), but there might be some tension beneath any show of gratitude your receive (or he might feign disinterest, if approval/trust is low enough!)

#astarion #bg3

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atinywriter · 4 months

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hidden treasure

[ kim hongjoong x reader ] [ pirate!au ] [ mermaid!reader ]

[ wordcount: 4.6k]

[ warnings: mild violence, suggestive tones, unedited for the most part ]

[ a/n: there were so many different ways i wanted to go with this but wanted to put out a semi finished form? i’m open to more fics in this universe for sure 👀 ]

The sharp glint of the silver bejeweled knife against the swell of a rotten man’s throat always made Hongjoong grin. The man in question was a lowly black market peddler, Willoughby, one that sold Hongjoong and his crew a lousy map that led them to a treasure that had already been taken.

“Given your history I really should have known better. Now here we are, my knife against your throat and your life in my hands. What are we going to do about that, hmm?” Hongjoong asks menacingly, pressing the silver blade closer to his artery. Willoughby swallows thickly, the sharp blade nicking his skin.

“How was I supposed to know the treasure was already taken? It’s not like I’m the one who took it. Look, I can give you another map, free of charge,” the cocky man barters, and a scoff sounds from behind Hongjoong.

“As if that could make up for the bullshit we went through, you rat. Just kill him, Hongjoong, he’s good for nothing anyways,” Seonghwa says moodily. He never liked this peddler and always felt like he was giving out poor information, it would be better to just not have to deal with him. The mission for the previously said treasure had gone wrong at every turn, ending up with their youngest crew member Jongho on light duty due to an injury he had gotten.

“Hmm, yes Seonghwa maybe you’re right. Why would I risk anything else when I could easily kill you and take all of your maps,” Hongjoong asks sarcastically, “Is there really nothing better you can offer me?” The heel of Hongjoong’s black boot crushes down onto the peddlers hand resting against the dirt, fingers crunching and a desperate howl leaves the peddlers mouth.

“Aish, okay I have something to offer you. My own secret cove that holds my personal treasures. I have a map in my right breast pocket. Take it and spare my life, I’m begging,” the peddler says, his eyes shedding a few tears. Hongjoong harshly pulls the map from his pocket, opening it up and looking at it. He didn’t see any locations marked, so he passes it off to Seonghwa to examine.

“You’re a lying rat now, huh? There’s not even any locations marked on this map,” Seonghwa snaps.

“I leave it unmarked in case it falls into the wrong hands, I’ll mark it for you, please just spare my life,” the man begs, voice breathy from the pain in his hand. Hongjoong giggles sadistically before pressing his heel further into the man’s hand, making sure to leave his mark before letting off of the pressure. Immediately after releasing his hand the peddler pulls it close to his chest, cradling it and crying silently. Hongjoong pulls a pen out of his jacket pocket, handing it to the man and holding the map against his own leg for the man to mark it. The man quickly draws an X in a little cove off the coast of a quiet, secluded tropical island. It was an area of the ocean known to be peaceful and quiet, not many ships sailing through. If this cove does turn out to be another lie, at the very least his crew will be able to relax on the island. Hongjoong kicks the peddler down onto his ass before getting into his face, a menacing smile taking over.

“If this is another scam, rat, we’ll be back for you, and you won’t live to tell the tale,” Hongjoong threatens and the man nods quickly, crawling back on his hands to create some space between them before darting up and running off into the towns busiest area.

“Finish up collecting your supplies in town, Seonghwa. We’ll be leaving before dawn,” Hongjoong says before turning and walking back down the dock towards the Illusion, the most mysterious ship on the seas. Hongjoong never allowed anyone who stepped on deck to live save for his crew, there were too many luxurious treasures hidden about the ship to risk someone catching sight of them.

The ship was quiet when he returned, most of the crew taking advantage of the docking to catch up on some well deserved rest. He can see Wooyoung scaling down the ropes from the lookout, landing beside Hongjoong with a quiet thump.

“Where’s Seonghwa,” Wooyoung questions.

“He’s just picking up the last of the supplies we need,” Hongjoong answers while pulling the map out of his inner chest pocket, “We’re heading for a little island off the coast of Fiji. Wake Yunho, Mingi, and Yeosang when you see Seonghwa return and we will depart for the open ocean.”

It’s not long before Seonghwa is quietly trekking down the boardwalk, arms chalked full of bags. He lets out a sharp whistle and patiently waits as Wooyoung scales from the heights of the crow’s nest to take half of the bags from him. The pair head into the galley, dropping off the bags to be unpacked by Seonghwa while Wooyoung wakes Yeosang, Mingi, and Yunho. Minutes later the sails were up and the ship was coasting on before the sun was glinting over the horizon.

A few days after some surprisingly smooth sailing, the crew were anchoring off the coast of the small island that had an untouched green jungle presented past the rich tan sands of the beach. A few of the members had pulled out some hammocks, excited to bask with the sun on their face and fresh fruit in their mouths. Yeosang and Jongho had been stuck with ship sitting duty, due to Jongho’s injury. Yeosang had been teaching the youngest member a game played with a deck of cards and had voluntarily stayed behind. The other members boarded their rowboat and quickly set off to shore.

Once tied off, the members split up into two groups - Mingi, San, and Wooyoung were setting up their hammocks and getting together some fruit and fresh water, ready for a relaxing beach day. Hongjoong couldn’t complain, he knew they had been in some exhausting conditions recently and he had no bad feelings about this island. In fact this was probably the most at peace he had felt on land in many years. The map had a cove marked not far off from the beach they had landed on, just a short trek through the jungle to their left. Hongjoong led the way with an impatient buzz, Seonghwa and Yunho following closely behind. Yunho whistled a tune as they walked, keeping the mood upbeat as the sunlight filtered through the dense green canopy.

As they neared the cove, they could tell that the rat of a smuggler had clearly left his mark in the forest, trash strewn about fire pits and random bits and bobs making a mess of a beautiful jungle.

“Looks like you should’ve killed him while you had him, captain. Nobody should be making such a mess of a pretty place like this,” Yunho says to Hongjoong as they’re locating the door to the hidden away cove.

The entrance was hidden by hanging ivy, the trio walking in together quietly. Hongjoong could feel his muscles tightening up slightly, a tell tale sign that there was some sort of magic in this cave, regardless of the stale wet smell blanketing everything. Looking over his shoulder, he connects eyes with the pair behind him and gestures for them to look around for anything of value. Neither of them had the connection with magic that Hongjoong did, albeit he only had a small connection it was more than anyone would consider normal. The pair seperated, looking at the homemade shelving systems and chests strewn about the cave.

“Well, would you look at that,” Seonghwa says with a mirthful tone, pointing out the treasure he had just uncovered from a dirty tarp. The same treasure that the lying smuggler had just sold them a map for, that they had gone through a tumultuous time getting to, that had gotten Jongho injured.

“The next moment we see him will be his last, I swear it,” Hongjoong says darkly. Yunho is gathering maps up from a table nearby, various areas with various X’s for treasure lining them. Hongjoong continues deeper into the cave while the other two take more looks around. He’s following the sizzle from the magic in his bones, the dim lighting going in and out and wet flooring squelching beneath his boots.

There’s a candle flickering on a small stand ahead, one that they didn’t light and could’ve been lit for who knows how long given the wax buildup along the stand. Hongjoong’s tense shoulders drop, maybe this was the magic he had been sensing all along - an always lit candle. He steps closer, his guard down for the time being.

As he’s nearing the light gives way to a large, sealed glass tank full of murky water. It’s about his height, the top and edges a rusted metal that had been poorly made. Clearly not something that was supposed to be here. Curiouser, Hongjoong squats near to the middle of the glass, eyes trying to get a look into the murky water. It almost looks like the water inside was slightly moving, tiny waves hitting the side of glass lightly. He swears he hears a splash as he’s squatting there, trying to get a look in and see whatever creature must be in there. Against his better judgement he leans in closer, lifting his hand up to lightly tap on the glass twice. The waves increase in intensity as he does so, and he thinks he sees shimmering white scales and a large fin swimming by swiftly. There’s footsteps behind him as Seonghwa and Yunho approach. They get in close and even go so far as to lean up against the lid, sending it barely sliding off the top letting a sliver of air and light into the tank.

Suddenly the creature in the tank zooms up to the sliver, and Hongjoong falls back onto his ass as he finally takes it in fully. It’s half woman half fish, an actual mermaid in the flesh. Hongjoong had been lucky enough in the past to catch glimpses of them, fins along the waves or eyes peeking over the calm water, but never to this extent. She was ethereal, he could feel himself being mesmerized by her at a glance. Her mouth was pressed against the open crack, gasping for air with her long dark hair streaming across her bare torso.

“Holy shit, captain. Is that a mermaid? An actual mermaid? God, she can’t even breath in that water,” Yunho is excited, pressing closer to get a better look. Hongjoong pushes himself up forcefully, anger seeping into him and his rage fueling the fire of hate he has for the lying scum who led them here.

“He’s got her trapped here, in a tiny fishbowl in the dark with no fresh air. I shouldn’t have let him go, he doesn’t deserve to breathe,” Hongjoong clenches his fist and squeezes his eyes shut, the regret taking over. He was here now, and he needed to do something to help her. He steps up to the tank, closer than Seonghwa and even Yunho. He goes to place his hands against the rusty metal lid of the ramshackle tank and as he moves so does she. Her eyes are wide, and she ducks down into the corner of the tank. She’s still in sight, watching them carefully to see what they’ll do. Hongjoong tries shifting the lid, but there’s something blocking the back corner making it too difficult to push farther than a foot. It was more space than she’d had before, but still not enough to be able to lift her out of the tank. He steps back a bit, keeping his eye on her as she swims up to the now larger gap. She lifts her head through, neck coming up but getting caught at her shoulders. She’s still scared, but her eyes give way to her curiosity.

“Hello there. My name is Hongjoong, and this is Seonghwa and Yunho,” he starts with pointing out his crew mates as an introduction, “We’re not here to hurt you, in fact I think we’ll be the ones to help you escape this nightmare. What’s your name?” The mermaid is silent for a few more moments, not wanting her naivety and blind trust to show too easily.

“My name is [Y/n],” she replies airily, “and just how exactly do you expect to get me out of here when you can’t even open the lid?” She taunts him lightly, wanting to test his patience and see the type of man he is. He does nothing but smile back to her, amusement at her immediate wit apparent. He calls over the other two and has them search for whatever they could use to pry it open far enough to get her out. They return with a long board and a crowbar along with an axe to hold it open once they pry the lid up.

“Alright, [Y/n], here’s the plan. These two are going to pry up the two sides enough to prop it open and slide you up and out, do you think that sounds alright?” Hongjoong knows when they lift the lid they must work fast, as the poor quality could cause for any sort of calamity. The mermaid nods and everyone gets to work. She swims up next to where they’re pulling up the edges, wanting this to be over fast. Hongjoong is there in front of her, their eyes meeting over the edge of the tank. He disappears for a moment to place a crate on the floor for him to stand on, giving him a better reach into the tank. He reappears in front of her, holding his hands out.

“They’re going to lift it up and then I’m going to help you out. Is it alright if I hold onto you while we get you out?” He asks, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“Yes that should be alright,” [Y/n] reaches out to him, her hand gripping onto his. His hands are warm to the touch, while hers are cold and starved for touch.

“Have you ever been out of water before? What happens when we take you out of here,” Hongjoong asks, mesmerized by her but worried for her safety.

“No, I’ve never been on land before, it’s quite exciting. I have no idea what will happen, let’s find out together,” [Y/n] says excitedly, gripping onto him tighter.

Hongjoong nods his head to Seonghwa and Yunho, indicating for them to lift. As the gap gets bigger he wraps his arms around where her torso and tail meet. He’s lifting her out when he loses his grip slightly, the crate underneath him cracking and sending his foot through. Hongjoong falls backwards, hands still wrapped around the mermaid, pulling her along with him. They land in a wet heap on the sharp rock floor, her landing on top of him soaking his shirt with her hair.

Yunho and Seonghwa release the lift on the lid as soon as they’re both out of the way, pushing it back into its original position to make it look as though no one had touched it. Their attention goes to the two in a pile on the floor, watching quietly as a slight shimmer runs over the mermaids tail, shimmering enough to blur it before lightening up to show a pair of legs instead of the scales and fin she was used to. Hongjoong removes his hands from her gently as she watches, she sits up and starts counting her toes and running her hands up her legs. Hongjoong is standing quickly, unbuttoning his damp shirt and taking it off before placing it around the now human looking woman’s shoulders. She looks up into his eyes with a deep smile on her face, her eyes full of excitement.

“Wow, I never thought I’d ever have legs like this. Please, can you help me stand up like the three of you,” [Y/n] asks, reaching her hands out to Hongjoong to lift her. He obliges, lifting her from her small waist to stand on her two feet like him. After a moment she looses her full strength and falls into him slightly, not used to the feeling.

“Careful, better to take it slow so you don’t fall down and hurt yourself,” Hongjoong says still gripping onto her waist, half her weight against him as they look into each others eyes. Yunho and Seonghwa exchange glances with eyebrows raised and smirks.

[Y/n] stands fully, stepping away from Hongjoong’s support. His hand seeks out hers at the loss of her waist, as she moves to take a few steps their fingers tips brush and they release each other, and a cold feeling sets into his hand at the loss of her touch. She finds her balance and is soon jumping and dancing in joy while the three men avoid gazing at her barely clothed body. Seonghwa pulls his bag off his back and retrieves a new shirt for the captain and a pair of trousers for the new human, which he also hands to Hongjoong to address.

“Is there anywhere you need to be? Anywhere we can take you,” Hongjoong asks while throwing the clean shirt on. [Y/n] stops prancing around the cave and comes to a stop in front of the tank, looking into it somberly.

“No, I don’t believe I’ve made any plans with anyone. I’ve got nothing going on. Oh, I suppose I told Josie the hammerhead I’d watch her new pup for her but that had to have a been a few months ago now…” she trails off quietly, thinking of the things she probably missed out on in her absence, “Looks like my schedule is all free for now, do you have any plans,” she turns around with a beaming smile on her face, pushing down the bad feelings. Hongjoong gestures for her to come closer, showing her the pants Seonghwa had pulled out for her to wear. If it were possible her smile got even brighter.

“I’ve always wanted my own pair of pantaloons! How exciting, it’s like i’m a real human now,” she chatters as Hongjoong helps her get into them, pulling them up her leg and buttoning them quickly before he let his thoughts wander too much. It was hard not to think of how soft her skin was, how it was smooth and unmarked to everyone’s touch, except for his now.

“Well, our only plan was finding all of the treasure that rotten Willoughby had stashed away here. Now that that’s all ours, we had planned to relax on the beach and eat good food and sing songs until we decide where to go. Would you like to join us and meet the rest of the crew?” Hongjoong asked her gently, not expecting her to want to come with them anywhere and instead want to go back to the open ocean, just like he’s always escaping to.

“There’s even more of you guys, oh wow I can’t wait to meet them. Please, take me with you,” [Y/n] grasps onto his hand, curiosity and happiness beaming off her in contagious waves. Hongjoong beams back at her, heating her up from head to toe. They turn towards Seonghwa and Yunho, who are getting the last few of the things they wanted this evening with them. They would bring a few more crew mates out here tomorrow morning to collect fully before thinking about departing from the island for their next adventure.

The walk back to the beach took longer than they’d expected due to the constant discovery [Y/n] was doing having never seen anything like the jungle before. She wanted to caress every leaf to see the texture and giggled exuberantly when a few butterflies were following her, landing on her arms and hand. Hers eyes were wide with childlike wonder, and Hongjoong almost felt jealous at her excitement to be on land. He had always had trouble with it, but he could understand considering this island felt more peaceful than any island he had been to before. The sounds of the forest were happy, and he could still hear the waves crashing against the beach a little bit away. He felt like it was easy to breathe here, and he wasn’t sure if that was from the jungle or the life that the mermaid had breathed into him. He watched her fondly as she experienced this new experience, while Seonghwa and Yunho trekked ahead to inform the others about the new guest.

It wasn’t long before [Y/n]’s curiosity changed from the environment to the possibility of new friends. She walked carefully along the path Hongjoong was making, stumbling slightly until he reached a hand out behind to grip onto hers to stabilize her. She continued holding his hand and walking closely as they neared the new people, feeling a bit shy. She could hear the chatter coming from the group, peeking over Hongjoong’s shoulder as they near. There were three new faces there, and the five of them had their eyes immediately on her as soon as they saw her look over his shoulder. Yunho and Seonghwa had encouraging smiles on their faces, while the other three portrayed disbelief and confusion. Hongjoong pulls her from behind him to stand at his side, hands still clasped but using his other hand to point out each of the new people.

“[Y/n], this are my friends and crew mates. The tall one next to Yunho is Mingi, the one between Mingi and Seonghwa is San, and the one on the end is Wooyoung. Everyone, this is [Y/n], and she’ll be joining us for the time being,” Hongjoong introduces everyone as they each wave at their names. [Y/n] tugs him excitedly along the beach to get near the new additions. They were all dressed so interestingly, all different styles and accessories. That was always one thing she’d heard gossip about from the members of her community, land people fashion. Accessories were easy enough to come across in the ocean, all sorts of rings and diamond earrings. But clothes were more difficult, they were either damaged from age or accident, and they never quite looked as good underwater as on land. She quickly pulls Mingi’s hands into hers and admires his rings.

“I love your rings Mingi, they look so cool. I had a ring that looked just like that one once,” she chatters happily as she pointed to a skull and crossbones ring on his middle finger. Before Mingi could even reply, she was darting off to stand in front of Wooyoung, getting in his space as she examined the earring he was wearing.

“Wooyoung, that earring is so cool, look I’m wearing one that could match it! I found it in a shipwreck a little while before that awful Willoughby snatched me up. Look,” she pulls her dark hair back over her shoulder as she lets him take a look at the identical earring in her right ear. Wooyoung’s hand goes up to his left ear, feeling the earring he hadn’t taken off in years.

“Funny story about this earring actually. I had a friend when I was younger who had a pair of earrings that he found in the sand while digging around- beautiful gold hoops with a pearl dangling down. He offered one to me and we each wore one to show our deep friendship for each other. My friend passed away a few years ago in a shipwreck, while he was wearing that earring. Maybe you found the one that was his,” Wooyoung explains, feeling somber at the memories. He hears sniffling and looks up from his thoughts to catch [Y/n]’s eye, full of tears and a sad look on your face.

“That might be the saddest story I’ve ever heard Wooyoung, but it must be fate that brought us together, I found it for you,” she says as she’s tugging it out of her ear and placing it in his hand, closing his fingers around it and placing her hand on top of his. She gives him a soft smile as a tear drops from his eye, before he pulls her in for a tight hug.

“It’s a surprise that Willoughby didn’t take it off of you when he snatched you up,” Hongjoong says, coming up next to them and placing his hand on her back lightly.

“Well, he tried once or twice. But my friend Josie, the hammerhead I told you about earlier, she taught me to bite anyone who got near my face if I didn't want them to be there,” [Y/n] explained cheerily.

“Some sound advice from Josie, I like her already,” Wooyoung says with humor.

“With introductions here over, how would you feel about coming onto the Illusion and meeting the last two before having a nice warm meal. Yeosang said he would be cooking a hearty stew this evening,” Hongjoong questions. [Y/n] feels as though this is the adventure she’s always been looking for, and is more than delighted to experience these new things with Hongjoong and his crew.

After that it was easy to bond with the crew, and even easier to bond with its captain due to the crew’s appreciation for her. She met Yeosang and Jongho respectively, who were nothing but welcoming. They traveled together for a while building friendships with each of them, before the captain formally invited her to become a crew member aboard the Illusion. Accepting immediately, she shared in many adventures with the crew, on land and sailing the seven seas.

The entire crew was astonished when one day she jumped into the water off of the crows nest, a daunting feat. The crew panicked momentarily as they hadn’t seen her resurface quickly, worrying for her life. As the entire crew was leaning over the railing, the captain getting ready to leap in after her, she suddenly resurfaced, leaping from the water with a shimmering pearl-like tail that took their breath away. The joy and happiness radiating from her clung to them like glue, leading them each to jump into the calm waters and play in the ocean for a while.

The sun was setting when the captain mustered up his courage to swim over to the mermaid. She was fiddling with seashells and seaweed in her hands, creating what looked to be a makeshift crown. As he approached, she turned to him with a smile and offered it out to him. He happily placed it upon his head, although crookedly. [Y/n] giggles as she swims right up to him, adjusting it on his head. Hongjoong’s hands grip her waist like the first time they had met, gently but pulling her towards him. He’s looking at her with red cheeks and parted lips, before leaning down and placing his lips on hers.

“I’m really happy you didn’t bite me,” Hongjoong jests.

“Why would I bite the person I’ve wanted in my face since I was rescued by them,” [Y/n] jokes back before connecting their lips together again.

They shared their first kiss under the pink and orange sunset and in the calm cool waves that they both loved, but many more followed in all sorts of interesting scenarios.

#ateez #atz #ateez fanfic #ateez au #ateez au fic #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x reader #pirate!au #/mine #ateez imagine #atz imagine #atz au

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rafedaddy01 · 1 month

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I saw you across the room

Summary: you walk into Rafes parties and the moment he lays eyes on you he knows he must have you.

A/N: rafe Cameron is definitely the type of person to have a soft spot for you, but only show it when no one else is around

You’re not really up to this party, your friend dragged you here because she had just broken up with her boyfriend and needed “emotional support”. Which really just meant drinking her sorrows away.

To be honest you weren’t really the type to go out to parties. More of the type to stay home and read a good book while petting your cat in bed, a home body. A girl who usually kept to herself. Although you knew there was a party being thrown almost every single night, this was figure 8 after all, you never found fascination in reality like you did when you would read.

“Ariella, I really don’t wanna be here” you whined and stomped your foot into the ground like a kindergartener refusing to go to the first day of school. “And this outfit-“ Ariella was your friend since grade school, she was so much more out going and confident than you and you have no idea why she chose to be friends with you but your lucky to have her. She chose your outfit tonight, a mini black dress with the cleavage cut practically down the middle. You always had big boobs and were told they were your best feature but you weren’t the type to expose your body like some other girls would. You liked being reserved, and you were happy in your own little bubble. “Girl, stop being like that! You look hot. And we’re gonna have fun tonight, please”

You rolled your eyes but let your friend drag you inside the tannyhill mansion. You knew she needed this. Despite putting on an act of toughness, you knew she was actually devastated about breaking up with her boyfriend. Ariella was the type to cry about it alone, but in a crowd she’d usually be the one cheering everybody up while dealing with her inner demons. And plus she’s put up with so much of your bullshit you figured she deserved a night of fun.

“Oh my gosh we’re gonna have so much fun tonight!” Ariellas face beamed as she scanned the room, finding her inner circle. “Go get us some drinks, I have to say hi to some people” she let go of your hand and there you were. Standing alone, in the middle of some strangers house, wearing the skimpiest dress you owned.

Rafe couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you. Who were you? He’d never seen you before. He sure would have remembered if he’d fucked you. He’s probably been in every pussy on his god awful island. But you. He’s definitely never seen or been inside you, yet.

“Yo top” he nods his head in your direction, your in the kitchen pouring some drinks, “whose the chick?”

Topper eyes you up and down, “never seen her before” he goes back to explaining why basketball is better than football to some poor sap and dismissing rafe.

“Interesting” rafe says under his breath as he fixes his SnapBack and stands to make his way to you.

“So many drinks” you mumble to yourself as you skim the bottles lined up on the table. “Wonder which asshole this place belongs too” you scoff as you top off the two cups in front of you with some tequila.

“That would be me” your started as a voice speaks up behind you. Turning around you find a boy with a childish smirk on his face, wearing a SnapBack hat that you shouldn’t find so attractive but he makes it work, and a polo shirt and some slacks, typical figure 8 style. “The names-“

“Rafe” Ariella speaks up before the boy gets a chance. “Y/n, where have you been. I’ve been looking everywhere for you” Rafes face turns sour as he looks at your friend and then back to you. “You told me to get us some drinks” you raise the two solo cups, giving one to your friend. “Don’t even think about it” Ariella takes the drink and steps in front of you and rafe, giving him a death stare before turning around and dragging you off.

“What was that” you ask confused as she continues dragging you through the crowd, “just some asshole looking to get laid. Don’t let him even talk to you, y/n. Seriously, he’s not worth it”

As the rest of the night went on you got more comfortable, having had a few drinks and mingled with some of Ariellas friends.

You can’t help but feel like you’re being watched and every time you look up your eyes lock with Rafes. No matter where you were in the house you could feel his eyes on you, your body, your face.

It made you uncomfortable, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your insides turn with excitement.

You were never the type to get attention from guys. There would be some that would talk to you, but they were only after one thing and although you’ve had sex before, it was never meaningful. You’ve never found anybody who cared for your feelings and actually wanted to take the time to get to know you before.

But looking into Rafes eyes something felt different. Sure maybe he also wanted you just for your body, but it also felt like there was a connection, something pulling your body’s together. And the fact that he was hot was just a plus, you’ve never been attracted to someone this bad before.

“I’ll be right back” you lean over to your friend who’s busy talking to some guy to really hear you. You know you shouldn’t leave her this drunk and vulnerable with some rando but you’ve had to pee for so long, you couldn’t hold it anymore.

You finally found the bathroom, doing your business and washing your hands before stepping out, only to bump into a broad body that smelled like whisky mixed with sandalwood, “so sorry-“ you excuse yourself.

“No worries, I was hoping we’d run into each other” that same childish smirk on his face. “I’m rafe, I’m sure your friend told you a little about me. But I’m not all bad, trust me” he winks and your insides melt. Why are you so attracted to him? From what Ariella told you he’s a douch bag, a sleeze who’s slept with almost every girl on this island, and yet you want him to do unholy things to you.

You clear your throat before talking, “ha, well she did tell me some things, but uh, I usually like to judge people based on my own opinion.”

Rafes completely mesmerized by you. He’s never seen a girl more beautiful, and he’s been with many. There’s something about you that’s caught his attention but he can’t figure out what. All he knows is that he’s seen you, and now he has to have you.

“Right, well what do you say we go somewhere more private and get to know one another?” He cocks an eyebrow at you, he can tell you wanna say yes but you’re worried. “Hey, no worries. I won’t try anything, promise” he throws his hand in the air to show you he won’t touch you. You can’t help but let out a small laugh and that sound alone has rafe melting. Your voice is like an angel and he wants to know what other sounds he can get out of you.

“I can’t just leave Ariella alone. She’s had a few drinks and she’s with some random guy.. I want to but I can’t be a bad friend” you start to walk away and Rafes heart aches, he doesn’t wanna let you go yet.

He looks over at where your friend is, she’s making out with Kelce, rafe smirks to himself. “Trust me, she’s in good hands. Kelce is a buddy of mine, he won’t do anything to her” he turns back to you, a waiting look on his face. And when you nod your head yes his heart all but does back flips. He can’t wait to get to know you better.

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv

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atimeofyourlife · 1 year

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Steve struggled with telling the difference between platonic and romantic feelings for others. If he had to pinpoint it, it would start in his childhood.

It started with his father bringing the new assistant, Rebecca, to Steve's fifth birthday party.

"She's a nice girl. She'll be a good friend to the family." Richard Harrington had said, dismissing his wife's disapproval.

Steve didn't think anything of it until he was sent to find his father before the cake was served. He found him in the study, with Rebecca perched in his lap as he kissed her.

"Don't worry about it Steven, we were just being friendly," Richard said as he shooed Steve from the room.

It got worse as Steve grew a little older, and the lines kept blurring in his friendship with Tommy and Carol. They all hung off each other throughout their childhood, holding each other's hands and hugging for comfort whenever needed. Practising kissing when they hit fifth grade, Steve and Carol, Tommy and Carol, Steve and Tommy.

Once Tommy and Carol started dating in seventh grade, the line blurred even further. Steve had thought it would be the end of whatever they had been doing, but it wasn't. When he was single they'd let him join them in making out. And it went further as they went through their teens. Carol was the first girl who let him touch her boobs. Tommy was the first person to give him a handjob. They were where he learnt how to eat out a girl and how to suck a dick. He was a little bit in love with both of them, but after every time, one of them would assert that it was all a part of friendship.

"What are friends for?" Tommy had laughed before walking off with his arm around Carol.

He thought it changed with Nancy. He fell in love with her, hard and fast. Even after the Upside Down happened and Barb died, he thought it was real. He was devoted to her, and would do anything for her. He apologized to Jonathan, and replaced the broken camera. He dropped Tommy and Carol, no longer allowing himself to blindly follow their cruelty. He kept up with basketball, baseball, and swimming, but also threw himself more into his academics. Taking his classes more seriously, trying to set himself up for a good college. Attending regular dinners with Barb's parents. Doing what he could to support Nancy through her grief.

Every time she stated her love for him, he felt a warm flutter rise in his stomach. He started planning a potential future together. Getting engaged sometime after Nancy graduated from high school, maybe after a year or two. Getting married once she was done with college. Having kids at some point. He wanted to be a present and involved father, everything his own father wasn't. He'd be happy to be the stay at home parent, so Nancy would be able to follow her journalistic ambitions. But it couldn't last.

"Bullshit." One word shattered everything. Her words of love had been a lie. Everything between them had meant nothing to her. He tried to apologize and make it up to her. He could do better and change for her, he had before. It didn't matter, because she was running off with Jonathan before their relationship had really ended.

It felt different with Robin. Steve felt more comfortable around her than he had around anyone for a long time. She wasn't like how other girls treated him. Only interested in his name or his looks, or his family's money. Robin made fun of him and his constant poor luck in getting a date, but it didn't feel mean or cruel. It wasn't a hard and fast fall, like it was with Nancy. It was more gentle, building slowly as their summer at Scoops went on. An alliance forming in solidarity of working food service in embarrassing costumes, all while having to deal with the worst the people of Hawkins could throw at them.

And then the Russians happened. Steve felt the love and care he had for Robin grow, watching her use her talents to translate and crack the code so quickly. Her taking his side to allow Dustin and Erica to escape. He couldn't allow more harm to come to her, so he fought to keep the Russians' attention on him. Not caring how badly hurt he was, as long as she was safe. They were thrown back together and drugged, and everything became a blur until they were on the floor of the men's bathroom.

"But Tammy Thompson's a girl?" In his drugged mind, it took him a moment to realise it meant she couldn't love him in the way he thought he loved her. The love still burned, but softer. Stronger. His other half, but in a different way. A new best friend. Almost like the sister he'd never had.

Eddie was a reckoning. Steve had been aware of him for so long, it was hard not to be. His reputation as a dealer, starting to sell weed at parties sometime during Steve's freshman year. His walking on the lunch tables, giving speeches about conformity and talking down to anyone whose interests didn't align with his. Steve never thought they'd be friends, let alone anything more.

But spring break happened. Vecna happened. Eddie was thrown into the mix of the Upside Down. Forcing Steve to at least play nice for a while. But it was easy with Eddie. Even amid the panic and fear, Eddie was easy to talk to. Walking through the Upside Down, heading for Nancy's house for her guns, Steve began to feel... something? Steve pushed it away, he'd made the mistake so many times before. Was it friendship, or was it something more? He wrote it off as it having been a while since he'd really had any close male friends around his own age. And what he had going on with Tommy wasn't the picture of a normal friendship.

He tried not to read into the flirting in the RV. Brushing it off as Eddie trying to push his buttons, or trying to get comfortable with him. The warmth he felt at any contact, he pushed it as his head getting confused. The pressure of the Upside Down, with the threat of the world ending, again.

"Hey, Steve? Make him pay." Eddie's words made him step back closer. He wanted to grab him, hug him, kiss him. Instead, he just reached out and zipped up Eddie's jacket.

"What's the point of having a jacket as protection and basically armor if you're going to wear it open," Steve grumbled, before turning to walk off with Nancy and Robin.

When it was over, Eddie was minorly injured. It would have been much worse, even fatal, if he hadn't had his jacket zipped. He just had to have the wounds cleaned and stitched. Steve's injuries, being much worse and exposed to the toxins from the Upside Down for much longer, landed him in a hospital bed in a private wing that Owens and his team set up.

Steve had a constant stream of visitors, but Eddie was one of the most frequent, alongside Dustin and Robin. And he found himself falling a little further with each visit. Eddie's stories and jokes and flirting just pulled him in. He allowed himself to flirt back, knowing it was the most he'd get. It was probably just Eddie's way of being friendly.

It all changed after Steve was discharged from the hospital, after Eddie had graduated high school. They spent many summer nights together, smoking, talking, flirting. No pressure. Steve found it nearly impossible to keep his feelings to himself, but he didn't want to have yet another rejection where he'd read the situation wrong. Confusing friendship with romance.

"Tell me I'm not the only one feeling this?" Eddie asked, handing the joint over to Steve.

"Feeling what?" Steve didn't want to assume, to get his hopes up. But the way Eddie phrased it, it made it hard.

"This. Us. The flirting. There is something here, right?"

"I- I thought I was the only one. I thought I was getting friendship confused with more again." Steve admitted quietly.

"Well, big boy, I'd never want just friendship with you." Eddie moved in closer, before Steve closed the distance to initiate their first kiss.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #atimeofyourwrites

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ohtobeleah · 11 months

Text

Sticks & Stones // A ToE Blurb

Summary: The one where Rooster finds out about the time you absolutely let loose on your daughter during her teenage hellion years while he was on an eight week deployment. And the one you find out you weren’t the only one who kept parenting secrets.

Warnings: Angst. Teenage hellion Odette Bradshaw. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Platonic Rhett Abbott x F!reader.

Word Count: 4k

-> Fade away from reality with the Terms of Endearment series here

I think throughout your parenting life together you and Rooster keep certain things from each other. Not out of spite or with malice intentions. It would be to simply keep the other from spiralling or needing to worry about a situation that had already been dealt with. That had already been handled appropriately and most likely to a parenting degree that would be deemed acceptable by the other party.

“I remember this one time mum tore shreds off me after I got an after school detention.” This one can be titled: “The one where Rooster finds out about the time you absolutely let loose on your daughter during her teenage hellion years while he was on an eight week deployment.”

Odette Fitch knew it wasn’t just because of the after school detention. She was big enough and grown enough to understand her wrongs as a teenager—but that didn’t make the pill any easier to swallow.

“I've never seen her like that before nor do I ever want to see her like that again.” Odette explained all the while she sat by the fire— burning bright orange and red embers in the fire pit Chase had built, explaining how Harrison, her threenager, got in trouble for kicking dirt in some poor kid’s eyes during free play at daycare. “I didnt understand why she was so mad, why she was so emotional but fuck dad–I get it now.”

“I don't think I know about this one?” Bradley shook his head softly as he took a sip from his beer bottle. “When did you get an after school detention?” Odette can't help but to chuckle, of course you hadn’t told him. You went off like no tomorrow which wasn't like you at all. Your tolerance for bullshit was usually pretty high–but that particular day Odette and her teenage antics had pushed you to a limit that even scared you. It was no wonder you never mentioned it to Bradley.

So, Dot spills the beans, she finishes her beer and settles a little further into the back of her camp chair and lulled her head to the side to tell her dear old dad about the time she saw you burn in.

Fourteen Years Earlier:

“When your father hears about this Odette you better count your lucky stars that he doesn't ship you out to Wabang or better yet, Australia!”

“It's not that big of a deal mum–” Dot trailed in behind you with her school bag slumped over her shoulder. She was too cool for school nowadays. “Everyone does it!” She’d been busted by a teacher, skipping P:E in favour of an excursion to the lake that bordered the school grounds. There was an old cabin out there one of the groundskeepers used to live in way back in the 70’s. Apparently it was haunted. Dot didn't think so. But she wanted to check it out nevertheless.

“You are not everyone, Odette, you are your own person with bodily autonomy and critical thinking skills and you should know better!” The consequences to Odette's actions had been a call from the principal's office in the middle of the day. You were beyond furious about being pulled away from work, work you were inundated with. What followed was a lengthy discussion with the schools guidance counsellor about your daughter's declining behaviour during class and her grade averages. Odette was smart; she just didn't apply herself–or just didn't see the point in doing so.

“Uncle Jake said you hated school! Said you hardly ever showed up and that when you did it was to work on stuff in the metal room.” Odette thought she had you backed into a corner as you stopped and turned on your heels. “Yeah, I know things.” It was then you pressed your lips together in a fine line and wished Jake was currently in the US to feel your wrath. But he wasn't. No, He was in Townsville Queensland. In fucking Australia. It said so on the google calendar that sat on your kitchen countertop. The one everyone used.

“Your uncle is a liar.” He wasn't. You hated school, it was hard being the smartest person in the room and feeling like you knew nothing all at the same time. You were a delinquent at best during your teenage years so the fact you had a teenage dirtbag yourself shouldn't have shocked you all that much. It didn't shock Jake that was for sure. The apple didn't fall too far from the tree he’d tell you when you'd call him just to rant about Odettes’ latest attempt at sending you to an early grave. “And we aren't talking about me, we’re talking about you and your grades and the fact you have an after school detention on Wednesday that I now have to leave work early to come and get your from when you know I work late Wednesdays!”

There was a small pause in the argument that had begun to bubble over and before you knew what was happening—Odette was challenging you without hesitation.

“Oh i’m so sorry you have to leave work, not like you spend enough time there anyway!” Dot hissed.

“Enough young lady, your father and I work hard to give you a good life.” That much was true—you never wanted your kids to grow up like you did. You’d do anything to keep a roof over their head and food in their mouths and keep clothes on their backs.

“Maybe if Mr Carson wasn't such a tight ass–” Dot mumbled under her breath as she sighed and rolled her eyes. This sucked. Everything sucked.

“Don't you blame anyone but yourself for this situation, Odette.” You pointed a stern finger at your daughter. “And be thankful it's me you're dealing with now and not your father, he’d be livid if he knew.” And then, Odette Bradshaw said it. For the first time ever she said something that tore your heart from your chest, rung it out like a wet sponge before discarding it in the trash.

“How can dad know about it!” She shouted. “He's in prison, remember?” Silence, Odette heard nothing but silence. No “Go to your room young lady.” or “You’re grounded.” Silence was all she heard as you stood there speechless trying to process what your daughter had just said to you. Odette took your silence as a leverage point, she thought she’d won the battle but decided to twist the knife a little deeper just to see how far she could push this new rhetoric. “Rooster isn't my real dad, so he doesn’t get to have a say in what I do and don't do.” Again you were speechless as you stood there with wide eyes trying to regulate the way your heart thumped against your chest. “And he's not even here mum! He's in the middle of the damn ocean somewhere so empty threats aside, I think I'll take my chances when he does come back.”

Odette really did think she had you beat when you didn't say a word. She smirked, reached for her school bag that she'd dumped by the leg of the table and slung it over her shoulder before turning on her heels. It was then through a haze of rage and repressed emotions that you let your daughter, your first born, the first love you had ever known, have it.

“Oh–fuck you kid!” You snapped through gritted teeth. Odette had never heard you swear before, let alone heard you swear at one of your three kids. “Fuck you!” When you said it again Odette just scoffed in shock. She was in utter disbelief.

“Did you really just say that?” She asked softly, confused.

“Yeah–yeah I really just said fuck you, and I mean how fucking dare you.” There was a rage behind your eyes Dot had never seen before. A sadness. “ After all I have done, after all that I have given to you, my life, my love, my body!” You paused as you stepped a little close to your daughter. “I broke my fucking vagina for that big fucking head of yours!” You spat, it was too much for Odette to compute as you spoke with venom lacing your tone. “And I had to be surgically sewn back together, I bet you didn't know that, did you? Well guess who does know? Your uncle because he was there! Not your fucking father!”

Odette didn't know that, She always just assumed that her dad had been there when you gave birth to her. Why wasn't he there she wondered? Why wasn’t he there to watch her be born?

“Oh and you calling him your dad, that's rich considering you have never known the man! So rich when the man who is your father, who is your dad in all the ways that matter most loves you so unconditionally that he adopted you as his own!” You were on a warpath and Odette was your target. “After all those years of your ‘father’ driving me insane with his abuse and his condescending ‘my loves’” You paused to hold back tears as flashes from your past played out like a rolodex behind your eyes. “He talked to me like I was worthless, treated me like trash until I got sick of it!”

“Mum?” Odette tried to interrupt as tears began to stream down your cheeks.

“I wanted happiness Odette–” Was all you sobbed. “I deserve happiness! I’m a fucking human being Dot!” You tried to pull yourself together because this wasn't about you or what you wanted. You were a selfless mother who gave everything you had to your children and this was the most vulnerable any of them had ever seen you.

“Don't you dare bitch to me about my career, little miss ‘I’m so progressive!’ Yes! I worked my ass off to get where I am and I wanted it.” Flashbacks from the time Jake and your own guidance counsellor helped you graduate flashed before your eyes. They believed in you when most people didn't. When you didn't even believe in yourself.

“I wanted to mean something in this world! I didn’t know that was a fucking crime!?”

“Mum–” Odette was at a loss for words but nevertheless she still tried. You didn't let her speak. You weren’t done yet.

“Life isn't perfect, oaky baby? We don't get everything we want. But you’re young, you know, so go on, go make the perfect little life that you want and you see how fucking easy it is and stop bitching and complaining and blaiming me! after all I have ever done and all I will ever do has been in your best goddamn interest.”

It was Odette's turn to stand in silence, unsure of what to say back to you after your rant. It was clear she broke your heart—that much was evident, but Odette was too hot headed and knew what she thought was everything she ever needed to know. After all, she was fifteen.

“I’m—“ As Dot when to speak, you held your hand up in order to silence your daughter. She hated the tears that streamed down your face as you refused to look at her. “Mum?”

“Go to your room, I’ve got to go get your brother and sister from school.” Without another world, it was just Odette left in the big house that usually houses five souls at any given time. She felt sick to her stomach for upsetting you so much.

But as she heard the car start in the driveway she knew she wouldn’t apologise for it. You’d be fine. You were her mother—you had no choice but to love her even when you wanted to kill her.

Present Day:

“Now before you whoop my twenty nine year old ass, I did end up apologising and I did go to that detention and I’ve since learnt my lesson.” Dot scrambled to get all that out before Rooster had a chance to lean over and wrap his hands around his daughter’s throat.

You’d never told him about that, Rooster never would have known if his daughter didn’t spill the test fourteen years later. And even if fourteen years had past Bradley knew that you probably thought about that fight a lot.

“Your mother was right kid, I would have throttled you.” Bradley shook his head in disbelief, it was fourteen years ago but he was only finding out about it now. He felt like he was the last to know. He should have known, right?

Later that same evening when Bradley made his way home, he opened the front door to the smell of something homely simmering away on the stovetop. Homemade chicken and feta pesto pasta. One of his favourites.

The portion size had dwindled from five to four to three to two back to three over the years, with kids grown and flying in and out of the house without a second's notice. But the one thing that always remained the same was the love cooked into the food you prepared for your family. No matter how little or how much.

“Hey Roo.” You beamed as you took a sip from the glass of wine in your hand. You’d just finished cleaning up the kitchen after having used every possible surface available. “How’s Dot doing?”

“She’s good, Harrison’s giving her a little trouble but she’s good.” Bradley explained as he made his way over to you. “But—she actually told me a little story about a fight the two of you had?” It was the taunting tone your husband used that made you immediately feeling hot in the cheeks. Bradley wasted no time in trapping you between the countertop and his torso, with strong arms encompassing you. “The one where you—“

“No she didn’t!” You cupped a single hand over your mouth with wide eyes when the realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. “That little shit head I swore her to secrecy!” Bradley reached for your glass of wine, he took a sip before he pressed his lips together and leaned in to kiss your cheek softly from behind.”

“You never told me—“

“I didn’t want you knowing I swore at her.” You admitted. “You were deployed and I didn’t want you worrying about us at home and—“ Before you could finish your sentence, Rooster spun you around in his hood and had his lips on yours as he pressed you up against the kitchen counter top. His hands were firmly on your hips, holding you close to him lovingly.

“Before anything, I am a husband and a father first baby.” He reminded you as he let his forehead rest against yours. “I know why you didn’t tell me, and I’m not mad you didn’t because you handled it better than I probably would have—“ Bradley explained as he pushed your hair behind your ear. “But I wish you didn’t have to deal with those very real and very valid emotions by yourself.”

You paused for a brief moment, smiling up at your loving husband and the aroma of his favourite meal consumed the two of you.

“Well if it makes you feel any better baby I wasn’t entirely alone.” You explained as you got to work plating up a bowl of pesto pasta for your husband.

Fourteen Years Earlier:

What Dot didn’t see was the panic attack that overcame you to the point you had to pull over on the side of the road to let it take its course. Memories of that fateful night and that bloodied devil-like smirk flashed before your eyes. Even after all these years the mere mention of your ex brought you to your damn knees in a crumpled heap. He was a monster.

With Bradley deployed and Jake overseas a world away in the land down under, you reached for your phone and called the only person you knew would answer your call the first time round.

“Boys!” Rhett’s loud and boisterous voice travelled down the hall. He was standing in the kitchen making his seven year old boys lunch. Turkey and cheese on wholemeal bread. “Quit fuck assing around, come get your lunch!” As Rhett flung the tea towel over his shoulder and started to pack up the mess he’d made making lunch for his boys—he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. A loud thud came from the living room just around the corner—then? Complete and utter silence. If Rhett knew anything about his kids it’s that when a thud is followed by silence it’s usually not a good thing. “BOYS! you better both be alive when I round that corner!”

Rhett threw the butter and the block of cheese he’d mangled with a less than sharp butter knife into the fridge haphazardly before he kicked the fridge door shut with his boot. He wasted not a second of time, he needed to investigate the silence now shrouding the farmhouse. As he walked he fished his phone from his back pocket to see your name lighting up his caller ID. ‘Ace.’

“Hol’ on—m’ parentin’.” Rhett mumbled as he swiped the pad of his thumb across his screen and held his phone to his ear. Keep it there with his shoulder as he rounded the corner to see one of his twins, Liam, laying on the ground with his eyes closed. “LUKE!” Rhett bellowed into the phone, for a second it made you laugh because Rhett and parenting in the same sentence still made you smile. “What did you do to your brother huh?”

“He fell!” Luke ran out from behind the lounge and down the hall. “I didn’t touch him!” Rhett groaned in defeat as he scooped his son off the ground to make sure he was still alive. Yep. There was a heartbeat and breathe inside his lungs.

“I’m fine, I just need a minute—“ Liam mumbled. “And to not fix fences this afternoon.”

“You ain’t dead, dying or debilitated.” Rhett chuckled as he watched Liam side on the couch with deflated shoulders. “Go eat your lunch and find your brother before I do.” How the fuck was Rhett Abbott a dad? “We’re heading out at two.”

Liam groaned as he flung himself off the lounge and headed on into the kitchen. It was then Rhett exhaled a sigh and turned all his attention back to you—still waiting patiently on the other end of the line. “How much do you think I could get for two feral seven year olds?”

“Probably a little more than a fifteen year old delinquent.” You replied softly as you sat pulled over on the side of the road with your hazards on and your forehead pressed against the steering wheel. “I’m sending her to live with you.” Rhett chuckled as he sat on the lounge and held his phone up to his ear.

“What she do this time?” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for you and Rhett to call each other to discuss your children’s antics. Being separated and a co-parenting dad with two twin boys that hardly knew what he was doing, more often than not it was Rhett calling you. But on the odd occasion you called him? It made him feel validated in a sense that it was okay to not have everything under control all the time. “Y/n? What she do this time?”

“We were arguing about how she got an after school detention—“ You explained only a few details. “And then she hit me with the Bradley’s not her real dad argument when I said she was lucky he wasn’t here to reprimand her.” It knocked the wind right out of Rhett’s lungs. “She’s fifteen! I’m not ready to talk about this yet! She can’t know Rhett—she can’t—she—“ Rhett could tell by the rapid breathing and the panicked tone coming through the phone that you weren’t okay. He looked over to the little digital calendar in the corner of the living room that you all had and saw that Bradley was still on deployment for another two weeks.

“Ace, listen to me?” Rhett tried his best to console you as he rubbed a hand across his tired face. “You don’t have to tell her, no one will ever force you to tell her anything you don’t want her to know, but she’s a smart kid man—she’s gonna figure it out eventually.”

“Fuck you Rhett—“ That wasn’t the reaction Rhett was expecting but nevertheless it forced a chuckled from his chest. “You didn’t see the way she dug that knife in, she knew what she said and she meant it too.”

“Kids are brutal, teenagers are the worst.” Rhett replied. “It’s sticks and stones Ace, be the bigger person and just let her have this one.” You knew Rhett wasn’t invalidating your feelings, he was just giving you level headed advice.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nah—“ Rhett smiled with half his mouth as he watched his boys come back into the living room with their sandwiches. Both sitting in front of the TV to watch something Rhett could only assume was mind numbing. He wasn’t allowed to watch TV as a kid, but he wasn’t about to be like his father. “I’m serious, I think she won this round, but just because she KO’d you doesn’t mean you won’t get back up.”

“I hate you, you know that right?” You groaned into the phone. “Jake would have told me to take the door handle off her door and leave her in there for a week.” You knew that Jake would have been serious too. “I should have called him for moral support, not you and your rational responses.”

You needed level headedness though, you needed someone to pull you back from the edge of a full blown parenting breakdown and of all people it was Rhett Abbott who did so. He smiled to himself because he knew you’d be okay, he knew the tears had slowly begun to fade and he knew that when you got home? You’d still love your shit head of a daughter.

“That’s exactly why Hangman doesn’t have kids.”

Present Day:

There’s a barely twenty one year old emerging from his room right about the time Bradley has you sitting on the countertop while he stands between your legs. If anything the Bradshaw kids were exposed to public displays of affection more often than most kids were but that was because they had parents who were oh so in love.

For Nicky Bradshaws who’s home on a rare visit between trips overseas and dedicating his entire life to the sport he loved so much, the fact he watched his parents suck faces often throughout his childhood never made the sight any less gross.

Nick stood dead in his tracks as he watched his father stand between his mothers legs with his tongue in her mouth like he was starved of oxygen. He let his presence be known by clearing his throat.

“I still technically live here, you know.” Nick side eyed the two of you as Rooster stepped away to let you down from where he had you perched. It wasn’t a kiss laced with lust—but it had been a kiss filled with love for the woman who had built her own version of a perfect life. “I think I deserve to be able to use the common areas of the house without needing lasik after losing my vision after having walked in on you two getting in on.” Your youngest pointed between you and Bradley. “Y’all have a bedroom—use it.”

“It wasn’t like that honey.” You tapped your son on the chest. “Here, have some dinner before your father eats it all.”

“I heard Harry kicked dirt in some poor kid's eyes today.” Nick chuckled at the way his oldest sister had rung him up in the car. “Can’t say he isn’t hers now—“ Bradley laughed along with his son as you deadpanned the both of them. The look you sent them shut their laughter up real quick. “Oh come on ma! Admit it, she was a handful teen and you know it.”

“You weren’t perfect either Bud.” Rooster had your back before you even needed to defend Odette. “I still remember the time I caught that girl sneaking out of your room when you were fifteen—“ Immediately, before the sentence was even finished, Bradley knew he’d fucked up.

“What girl?” Your eyes went wide. “Nick? When did you have a girl in your room when you were fifteen?” Throughout your parenting life together you and Rooster keep certain things from each other. Not out of spite or with malice intentions. It would be to simply keep the other from spiralling or needing to worry about a situation that had already been dealt with. “Bradley? What girl!?” You hissed as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“It’s a long story Ma.” Nick replied with a mouthful of pasta.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not busy.” You turned to your husband who looked like a kicked puppy. He kept things from you too. And he kept this one from you for a good fucking reason—Nick had begged him to for his own safety.

Nick knew you’d throw sticks and stones at him if you found out he lost his virginity when he was just fifteen.

“Spill the beans boys.” You willed the pair of them to sit at the table. Nick shook his head in defiance with a mouthful of pasta.

“No thanks, I chose life.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse e @avaleineandafryingpan @phoenix1388 @xoxabs88xox @je-suis-prest-rachel @pono-pura-vida @rosiahills22 @starset21 @anarchyrising @caidi-paris @starkleila @criticalroleobssedperson @enchantingdreamergothprune @flrboyd @emma8895eb @endofdays56 @seresinsaint @topguncortez @mandylove1000 @clancycucumber230

#terms of endearment// bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw series #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw top gun #bradleybradshaw #rhett abbott x reader

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tiddygame · 3 months

Text

hello im sorry i wrote more for @myriadblvck ’s streamer au ghoap

I time travelled and around 4,000 words magically appeared in a document titled: "you didn't juju on the fucking beat soap" I think I was possessed by something. anyways here’s that:

tw: is it a panic attack? is it just typical ghost angst? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just be careful it's mostly fluffy (ghost is mean to himself cause he almost kissed soap on the forehead)

also i just realized after i wrote this whole thing, this is based on my general knowledge of dog tags… as an american. writing about the british military. so if you know your shit about the british military, uhh sorry in advance. my bad. from a very brief search i think a lot of it’s the same or at least same enough but this might hurt for people that know a thing or two. whoops!

fun fact: did you know for a brief stint (iirc, >40 years from around 1960s to 2010ish) the american military was printing soldiers’ ss numbers on their tags? yeah can’t imagine why they switched back to serial numbers.

Ghost had been pacing outside of his office for three minutes before he actually entered. When he did, he didn’t say a word. Just sat down in one of the chairs, fidgeting. It wasn't that uncommon of an occurrence, he was normally either gathering his thoughts before talking to Price about something more personal or hiding from what/whoever he didn't feel like dealing with.

When it came to mission debriefs, he was clear and concise. However, personal matters were a different story, and based on the way he anxiously opened and closed his hand, he'd guess this was a personal matter.

Price didn’t ask. He knew that whatever it was Simon needed to say would come out eventually. For now, he continued filling out paperwork and trying to figure out what it was that had Ghost so worked up.

Honestly, there wasn't much guesswork involved. Chances were, it was probably yet another leave request. He knew from Gaz (who was such an awful gossip he sometimes wondered how the man made it through interrogation training) that Simon had been visiting some social media person he had taken a liking to.

(Look, yes, Price knew about Twitch and live streaming and everything. He’s not actually that old. However, as long as he kept up the front of the old man who complained about the keyboard on his phone being too small, he didn’t have to deal with social media. Sure, it caused all of them to joke that he was geriatric and on his last legs, but he was able to convince Roach that he doesn’t know what TikTok is, meaning he wasn’t in charge of reviewing all the bullshit he and Gaz posted. A fair trade if you ask him.)

He also knew that Gaz was convinced the two were in love to the point that he and Roach had a bet going to see when they would get together. Price thought it was rather stupid, but he had to admire their ability to keep it under wraps; if the lieutenant found out they’d been placing monetary bets on his love life, he had a feeling he would need to find replacements for the 141.

Regardless, Price hoped that one day Simon would tell him about the friend but, until then, he was happy to fill out any paperwork that would get the poor man off base. God knows that idiot needs a vacation.

Simon was bouncing his leg, messing with his fingers, and staring off into space.

Three of his nervous habits at once? He must be even more worked up about this than Price thought. But, he was a patient man. It was about seven minutes of companionable silence before Simon spoke.

“I need replacement dog tags. I seem to have lost mine.”

Price looked up. He could see the chain around his neck and the outline of them still under his shirt.

"You do?" Price shuffled his documents around, eventually finding a blank piece of paper he could write on.

"Yes sir."

“And do you know what happened to them?”

“I believe they were knocked off during the fight from the last mission. I didn’t notice until later that night when we were back at base.”

Price paused and looked up from where he had been writing.

The last mission had been an odd one. Ghost normally stuck further away, their eagle-eyed lieutenant typically stayed at long to mid-range, watching for hostiles and making sure whoever else was in the field wouldn’t get caught off guard by someone they hadn’t seen.

During the last mission, he decided to engage at close range, a far cry from his usual approach of sniping hostiles from the shadows.

At one point, their lieutenant had been tackled and almost strangled. The fight had pretty much ended, his attacker was the only one left there. Ghost, being The Ghost, dispatched him with ease, but it stuck out to Price. Ghost may prefer to stay further back, but that didn’t mean that his hand-to-hand combat skills were lacking by any means.

He remembered thinking at the time that it was a clumsy mistake, that Ghost would have had to be intentionally trying to fuck up to get knocked down. He assumed the man had just been caught off guard, but he knew that theory wouldn’t hold up to any scrutiny. Ghost isn’t one to get caught off guard.

What was stranger yet still was Ghost specifically pointing it out in his mission report, calling even more attention to it.

Price set his pen down and leaned back in his chair.

“You planned this?”

“I plead the fifth,” said the British man.

Price just continued to stare, curious to see if this was actually going where he thought it was going.

“Is this off the record?” Simon eventually asked.

“Of course,” almost everything the 141 did was of dubious legality. Not reporting a conversation about possible wasted assets was far from the worst thing that had been swept under the rug.

“Then yes.”

“Why?”

Simon didn’t answer. Price waited, giving the man time to gather his thoughts, but based on the way his mouth opened and closed before he slumped in his chair, it seemed he didn’t know what to say at all.

Price had an inkling he might know what this was about.

“You know, Gaz likes to keep me informed,” Ghost looked up at him, somewhat panicked yet resigned, like he already knew what Price was going to say.

“He tells me you have a certain someone you’ve been visiting?”

“Yes.”

“Is this person a friend or…?” Ghost once again paused, calculating the potential consequences of his available responses.

He didn’t answer.

“Hmm,” Price paused, wondering how far to push before he continued, “You want to give this person your old dog tags?”

“Yes.”

Of course he would pre-plan “losing” his dog tags. Price mentally chuckled, leave it to Simon to be such a sap that he wanted to give someone his dog tags yet still make sure to follow protocol so he never actually risked going without them.

He had to hand it to him, it wasn’t a bad plan.

Price had a smile now, knowing his grumpy hard-ass lieutenant had a sweetheart he wanted to be sappy with.

“Romantic or platonic?” Price tried again.

“… I don’t know,” he’d never seen Simon look quite so… forlorn.

Hmm… That would explain his hesitancy.

He was pushing how much Simon was willing to divulge.

“And does this person know the significance of you giving them your dog tags?”

Well, curiosity killed the cat…

“No, they don’t.”

…But satisfaction brought it back. How interesting, the plot thickens.

“Do you plan on telling them?”

There was a long pause, after which it dawned on Price, “You want to give them your dog tags because they don’t know.”

It wasn’t a question, he already knew. Simon somehow slumped further, attempting to hide his face as if he weren’t wearing a balaclava.

His grumpy hard-ass lieutenant. Absolutely smitten with someone yet too shy to say anything, deciding on a quiet confession, one they likely wouldn’t pick up on.

Price chuckled, jotting down the necessary information he would need when he got his hands on the right paperwork, polishing up some of the details of Ghost’s story to make it more believable, before reading off what he had written to Ghost to make sure he got everything right. Ghost nodded once, and that was that.

“Replacement tags will probably be here in two to three weeks.”

“I would like to request leave for two to three weeks from now.”

Price handed him the form, having already grabbed it. He noticed how the man seemed to calm at just the thought of getting to visit his mystery person.

Oh, he thought to himself.

I am definitely joining Roach and Gaz’s bet.

<><><><>

They were lying on the daybed in his streaming room, or, well…

No, that’s not quite right.

Simon was lying on the daybed.

Johnny was lying on top of Simon.

His computer was still softly playing quiet (non-DMCA) music from where his stream had just ended. Instead of turning it off, he had decided to unplug his headset and leave it on, the music just loud enough to be heard.

Simon was sleepily scrolling through his phone, trying to pretend like he hadn’t almost dropped several times while dozing off, desperately trying to stay awake. Johnny had watched his struggle and decided to lay down right on top of Simon, not even trying to pretend like he was trying to fit on the remaining space on the daybed. Why would he when Simon was right there?

It was meant to be a joke, having thrown himself on top of him to annoy the man into sleeping on an actual bed (he claimed he wasn’t tired but the comically loose grip on his phone and the waking world said otherwise.) However, unfortunately for said sleepy man, Simon was very, very comfortable.

His head was resting on Simon’s chest, arms under his back like he actually was just a pillow, one hand reaching higher to feel where Simon’s hair had begun to grow out slightly.

I wonder if he would let me help him cut it…

Simon had said he was like a clingy cat, his free hand running through his hair in the same manner one would pet a cat to prove his point. The joke's on him though, he likes it.

Simon had tried to stop but Johnny didn’t let him, threatening to tickle him if he did.

(“I’m not ticklish, I just don’t want you throwing a tantrum.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say,” he was definitely ticklish, and one of these days he was going to prove it.)

At some point, Simon had given up on keeping a grip on his phone, letting it drop to the side. They would probably have to go digging through the cushions to get it out of whatever crevice it had fallen to. As of right now, the idea of ever leaving his spot was comical at best.

The sun had begun to set, orange and pink tinted light filtering through the sheer curtains, making everything look more like a dream. Or maybe it was just the proximity to the man below him that was making him feel so serene.

Johnny took a second to inhale and exhale slowly, appreciating the moment. He hoped that this memory, this beautiful tranquility with Simon, would be something he cherished for a long time to come.

He knew that they had things to do. Soon, Simon would be catching a flight at some ungodly hour, headed back to save the world yet again. But for now, he was happy to nap away in their own little bubble. He never was a religious man but here in the arms of Simon Riley, he was tempted to think heaven was real, and that it was right in front of him.

“I almost forgot,” Simon mumbled, not sounding any more awake than he looked, reaching up for the collar of his shirt. Thankfully, the hand that was running his hair remained. He didn’t like proving the cocky bastard right, but he probably would have thrown a tantrum had he tried to remove it.

“They had some fuck up along the line or something and accidentally printed me an extra set of dog tags. I was just gonna toss ‘em but thought you might want—”

Johnny was now wide awake, sitting up and yanking the chain out of his hands.

“Don’t you fucking dare throw them away, of course I want them!” Simon’s face reddened, a frequent treat for Johnny now that he had gotten more comfortable going without the mask. Simon might have been good at keeping a poker face, but without his mask, he was a blushing mess.

He wondered if the blush was from his obvious jubilation at the gift or if it was because he was now straddling the man. Such pesky details, however, (even ones that would keep future Johnny awake at night) were far less important than examining the necklace in his hands.

It was obvious this was the older set, the metal worn and dented in some spots though the writing was still clearly visible.

“Calm down, I’m not going to take it from you,” the gruff tone was severely undermined by the aforementioned blush. It was hard to sound tough while half asleep on a daybed and being used as another man’s pillow.

Johnny stared at them for a little bit longer, feeling every dent and wondering the story behind how they got there, before putting them on.

He smiled at the man under him, “How do I look?”

He was going to joke, asking if he looked like a rough and tough soldier ready for war, but something in Simon’s eyes made him stop short.

He was looking with… with… Reverence was far too intense of a word for the softness of the moment but it was the only word that came to mind.

Simon reached up with his hand, grabbing the tags, his knuckles grazing his chest.

Well, that’s just fucking unfair.

Simon was supposed to be the blushy one. Not him, goddammit!

Though, he thinks when they make eye contact, they end up tied for who is blushing the most. They stare for a while, maybe it should have felt awkward but it was too adoring for either to feel any form of uncomfortability.

Neither moved.

It was Johnny that broke first, smiling at him, yet again tracing all of the scars he could see. It was his new favorite hobby, especially when Simon would blush making the scars on his face all the more visible.

He took one more second to sleepily appreciate the man before him, then went back to using him as a pillow. His hands went back to where they were before, one under Simon’s back and one playing with his hair. His head, however, did not fall back to his chest, instead resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

Simon’s hand returned to running through his hair, his other now coming up to rest on his back, rubbing up and down a few times before the sleepiness from earlier fully returned with his hand stopping somewhere around the small of his back.

Johnny leaned up slightly and gave a chaste kiss to the part of his neck that he could reach, then settled back to where he was. The hand in his hair paused.

“Thank you, Simon.”

A second of delay, and then the hand continued.

“You’re welcome, Johnny.”

Simon shuffled slightly, getting comfy before—

A kiss, on his forehead.

He couldn’t stop the blush and smile if he wanted to. He snuggled closer before drifting off to sleep.

When he woke, he was in his bed, practically tucked in. His window had been opened slightly, blackout curtains that had been drawn closed now swaying slightly with the breeze. When he focused, he realized he could smell petrichor and hear heavy rainfall outside with the occasional grumble of thunder.

There was a note on his nightstand. As he expected, it was Simon’s handwriting, apologizing for not waking him up before he left. It said that he had made breakfast for him (pancakes, with enough for when his sister would inevitably try to steal them), that he made sure to lock the front door, and left the window cracked.

He giggled sleepily at the last line. Regardless of the context, it always made Simon anxious to have the curtains open, much less to leave a window open. But, he also must've known how much Johnny loved the rain and set his worries aside, just this once, so he could wake up to the rain.

He set the note down and flopped back onto his pillows, his hand felt something cold and he remembered.

The dog tags.

John MacTavish is no stranger to crushes and heartbreaks.

He's had high school sweethearts, been in and out of love, he knows his way around the world of dating. Which is why he most certainly does not squeal and kick his legs while holding the tags like some kid with their first crush.

He did it like a grown man, thank you very much.

He grabbed his phone and sent Simon the worst pun he could think of; it was tradition at this point to send him some god-awful joke before his flight.

Simon has probably already forgotten about the whole exchange. He probably woke up and assumed he threw them away when he noticed he wasn't wearing them. It was probably stupid, an insignificant gesture with no meaning. But to Johnny, it felt like everything.

He sighed dreamily at the ceiling and felt the cool metal once more. Thunder roared outside. He thought about how he had felt in the man's arms. Thought about how much he wanted that again.

God.

His phone dinged and he immediately reached over to grab it.

I'm fucked, aren't I?

<><><><>

Elsewhere, Ghost was in an airport terminal, having far too much time to think.

Over the weekend, it was almost impressive how many times Ghost had talked himself into and back out of giving Soap his dog tags. He really hoped he hadn't made a mistake.

Simon felt the spot that Johnny had kissed and wondered if he remembered it. Wondered if he had meant it.

Simon thought about how Johnny had looked cradled in his arms when he carried him to his room, the way he had reached out for him when he laid him in bed. The way he had grabbed his wrist and clung to it, grumbling when Simon tried to pull it back.

If asked, he'd say that he had woken up late and that's why he was so far behind schedule. He'd keep the part where he sat there, kneeled in front of Johnny's bed, waiting for him to fall back into a deep enough sleep to pull his arm away all to himself. After all, it would have been rude to wake him up, no?

He had made sure to plug up his phone and, upon seeing the forecasted weather, hesitated before opening the window. It was only barely cracked, just enough for the sounds of the outside world to shamble in, but not so wide as to worry about water damage. He stared at it, convincing himself not to worry and that Johnny would like waking up to the fresh air.

He turned back to make sure the man was still asleep, still comfy, but stopped for a moment. He approached the bed and hesitated before running his fingers through his stupid haircut, almost wishing the man would grab his arm and give him an excuse to stay.

He didn't. Simon did, however, lean in to give him one last kiss on the forehead as some stupidly sappy goodbye, before his brain turned back on and he ripped himself away.

What the fuck is wrong with you? What? He grabs your arm in your sleep so you feel entitled to be able to kiss him?

Simon backed away, staring at the hand that had just been in his hair. He felt dirty.

For fuck’s sake, relax. It's not that big of a deal, you did it earlier; the man fell asleep in your arms, a forehead kiss isn't too much of a stretch.

He went to the kitchen and scrubbed his hands for a while, only stopping when he thought about how much water he was wasting. He still felt dirty.

Not a stretch? You don't get to decide that. How would you feel if someone tried to kiss you while you were unconscious? If they said that they felt they should be allowed to do so because you fell asleep?

He had started making pancakes. Something quick, easy, and reheatable for when Soap woke up. Like making him breakfast would make up for trying to kiss him in his sleep.

Why can't you just be normal?

Eventually, and after a run-in with Soap’s hell-spawn of a twin, he had to leave. The time on his phone showed that he should probably already be halfway to the airport by now but he has always been a selfish man.

He had snagged some paper and left Soap a quick note, hoping the apology would make him feel better about worse sins than not waking him up. It didn't.

He stared at the man for a second, admiring him, before he reminded himself that he was a fucking creep and left.

The storm left the flight delayed by 1.5 hours. Ghost had sat waiting, wireless headphones on and connected, but not playing anything. He had far too much time to think.

Simon thought about how Johnny had looked, his dog tags around his neck, silhouetted by the fading light, the sun behind his head as if even the stars knew they could never compare to him.

He stood and started pacing. Amongst the screaming children, feuding families, and people who think they're entitled to listen to their music without headphones, one middle-aged man having an existential crisis didn't stick out.

He thought about how he had never understood weighted blankets so well until Johnny had thrown himself on top of him. It should've hurt. He should've been annoyed. Instead, Simon selfishly hoped he would never get up.

It took him a while to put his finger on what he had been feeling exactly. Finally, he realized.

There, in that moment, he had never been so happy to be alive. It was a startling emotion to discern amongst the swath of negativity he normally felt. It startled him so much, he had snapped out of his reverie and stopped short in his pacing. When he checked the time, he saw he had one missed text from Johnny.

Soap (art streamer): i was trying to think of an airplane joke but none of them landed

Simon chuckled and sat down; he almost forgot about their dumb little tradition.

Ghost: Disliked.

Soap (art streamer): everyone is so mean 2 me 💔

Ghost: It is not my fault your pun was so Boeing.

Soap (art streamer): well i thought i could wing it

Ghost: Did you look up what giving do-

Ghost: About the tags, you

Ghost: I think you make me want to live

Ghost sighed and fell back further into his seat, coming to a conclusion that his subconscious had long ago discovered.

I'm in love, aren't I?

Soap (art streamer): speechless huh? finally, the Wright reaction to my comedic genius

Ghost: Absolutely awful, Mactavish.

Soap (art streamer): :D

Took you long enough, dumbass.

<><><><>

Soap’s twin spent a good bit of time staring at her brother's new accessory.

“Is something wrong?” he challenged, hoping she wasn't in a bothersome mood.

She failed miserably at hiding her shit-eating grin but didn't care.

“Nope!” she replied.

She had run into Ghost early that morning before he left.

"Detergent."

She was pretty sure he never even learned her name, just jumped straight into calling her detergent.

"Ghoul," she greeted, glaring at the man.

Being required by law to not trust him, she checked on her brother as he was still gathering his things and noticed the necklace.

“You gave him your dog tags,” she accused, like she was framing him for murder.

“Yes, I did,” he replied casually, as per usual robbing her of the fight she so desperately wanted to pick.

“Did you tell him what it means?”

“...What does it mean?”

Damn, he was good. If she wasn't convinced that he was the devil incarnate, she might have fallen for his feigned ignorance.

“100 bucks and you buy my silence.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“200 then.”

“It doesn't even mean anything.”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose you might be right… JOHN!” their neighbors were probably going to complain.

“What the fuck are you doing?” ooh he was getting panicked now.

“If it doesn't matter then you won't mind me telling him to look it up,” she started walking to his room, “JOHNSON!”

“Fucking Christ, woman! Just— Fucking— Here.”

He pulled out his wallet and started counting bills. Damn, that was easier than she thought.

“What did you say? 100?”

“Nope! That was before inflation. Now it’s 300.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You said 200!”

“So you admit you tried to scam me?”

“Just take the 100 and g-”

She didn't even get to yell, he reached for more before she could finish taking a deep breath in.

“Just shut the fuck up! Here! Three fucking hundred!”

She was tempted to raise her price further, but she was no gambler, she was a strategist. She knew a defeated man when she saw one. If she played this right, she could extort money out of him for a long time to come.

Something, something, vampires not fully killing their victims and all that.

She took the money, counted it, and then held out her hand to shake.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wraith!”

He didn't shake her hand.

“Christ, both of you are awful.”

He packed his stuff and left, broke, broken, and defeated.

She ate as many pancakes as she could, rich and victorious.

She thought about how much power, how much blackmail she had in this moment.

“I’m fantastic actually,” she walked to her room.

I am going to be so fucking rich by the time they get their shit together.

#ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #streamer au #streamer! soap #streamer!soap #streamer! au #ft. Old Man Price and Chronic Shit Stirrer Twin Sister (unnamed)#ghost never changes soaps contact name #my version of ghost in this au has convinced himself that he's nothing more than an incel/neckbeard #and that's why he is the way that he is #[I know my mess of 'family hcs' or whatever was derailed to shit but I still think ghost would call his twin detergent]#i’m scheduling this for when i’ll be asleep so goodnight i hope you all sleep well and drink plenty of water #my writing

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emsgoodthinkin · 4 months

Text

As long as I’m with You

Steve Harrington x You (short)

Summary: Steve wakes up to another bad night you’ve had this week

Warnings: hurt/comfort, talks of poor physical and mental health, doctors, suicidal ideation, medication use, drug use, chronic health issues, BPD if you squint, disabilities, use of the word “girl” x times, negative self talk, mentions of sex, angst, fluff~~

This is based off my own experiences and inspired by my pal Morgan’s version; feel free to check hers out

Tick tick tick

The clock strikes 12 and then 1, 3, 5am in the morning, no sleep no rest it’s an every day cycle. The same shitty cycle.

It’s a new year, but not a new you.

Sitting in your walker in front of the excruciatingly bright television screen, high as a kite, everything in existence running through your mind 100 mph, sometimes the weed helps the pain. Sometimes it induces it or even makes it worse. Right now it’s doing nothing for you. Looking over at your loved one sound asleep. You don’t want to bother him with your whines or crying. So you just sit there silence, tears rolling down your cheeks; while you watch some bullshit on YouTube.

Sniff Sniff

“Baby?”

Shit.

“..yea?” you say in a whispered tone

“Are you ok? what’s wrong?”

“Ah, you already know”, you’ve used that line probably over a million times

Steve comes along your side expecting a few dried tears, but his eyes widen when he’s sees the collar around your shirt bitten, snot dribbling down your mouth and throat, crouching down, he lies his head onto your thigh looking up at you, “Talk to me sweetheart”

“No.”

“Hey, I know you’re hurting”—

“GOOD FOR YOU! Congratulations you know I’m hurting, you know I’ve been hurting for fucking years. I’m glad you’ve acknowledged it unlike some people”you sniffle getting up in a hurry to take a piss as he follows with sad eyes leaning against the door frame

“I’m fucking tired, I’m so goddamn exhausted nobody will ever know what I’m dealing with!”, you say wiping your ass not bothering to wash your hands, “I can’t do anything I can’t run, I can’t jump, can’t go to the stupid, fucking grocery store without one of those motorized carts.. my back hurts, my fucking knees are throbbing, stupid fucking nerves won’t calm down FUCK! It’s not like I can get in the bathtub to calm my muscles down. Nothing is helping! No medication, no PT, no injections, no nothing! Why?? am I just resistant to any source of help or treatment? I-I can’t even lay in the goddamn bed to sleep. That’s all I have left is rest!! What is rest!? I don’t know what the hell that even is”

“I know baby I know”—

“NO YOU DONT STEVE, all you know is what you see. I wouldn’t wish on our worst enemy, my worst enemy to feel what I feel. That’s how bad it all hurts. The most evil, sick and twisted person in this world, I would never wish this upon. I just..”, getting dizzy you collapse on the bed sobbing into your own hands, then eventually into Steve’s shoulder as he rocks you, tears spilling from his own eyes—

“Nobody cares, nobody wants to help me. nobody cares unless I’m rich and can afford to give them any and ALL the things off my back, but I can’t. Even with the money you make it will never be enough to help the poor girl who’s too young to have any kind of issue. It’s “all in my head” I’m just fucking crazy. I could break my own neck and still be told it’s only from anxiety. Nobody cares just”—

“I care” he exhales

“It doesn’t matter if you care, all your care is useless, all your help is worthless to me because it gets me nowhere. Nobody’s love and care gets me nowhere. It’s nothing all but fucking false hope. Don’t you get that? None of you still to this day seems understand that. Stop praying for me to get better. It’s never going to happen. I can’t take it anymore.. I just wanna die! All I wish for is to die but, I can’t even have that. It’s like all of you want me here, to live and suffer for the rest of my life for y’all, it’s not fair, fuck that”, your trembling, body in fight or flight

“Don’t say that, you know I’d do anything to take your pain away”

“It doesn’t matter what you’d do because you’re not a doctor. You’re not a professional, you can’t help me get better.. sucks to hear but it’s the truth Steve..fuck”—

Steve’s really trying not to beat himself up over your words, he knows you’re in pain, it comes from a place of anger, frustration and fear

“I have all these pain medications I could easily take all at once, so I’ll never have to wake up in this position ever again. Why can’t I do it huh? I could end right here right now you never have to suffer again, but I just d-don’t; If anything, I’m the most selfless person for staying alive for YOU just so I can be alive but in pain all over again for YOU!”, your tone getting higher and higher in pitch

“I-I’m sorry.. I wish I knew the right words to say baby”, he’s trying his best to stay strong for you

“You’ve got to be sick of me, tired of me. All I do is cause more money to come out of your pockets, more exhaustion, more burdening, more crying, more everything bad for you. You already deal with your own shit. I do nothing but make your own mentality worse, hell you’re making your own self worse being with a person like me. A broken and useless excuse of a human being. You deserve somebody who can go hiking with you, go to the beach, travel with, who can do the bare minimum. Can’t even fuck you properly—

“STOP! Stop that right now” he shouts

You freeze because he’s never raised his voice at you, atleast not on purpose at such a vulnerable time

“I hate it too. You know it hurts me to know that you hurt and I’m sorry that I can’t take the pain away from you. My sweet, sweet girl I’m so sorry that nobody has given you the chance to hear your voice, to help heal you..but I’m gonna make you the same promise I make you almost every single night. As long as I’m with you, I will try my best with all my power to make it a little bit more bearable for you to be here, and I am so grateful that you are still here and choose to be here with me for us to be together. I know you hurt, but as long as you’re with me, I’m going to do my best to put a smile on your pretty face, beautiful sunshine of a smile because you’re my sunshine.. y-your smile gives me life did you know that?”

You nod. He tells you all the time

“I- I’m tired for wishing to feel ok for my birthdays, every Christmas. All the shirts and posters you got me for Christmas? I haven’t even touched them yet, you know why? Because the selfish person in me doesn’t give a fuck about none of it. The only thing I care about and want and NEED is pain relief and that’s too much to ask for isn’t it? Apparently wanting to be better in the world it’s too much to ask for”

“You deserve to feel better”, he says while his hand travels up your back to rub your tense neck, “You deserve to be free from all of this and I can’t give that to you. You’re not selfish baby you’re hurting. I love you for you. I knew what I was signing up for, and if I didn’t want that I wouldn’t be here right now with you. I know the sacrifices Ill have to make, the tears I’ll have to shed, the strength it’ll take me to pick you up when you’re down, but I fell in love with you, how you are, and who you are”

“Who are you kidding Steve, you don’t even know who I am. The real me. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I wish you met me when I wasn’t sick then maybe you wouldn’t be so stressed out a-and.. and,” you start sobbing again, it’s all too overwhelming

“Hey, hey look at me, no. I met you at the right time. You need me just as much as I need you. You may not think you’re worth nothing but you’re worth everything to me. Yeah you have a good and bad days..—

“I’ve had nothing but bad days for the past few months Steve”-

“I know, I see it, I hear it and I witness it, I may not can feel it, but at the end of it all, you still love me. You’re still here. You still want to cook for me. You still get up to brush your teeth and I’m so proud of you for still trying to care for yourself. That’s the biggest job you’ll ever have, and it’s been a very hard job hasn’t it?

You nod, as he nods with you

“Yeah, it has, but you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I want to provide for you. I want to take care of you. You’re my girl, you deserve so much and as long as I’m with you, I will try every day, every hour, every second or minute, to make sure you know how loved, how great and how amazing you are. How great and amazing you’re doing for yourself and for me. How strong you are”—

—“im tired of having being strong all the time”, interrupting him

“I know you are. You are so strong for being on this earth, even when you don’t want to be. I wouldn’t ask for anybody else, you’re it for me always. Will you continue to let me try to make it better for you every day? To take care of you?”, he squats in front of you, cupping your wet cheeks, kissing your forehead

“But Stevie.. you know you’re getting your own hopes up because nothing you do helps either and I feel like a piece of shit for saying that because”—

“I know what you mean, you don’t have to be sorry. I understand you may not have hope but I do. All my Hope goes towards you and it always will. You are the most important thing in my life. I’m not gonna give up on you, on me or on us, ok sunshine?”

..”okay”, you repeat rubbing your temples

“Head hurt, darling?”

“yes”

“From crying too hard?”

You nod, looking away in shame, “It’s okay, I’ll get your Migrane cap from the freezer and i’ll set your pillows up how you like, just sit tight”, he says it standing then pausing at the doorway, looking over his shoulder, “I love you”

“luv you—

“Hmm? What was that, I couldn’t hear you” he exclaims

“I said love you gosh.. shut up”, you barely crack a smile

That was enough to get him through the rest of the night.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x disabled!reader #steve harrington x ill!reader #tw sui talk #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #tw sick mention #mental health awareness #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x chronically!ill reader #steve harrington x sick reader #steve harrington angst #stranger things #joe keery #chronic pain issues #bpd #spoonie

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thefallennightmare · 5 months

Note

Did you see that Noah's deleting all his socials and his youtube videos?? I'm so sad 😭😭😭

This is my personal view of it:

Good for him.

This poor guy has been dealing with so much bullshit the last few years and unnecessary hate, I'm honestly not surprised. Nothing was posted on his pages, so I don't understand why some people are so upset. I'm not trying to be rude; I swear!! It's just the way I see it.

With how the rock sound interview got blown out of proportion, I'm honestly not shocked. Maybe he was hurt by what he read and decided to clear himself from all social media. Who could fucking blame him? In the year I've followed him on Instagram, he only ever posted one thing: the picture of him and Keaton with those lyrics. Which you have to think he was in his feels deeply for posting that.

I get being sad, I do. But if people are going to be upset about a choice, he made about himself/mental health, that's bullshit. We should all care about his mental health and if being off social media is what he wants, then let him. I'm not upset about the socials, I'm sad for Noah that there's a chance he could have been bullied off of socials.

I read someone say on Twitter that if Noah deleted his Instagram he would be an "idiot" because that's where they promote their tour. Um, no. That's what Bad Omens Instagram is for.

Maybe there's a chance he could be doing this as a "rebrand" for the new album but I highly doubt that.

These hateful fans continue to push and push him, and soon he'll dig himself deeper into the hole. And they'll only have themselves to blame.

Noah is doing this for himself, no one else. We should respect that.

This isn't "white knighting him". This is somehow who is hurting on the inside for someone who has been constantly ridiculed, had his words twisted into negativity, stalked constantly, and scrutinized under a microscope for no reason what's so ever.

Again, I'm not trying to be rude, especially to you anon! I just want to say my personal view on this situation.

#tina talks #noah sebastian #bad omens

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gravity-barbie · 1 year

Text

The Hargreeves meeting someone else with powers HCs

Request

Tw: Mentions of stalking and alcohol

Set: pre or during season one

Masterlist

Luther Hargreeves

-Luther takes it incredibly seriously when he accidentally stumbles across you using your power, he would report back to his dad if he was still alive, but since that’s not an option, he thinks he can at least use the opportunity to prove his leadership

-He’s almost naive in approaching you, expecting you to follow his instructions even though his own siblings don’t even do that, and though his intentions are good his poor communication could easily scare you off

-But even if the first interaction doesn’t go so well he doesn’t give up, trying to get answers from you and hopefully even make something of a honorary umbrella out of you becomes like a mission to him, it gives him a renewed sense of purpose

-It doesn’t occur to him to immediately tell his siblings, and when he eventually does he insists he’s got things covered, and to be fair he is growing on you more and more every interaction as you realise he’s actually harmless, just endearingly inept

-Luther trusts you pretty quickly, so before long he’s insisting you attend academy meetings, and in an instant your normal life turns into warnings of an incoming apocalypse and the dramatics of a family you have to be really glad you didn’t get adopted into

Diego Hargreeves

-When Diego’s patrolling the city and from a distance catches you using your power, despite doing so harmlessly, it’s easy for him to assume the worst, that you’re some kind of criminal, or worse connected to Reginald

-Regardless, it’s a shocking revelation that he needs to do something about, rather than confront you head on, he goes into complete stalker -or as he’d prefer ‘vigilante’- mode, staking you out for a few days

-He’s not in a rush to trust you, but once he finds that your routine is actually quite mundane he gives you enough benefit of the doubt to cautiously approach you, looking for answers

-It’s pretty terrifying to have this masked man show up at your door and interrogate you, -no matter how many times he refers to himself as ‘the good guy’- but things start to click into place once he mentions the umbrella academy, and with your cooperation he steadily lets his guard down and talks to you like more of a regular person

-Even though you couldn’t tell him anything new, and it’s not like there’s really anything connecting you two, the fact that you share the same condition makes him feel some kind of loyalty to you, so he tells you where to find him if you want answers of your own or just want to spend a little time around someone who’s like you

-As closed off as he seems, Diego would welcome you as an ally, someone to have his back and look out for, the kind of relationship that deep down he always wanted to have with his siblings

Allison Hargreeves

-Despite your extraordinary ability, you do live a pretty average life, however you’re not above using your power to your advantage on occasion and this latest time you get caught by someone with a lot of experience in that area

-Allison can be quite cunning when she wants to be and immediately taps into that, keeping her cool and trying to figure out what your deal is without alarming you in case you’re some kind of threat

-Obviously you know who she is though, so while her guard is up she’s thankfully very honest, and while uneasy she is kind once she figures you seem alright

-She doesn’t plan on telling her dad or anything, it’s not worth the bullshit of seeing him, but she’s also weary about just letting you go, maybe it’s projecting but she’s worried about what you could do with that kind of power when you’ve never even had training for it

-So if you express even the slightest interest in staying in touch or continuing this discussion she’s so down, she could really use the good karma of helping someone safely manage their powers (regardless of whether you want that from her or not)

Klaus Hargreeves

-Usually you try to keep a lid on your powers, it’s just easier that way, but one night at a club you drink a bit too much, and let your control slip for just a second, and unbeknownst to you, a certain partier catches you in the act

-Really Klaus just wants to mind his own business, it’s Ben who insists this is important and he should talk to you, nagging him until he begrudgingly follows you out and ‘confronts’ you

-Your defences quickly melt under his absurdly light-hearted disposition, and he’s so straightforward about who he is and what his intentions are that you follow suit and a conversation easily flows between you two, you’re trading life stories within the hour

-He’s so curious about what it was like growing up with a power in a normal environment, honestly just trying to imagine what his life might of been like if Reginald hadn’t adopted him

-If you’ve ever felt alone or miserable because of your ability it’s a blessing to have been discovered by Klaus, he’s offers all the compassion and understanding you have desperately been needing

-He’s not exactly reliable though, your connection may be instant but it has a good chance of also being fleeting as he’s not one to stick around or maintain friendships

Five Hargreeves

-You’re quite careful to be discreet with your powers, but you couldn’t of been prepared for Five to teleport into your workplace when you thought you were alone, and inadvertently catch you using them

-He goes right on the defence, immediately worrying that you could be a factor in the apocalypse, and quite aggressively confronting you, granted he won’t do anything too rash without first hearing you out

-He doesn’t exactly make cooperation easy, remaining hostile and secretive himself, but once he decides that you could neither help or hinder his attempts to save the world your free to go, he seems to lose all interest in you

-So if you want to continue this discussion, he’s not your guy, at most he may give you the courtesy of telling you that you can go to the academy and tell them five sent you if you want more information

-Unless he thinks your power could be useful to him, in which case he will take full advantage of the situation to drag you along with him

-He can’t be too surprised by the revelation that there are other people with powers, it actually seems like the exact kind of thing Reginald would know and keep a secret, he at least plans on telling his siblings but it’s not a priority

Viktor Hargreeves

-You and Viktor live in the same apartment building and by total chance he’s returning home just as you need to use your powers to save Miss Kowalski’s cat from the latest danger he’s gotten himself into

-While shocked, Viktor does consider just apologising and leaving you be, figuring he’s the last person who should be meddling with a super-powered person, but in an act of sheer impulsiveness he introduces himself to you instead

-He’s so disarmingly vulnerable that any worry you had over his intentions dissolves within minutes as he rambles about not wanting to bother you, but having ties to the umbrella academy if you’re interested, and just that he has some experience in this area if you want someone to talk to

-You only take him up on the second offer, you’re so used to your ability being the most important thing in your life that it’s really nice to meet someone relatively unfazed by it, between that and him not having much else going on, a budding friendship easily forms

-He doesn’t try to get any information from you that you don’t freely offer, part of him knows that he should treat this like a bigger deal and probably tell his family, but he also knows how they can be and won’t do so without your permission

-Though he tries not to dwell on it, it’s undeniable that your very existence is kind of a slap to the face, knowing that some stranger in the city had powers and he didn’t, that you’re basically the rightful number seven… it’s a bitter pill to swallow

#luther hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #allison hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #viktor hargreeves x reader #tua x reader #tua x you #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy preferences #the umbrella academy x reader

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itsbopp · 11 months

Note

Please pleeasee you can write headcanons for Gwen Stacy with a very problematic airhead gn!reader who is always causing trouble, where she always has to save and take care of them AND their bullshit?

Babysitting a Partner - Across The Spiderverse | Headcanon

A/N: Of course I can! I tried to think of all that I could, so apologies that it's so short! Hope you enjoy!

SUMMARY: How would Gwen Stacy be with dating an S/O who’s an airhead, problematic, and a troublemaker?

WARNINGS: All characters are 18+. Swearing, Talks of Wounds, Talks of Blood, Slight Talk of Physical Violence.

WORD COUNT: 1000+

You’re probably considered to be the human embodiment of a problem. But it’s okay, because Gwen still loves you, even though you can be a pain in the ass sometimes. If she wasn’t Spider-Woman, it would have been a lot harder to keep a close eye on you and to make sure nothing terrible ever happened to you. Maybe that was why you stumbled your way into her life, because fate decided that she was the only person who would have been able to deal with your colorful personality – and colorful actions.

There had been many times where she’s had to stop what she was doing, just for the sake of keeping you from getting hurt. Sometimes you do impulsive things, or you don’t think certain decisions through completely, and more often than not, Gwen’s spidey senses start tingling, and she’s having to drop everything to go and find you. One time she found you trying to fight a group of thugs, who were beating up on some poor guy who was just wanting to go home after a long day at work. It was a close call. You almost ended up getting knocked out, but before one of the lowly men could swing on you, she had swooped down from a building and webbed his hand, which allowed her to yank him away from you.

There were other times where she wasn’t so lucky in getting to you in time. There was one particular night where she was busy fighting crime, saving people from fires or other terrible situations, and eating some pizza when she eventually had the ability to take a break. You had been holed up in your dorm for the majority of the day, and so while she was resting and enjoying her pizza, and you were leaving university to get some food in your own system, you encountered two people who were close to your age. Of course, they were up to no good, yet again, and so when they saw you, they started following you, before they eventually struck.

You couldn’t even begin to understand why they had attacked you, but they did, and you ended up getting hurt in turn. Gwen felt her senses tingle again, and when she dropped everything she was doing to find you, she had spotted you on the ground, bleeding from your head and clutching your abdomen, as though you had been stabbed. Though, luckily, when she rushed to your side and tended to you, you weren’t terribly hurt, but it was enough to warrant panic from her. Enough panic to where you ended up staying at the local hospital for a night. You didn’t want to, but she said that you couldn’t say no, and so you relented.

After that terrible event, she made sure to keep a much closer eye on you, even when she was too busy dealing with her villain of the week. You were still just as much of an airhead, even after what should have been a life-changing event. You acted as though you were a dare-devil in a way, which was sometimes endearing, but only when she had the ability to experience it with her own two eyes. You knew that she was Spider-Woman. So, sometimes, you’d find yourself attempting to show off to her, while the two of you relaxed on the roof of a building whenever your days were typically slow. Walking along the edge of it and yelling to your girlfriend ‘Gwen, watch this!’ and then almost proceeding to fall to your death was her least favorite thing in the world.

Trust me, there’s been many times where she tries to get you to just relax. You’re just such a high-strung individual that it makes it hard for her to get you to calm down, especially when she doesn’t let you get your jitters out first. She won’t hesitate to stick you with one of her webs and use that as a leash to keep you close to her. Think of those children backpacks that have a leash connected to it. That’d be you whenever the one and only Spider-Woman is done with your shit. Hell, sometimes she’ll shoot her webbing at your feet, just to get you to stay put. And of course you’ll complain, but like… she doesn’t really care.

Just stop moving.

It’s hard out here when your partner is an airhead, she thinks.

And when it comes to hanging out with her at your dorm, you always somehow manage to give her a heart attack, even when she can tell what’s about to happen, without it having fully happened yet. There’s been way too many times where she’s had to take a knife away from you, because you’ve almost accidentally cut yourself. There was even one time in particular when you tried to move too quickly, and in turn, it caused you to bump a glass cup off of the counter. And of course, the one and only Spider-Woman was there to catch it. And of course, she scolded you gently and told you to be more careful.

But did you really listen?

No.

You just have a habit of rebelling. It’s what makes you, you, and although it can sometimes get on Gwen’s nerves, or it can stress her out a little too much, she still really cares about you. The days where you’re too tired to be a miscreant are probably her favorite, though. But you definitely didn’t hear that from her. And honestly, you don’t always need to be tired in order for you to just cool it. You may be an airhead, but you can gather whenever she’s feeling a bit too stressed out, and so even though there are still those urges to get into trouble, you relent and decide to give your wonderful girlfriend a break.

And she appreciates it.

Though she loves going on adventures with you and your curious mind, she’d still love to just relax in your dorm and watch some movies with you. Maybe even play some games together, or even bake something – but there’s no way in hell she’s letting you hold anything that can cut you.

Being Spider-Woman is a job as is. She’d like to not be a medic, too.

She already has to deal with herself getting hurt.

#spider gwen x reader #gwen stacy x reader #atsv x reader #itsv x reader

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Note

Yan bandits but sheriff reader has an idea to let internal conflict take down their little schemes

Reader gets one of them in private and kisses them and tells them not to tell anyone, and that theyre the only person theyve kissed,, but doing this with all of them

In an argument, one bandit spills the deal that sheriff kissed them, and they all realize theyve been fooled by the sheriff <3

"Arson...Robbery.. Destruction of Property."

The list goes on. You pace back and forth through the empty corridor as you list off the crimes carried out by one person and their merry little crew; said individual locked behind the steel bars before you. A rush of adrenaline courses through them everything your eyes glance in their direction; not a single ounce of guilt on their face.

"Breaking and entering." You come to a stop, sitting in the chair placed in front of the cell. "Couldn't avoid staying out of the lion's den, could you? Or wearing its clothes."

The bandit shrugs, grinning from ear to ear. "What can I say? The color suits me, but I'd wear a garbage bag if it was something you touched."

You scoff. "Can't hold your tongue either, huh?... You're lucky that's what I like about you."

The bandit's cocky personality shatters. They swallow hard, shrinking at the shutter in their voice as they speak. "W-what did you just say?"

"I said I like you. More than the rest of your little pals at least." You stand up, walking over to the cell; dangling your keyring between your fingers. As you unlock the door and step inside, they feel like they're trapped in a room with a snake. That same devil that tempted man as the fables go. You crouch beside them; their heart melting at the passive smile on your face. You stroke their cheek as you lean in.

"You're a special one, you know that? You don't belong with that bunch. Tell you what, I'm gonna give you a little present just to let you know how special you are."

The bandit dives in to meet your lips as you draw closer, but you subside their fantasy with a small peck to their cheek. Though it wasn't what they were expecting, the poor fool is nearly drooling with their jaw on the floor at the kiss. You unlock their uncuffs and they just sit their for a moment - mesmerized. Your stare weighting on their back; they finally hop up from the bench and scurry out the open cell. Before they can leave the jail you call out to them, holding a finger to your lips.

"Make sure you keep this our little secret."

Returning to the hideout, the bandit can already hear commotion from inside. Opening the door, they find the rest of the gang at their card table; betting the belongings they stole from you over a game of poker. They come to find out that after a particular nasty hand, another had spilled the beans that you had kissed them on the wrist.

"You call that something?" Another barks. "The sheriff kissed my forehead."

"Yea, well they said I saw their favorite."

"They said that to me too..." The one who just entered adds. "Before kissing my cheek."

"Bullshit!"

"Shut your traps!"

A booming voice from the corner of the room brings silence across the floor. The leader of the gang sits up from their seat, disgruntled over the fact that they'd been woken up from their plesant dreams involving the town sheriff - and that everyone was fitting over something so stupid.

"How dumb can you idiots be? Don't y'all see what's going on here? We're all the sheriff's favorite. We're a team afterall, and a team shares their winnings. However- if you want to find out who's really better than the rest, well- we'd better go pay them a visit, right?"

#Yandere bandits #yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere harem #yandere x darling #yandere drabble #yandere x y/n

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cacoetheswriting · 1 year

Text

celebrity skin. (part four)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.7k summary: as the relationship progresses, strong feelings develop.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mutual pining, oblivious idiots in love, talk of bullying & past trauma related to bullying, mentions alcohol consumption, family issues / family drama— if i missed anything, pls let me know!

a/n: this is a little filler chapter, but there’s details here that will be important later. also, it’s just a little happiness and fluff in the lives of eddie and his favourite popstar ;)

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

Eddie is used to dealing with bullies.

His entire life consisted of people — mostly strangers — hating on him for one reason or the other. No matter the setting he found himself in, someone always had an opinion and they were never afraid to voice it.

Whether it was to gossip about the way he was raised, his family situation, (which frankly wasn’t anybody’s business, not like they cared). Or to voice their distaste about the trailer park Eddie grew up in, unsafe and unclean. Then there were the folks that had a never ending issue with his personality, the shit he found interesting that differed slightly to most, and the music he was into, heavier than the charts. And for the more shallow crowd, his physical appearance always caused a wave of upset since how he chose to dress was a clear indicator of who he was on the inside.

The high school bullies, like Jason Carver and his gang of dipshits, well, they never let Eddie forget he was less than. On most days, he didn’t let that bother him. He had thick skin, Uncle Wayne made sure he knew from an age arguably too young that people were assholes and Eddie should never let anyone get into his head. Hence the provocations with Hawkins’ finest, that often led to fights he knew he could easily win, but never did since Uncle Wayne also said, “be the bigger man”.

The music industry jackasses who wouldn’t give him a chance ‘cause Eddie and his band didn’t fit whatever image was considered hot at the time. Rejection after rejection. Bullshit reasons that made him angry, if not for himself, than for his friends that followed him out to Los Angeles, chasing a dream he’s had for years.

Then there were the critics: “who told these guys they’re good enough to try?”, “poor quality of lyrics and an even poorer performance”, “listening to the latest Corroded Coffin record is time I will never get back. sadly.”, “and for the next group of friends who think they have what it takes, let this be a lesson, you really do not”. To Eddie, these were empty words by people that hid behind a pen and paper, never bold enough to say it to his face. Although, it definitely hurt more when it was a fan gone rogue. Displeased by whatever shenanigan the band got up to and lashing out in the only way they knew how — cruel words.

Yes, Eddie was used to dealing with nonsense and he thought by now, at this stage in his life, he’d faced all of the bullies the world had to offer.

That is until he got involved with you.

Associating himself with someone of your stature was not a mistake by any means. In fact, Eddie would say the only mistake in his relationship with you was the time between your first meeting in August of ‘92 and your reconciliation all those months later. Time lost, wasted.

And Eddie was not an idiot. He knew that once people found out that ‘Corroded Coffin frontman and America’s sweetest popstar’ were some sort of an item, they’d voice their opinion, warranted or not. He was prepared for that, just like he was prepared to protect you from the usual bullshit he normally endured in the tabloids since he could take it, but you were pure and didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.

Granted, he didn’t expect he’d have to stand up for you so soon. He also didn’t expect the one person really rooting against your relationship with him, the one person he’d have to look out for amongst the group of usual suspects, would be your very own grandmother.

Yet here you all were.

Pacific Dining Car was exactly the type of restaurant Eddie usually avoided. Too much history in a place like this, attracting too many tourists who wanted to snap photos of the building featured in that one Chinatown scene. Privacy didn’t exist in a public setting like this one and Eddie knew to be careful with his reactions, after being burned once too many times in the past: ‘Eddie Munson, guest from hell.’.

The dinner location, chosen by your grandmother, also clearly bothered you. Knee bouncing, brushing erratically against the rockstar’s own leg, as you looked around to every misplaced sound, anxious of who could be listening in on the conversation with the matriarch of your family.

It didn’t help that the line of questioning offered by your grandmother was nothing short of hostile and with every passing second, you felt increasingly upset because you never got a chance to warn Eddie about her clear bias and obvious distaste towards him.

But on the outside, Eddie seems calm. His large, ring-clad hand is spread across your bouncing thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your covered skin. He holds eye contact with your Nana from across the table, unafraid of her words and how downright rude she is being. He even makes a joke at his own expense, earning himself a brow raise, as if to say “I didn’t know you had it in you”.

Even if it’s all a charade. Eddie knows not to let the bullies see him sweat, and at the end of the day, the longer he’s sat at this horrendous dinner with your grandmother, the more he’s convinced that’s exactly what she is: a big bully.

“And tell me about your parents, Edward?”

The hold he has on your leg gets a little tighter, so you glance at him, witnessing how his features shift just for half-a-second from composure to an expression you haven’t seen on him before. A certain melancholy behind his brown eyes that’s reminiscent of when your mom thinks about the father she’s never met.

Suddenly, you’re feeling protective and a confidence that’s failed you all night resurfaces. You turn back to look at your Nana. Placing one forearm on the table between you, then lift your index finger, which she notices immediately, and in a voice quite stern, you warn her to stop.

“I think that’s enough of the third degree,” you say to your Nana, unafraid to hold her gaze for the first time all night. “Eddie’s been very gracious, answering all of your questions very honestly when he really didn’t have to.”

Eddie says your name ‘cause he doesn’t need you fighting his battles, but you don’t pay attention to the murmur that’s escaped his lips.

“Can we just finish our meal in congenial silence, please? You’ve flown across the country, for what exactly, I still don’t know. Since you’re here and you invited us out for dinner, let us at least enjoy dessert,” you snap and retrieve your arm, wrapping it instead around Eddie’s bicep.

There’s a moment of silence. Your Nana’s scrutinising gaze falls on where you’re now visibly holding the rockstar sitting beside you. She’s not the only one looking. The sea of murmurs and glances engulfs you whole, yet right this moment, it’s not bothering you in any way. In fact, you welcome it.

Eddie tilts his head in your direction, a small smile circling his lips as you lean into him further, resting your head on his shoulder. He’s not really thinking of the people staring either. In that moment, as the emotions from the evening slowly die down, the only thing on his mind is how strongly he feels about you.

Even though Eddie has never needed anyone to stand up for him, anyone to fight off the bullies he’s often encountered, watching you put yourself in the line of fire, protect him from your own grandmother, further ignited these feelings inside of him. Fondness, care, and something much stronger than the sexual attraction that’s clearly been there from day one.

He places a kiss on top of your head, lingering a little longer to inhale the scent of your undoubtedly expensive perfume. The corners of your lips twitch upward at the contact. This morning, you were a nervous wreck about the world knowing you and Eddie were some sort of item. Now, mere hours later, you might as well have been holding up the middle finger and calling the paparazzi yourself. If anything, it was a liberating experience.

“I guess it doesn’t matter what I say,” your Nana says with an exaggerated sigh. She picks up her wine glass, taking a slow sip of the maroon liquid.

“Is that really so bad?” You question.

The shrug she offers is answer enough. It makes you roll your eyes, though the reaction isn’t appreciated by your grandmother. She tuts her tongue, shaking your finger at you as she takes another sip of the wine.

“That’s not very lady-like,” she says in a displeasing tone while leaning slightly forward.

You match her movement, letting your arm fall into your lap as Eddie places his on the back of your chair, fingers reaching out for you, softly grazing your back through your blouse.

“Oh, and how you’ve been behaving all night, is?”

“Honey, I’m just looking out for you. Why can’t you see that?”

It’s condescending, the way she says it, so it makes it all the harder to believe. And that’s the way it’s been your entire life. Her word was gospel. There was no fighting it. She was a manipulative woman and what she wanted to happen, always got done.

That didn’t bother you growing up. Mainly because her strong opinions and calculating hold on the world around her got you where you currently were: America’s favourite starlet. Selfish? Yes. But you’ve been called worse in the press.

There was someone else involved now. Someone you cared about arguably more than you cared about your career or pristine image. Eddie didn’t judge you like everyone else in your life did, and even though the two of you didn’t have the best start, being around him these last two days was nothing short of heavenly. So he didn’t deserve the treatment he’s so far received from your Nana.

“I’ve said this many times before, but anything I’ve ever done since you were a little girl was to get you where you needed to be. Get you where you belong. Now that you’ve made it, a little appreciation would be nice.”

Her words sting. Tears burn in the corners of your eyes as you tell her you’ve always appreciated her. She just shrugs again. Now Eddie’s the one being protective. He straightens his posture and before you realise what is happening, the rockstar is chiming into the conversation.

“With all due respect, there’s no reason to treat her the way you do.”

Your Nana’s eyes shift to Eddie, a smug frown circling her lips.

“Edward, please don’t get involved in business you know nothing about.”

The rockstar smirks. “The fact you’re calling this business, instead of a moment between family, tells me all I need to know about you,” he states and before your Nana gets a chance for rebuttal, he turns to you.

“Let’s get out of here, okay?”

All you do is nod, pushing down the tears and smiling at him with appreciation.

Time in Los Angeles moved differently than in New York.

The pace was slower, more relaxed. There was no urgency with anything. People took their sweet damn time, no matter how hectic their schedule was. None of this go, go, go, that you would find on the streets of New York. You appreciated that about California, which is perhaps why you ended up staying longer than intended.

That and the curly-haired boy you got to wake up with, every morning for the past three months.

The Corroded Coffin frontman had opened his home to you entirely following the dinner with your Nana. He had his assistant contact Holly that very same night and the following morning, your belongings were brought from the hotel to his Hidden Hills property. A week later, you arranged with Val to ship some of your clothes from your New York apartment.

In the months that passed, Eddie’s home had quickly become your favourite place on the planet, and despite not being a couple in the official terms, your relationship with the rockstar grew stronger with every hug, kiss, and every single time he put his strong hands on you, touched you in a way that made you see stars.

Tabloids were eating it up too. Every outing you and Eddie had graced the front page of every shitty magazine this country had to offer — which your labels were genuinely thrilled by ‘cause it helped create a buzz about your upcoming single with the band.

Obviously there were the people like your Nana who hated the relationship and made their unwanted opinions quite clear, or the people who doubted and thought it was some sort of PR stunt to boost sales. However, in your bubble with Eddie, you simply stopped caring. He made all of your anxieties disappear with nothing but a sweet smile.

And during this time, between spending hours by the pool, hanging out in the kitchen that before you came along was never used, or pulling orgasms from one another for hours on end, the two of you also had time to work on new music together.

There was honestly enough material for an entire album, if not two. Lyrics to songs that would never actually see the light of day, which made the whole writing process all the more special. Just you, Eddie, and his guitar. Scribbling rhymes on napkins, magazines, anything that was within reach once inspiration struck.

The songs were quite good too. You both knew it. Perhaps the best music either of you have ever come up with, but it was also vastly different from both of your usual styles. One song together, a guaranteed hit. An entire album? That’s a sell out.

So there’s a box underneath the bed you now share together filled with all the written lyrics and maybe, one day in the very distant future, they would get published in a memoir about your lives. Until then…

“Serious question,” the boy that’s constantly on your mind asks while stepping out of the bathroom, a loose towel hanging around his hips, water drops trailing down his toned and tattooed torso. “What are you wearing tonight to the party, sweetheart? Marianne said we should be somewhat matching, but I’ve got no fucking clue what that means.”

“Never attended an event as a Hollywood it couple, huh?” You tease, sitting up.

“Never really dated anyone, and you know that, baby.”

He stops at the foot of the bed and leans down to peck your lips, wet curls patting your cheeks. You hum against him, satisfied at the contact, and he smiles, wide, teeth grazing your mouth.

“Well, we’re not really dating either,” you murmur.

“So I guess we’re not actually attending this party as a couple, huh?” Eddie bites back playfully before kissing your cheek. He stands straight and you watch, eyes trailing along his multiple tattoos, as he wanders towards his closet.

There’s a happy expression on your face, one that’s only ever present around Eddie. How he makes you feel is not affected by any label the two of you have on your relationship, so do you really care that he hasn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend?

Perhaps.

Actually, not really.

He's told you many times that he has difficulty processing emotions correctly, “like a normal person would, sweetheart”. Given the stories he’s told you about his upbringing, it’s completely understandable. And it’s not like you offered any guidance in this department as your idea of love was fairly skewered too. Idealistic, since your parents had it so good from the moment they met, but also messy because your Nana presented the other side of the coin with how she led her life.

To this day, your mother doesn’t know who her father is. She’s not entirely sure if he even knows she exists, if he’s even still alive. She’s asked many times, but as far as you were aware, she was never given a straight answer. Then there was the man your Nana eventually married. Rich and handsome, the only two consistencies in her string of stories about the lavish life they had during the brief time they were together. From what your mom remembers of those days, the man was kind. “And honey, at the end of the day, that’s all that really matters when it comes to love,” she’d say whenever she’d talk about him.

Eddie is kind.

Taking your mothers advice, that’s all that matters.

You hop off the bed and follow the rockstar. He’s rifling through some shirts when you walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He relaxes into you. It’s minute, but you notice it immediately and it makes your heart flutter ever so slightly.

“I like that black one,” you say after resting your chin on his bare shoulder. “And if Marianne says she wants us to match, that will go with the dress Versace made for me. Especially if you wear it with those leather pants you have and pair it all with a chain or two.”

Eddie takes the shirt you pointed out off the hanger without question.

“If only I had you before last year's Grammys,” he huffs out a lighthearted laugh, “My outfit was so bad. I know you definitely wouldn’t have let me leave the house wearing what I did.”

You chuckle delicately while letting your arms fall.

“Well, now I wanna see a picture,” you tease, then take a step back to lean against the set of custom-built drawers in the middle of the space.

“No way,” Eddie protests and spins to look at you, a wide grin gracing his features. He places the shirt to the side and stands in front of you, knee bumping against your own. “Sometimes I’m glad you actually didn’t know who I was before we met,” he says, taking your face in his hands, “This is one of those times.”

You roll your eyes. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Think Grace Jones with that gold cape-thing,” Eddie cites, “They had me wear something similar over my outfit, but instead of a plain one, it had all these random embroideries. I looked like I had just gotten out of bed.”

The picture he’s painted appears in front of your eyes and you throw your head back in an array of soft giggles.

“I was at last year’s Grammys,” you say in between those chuckles, “Can’t believe I didn’t see you, especially if you say your outfit was that atrocious.”

Eddie ponders your words for a moment, licking his lips. His thumbs graze along your cheekbones, almost as if he’s fighting himself, fighting whether he should say what he thinks to say: “I deliberately avoided you.”.

The Corroded Coffin frontman has made it clear since day one that he’s known exactly who you are. Shit, that wasn’t hard. The entire world knew you.

While Eddie was trying to graduate high school for the third time, you were gracing covers of magazines all the girls in Hawkins bought. And although he’d never admit it, he was guilty of buying some of said magazines too, though for different reasons than his female peers…

The printed images fueled his fantasies. After all, he’s just a dude and you have always been drop-dead gorgeous. Though, at risk of sounding like the perv he can sometimes be, he’ll keep that part to himself.

Honestly, that’s why he’s never really said much other than simply knowing who you are.

It’s why he’s never said anything about seeing you at different events you both attended over the years, once he’s made it big with the band. Or why he’s never said about wanting to talk to you then, only because he wanted to get into your pants, not because he was a fan since he really didn’t care for the music you produced — yeah, perv.

He definitely feels guilty about it. Especially now that he’s succeeded. Especially now that he does get to have you, kiss you, pleasure you. And aside from that, he’s gotten to know you on a much deeper level than what you presented to the world. Jesus, especially now that he’s fallen for you. Harder than he intended.

“I-I saw you,” he eventually admits in a murmur so quiet, he has to clear his throat and say it again, only louder. “I-I thought about walking up to you and using my usual charm, you know. Flirting with you a little, making you weak in the knees.”

“Why didn’t you?” You ask, stringing your brows together.

Eddie smirks. “‘Cause you’re you. Hot and honestly a little intimidating,” he answers honestly. “Baby, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but the second you enter a room, all eyes are constantly on you. There’s this aura about you, it attracts a lot of attention, wanted or not, and that scared me.”

He pauses. “I saw you, thought you looked smoking and I think I even said that to the guys,” he laughs, “But when I downed a drink for a little liquid courage, it did the complete opposite. I couldn’t move.”

You nod at his words, taking them in.

Then you wonder what the last year would’ve looked like if you officially met Eddie a few months before you actually did. If he came up to you at the Grammys, what would you have said? Would you have landed in bed with him the way you did anyway? Would you be here right now, feeling all that you’re feeling for him? Or would it have been a random hook up in the bathrooms of Radio City Music Hall, only to be forgotten before they announced Album of the Year.

Shaking the thoughts away, since at the end of the day, it doesn’t really fucking matter, you push yourself into Eddie even more, chest pressed against his, hands on his neck.

“Does it still scare you?”

It’s a whisper. Loud enough to hear, especially as you incline towards him, lips now mere inches apart.

He shakes his head ever so slightly. “Wouldn’t have followed you into my home last August if it did.”

“Good.”

When your lips connect in an ardent kiss, one of Eddie’s hands moves to your waist. He squeezes, fingers slowly making their way up your tank top, caressing your skin. He’s slow with his movements, deliberate ‘cause each of your pressure points is engraved in his memory — and no matter what happens between you, he’s convinced how your body reacts to his touch, will remain in his thoughts forever.

Shit. Is this what love is?

The nerves kick in then. He pulls back slightly, scrunching his nose for a brief moment, before letting his arms fall and taking a step to the side. Tilting your head in his direction, you poke his arm.

You’re a little flustered by his sudden departure, missing his touch instantly. When you go to question what just happened, Eddie’s avoiding your gaze, fidgeting with the shirt he placed to the side.

There’s a slight sting in your chest, but you push it down because his mood tends to change depending on what the two of you are doing, or where the conversation is heading — just like yours often does. This was clearly one of those situations. Something crossed his mind and whatever it was, must have startled him a little.

“Where did you just go?”

He doesn’t immediately answer your question. Taking the time instead to slide on a pair of clean boxers, the wet towel disregarded on the wooden floor. He then works to unbutton the shirt you picked out for him, and you give him the time he needs ‘cause he’s often done the same for you.

And Eddie’s head is spinning. He knew his feelings for you were strong, he just didn’t realise that they were this strong. He didn’t realise they were love strong.

Love is a big word. It’s a big deal. Falling in love with someone is an even bigger deal and yes, he’s imagined falling in love with you over the last few months you two spent living together, but that doesn’t mean he was prepared for it to happen.

Gareth would tell him he should’ve been prepared.

Eddie recounts the stories his bandmate shared about meeting his “better half”, and how the two of them fell in love, eventually starting their beautiful family. Eddie then thinks about how beautiful you look in the morning, bare-faced and peaceful. He thinks about how you make breakfast in the morning and dinner in the evening, both meals which you eat together at the kitchen island you first met by, and a smile circles his lips at the memory.

He then thinks about how much more you’ve opened up since then, telling him about your childhood in New York and the woman that really didn’t like you being with him. All those stories only affirmed this belief he’s had that you grew up in completely different worlds, yet you never let those differences get between you. If anything, for someone who grew up richer than the richest of Hawkins, you were more down to earth than every single one of them.

Jesus H. Christ.

“I-I… Fuck,” the rockstar clears his throat before finally looking back at you. “Wanna skip this thing? Watch MTV or somethin’ instead?”

You chuckle. “You want to bail on our own release party to watch MTV? The guys will kill us. Not to mention Marianne, she’d definitely have our heads.”

“But, we have fun watching MTV,” he whines, reaching for you once again. He guides your arms around him before resting his hands on your hips and pushing himself into you. “Plus, I think there will be other parties we’ll get to go to as a couple.”

You arch a brow, smirk circling your lips.

“A couple, huh?”

He smiles down at you. “Yeah, sweetheart. A couple.”

Heat rushes to your face. You’re unsure as to why you’re suddenly feeling embarrassed, but your hands move to your face, barely covering your eyes. And Eddie is smiling wide, definitely pleased by the reaction he’s gotten. So he places a tender kiss on each of your fingers, before reaching for them, intertwining with his own.

“Would you like that?” Eddie asks quietly, leaning closer as he does.

A nod of the head and a peck on the corner of his mouth is your response. It’s all Eddie needs for his heart to soar inside his chest.

“Then I think we should attend our own party as a couple,” you say quietly against his lips. “And I promise, the second it starts getting boring, we’re leaving to watch MTV in nothing but our underwear.” You draw out the last syllable, voice fading into nothing.

Eddie groans, low tone, then nods his head rather reluctantly. You kiss him gently once, then a second time only deeper, before freeing yourself from his grasp, also rather reluctantly, and walking back into the bedroom.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you call out.

The rockstar is behind you within seconds of the sentence leaving your lips. He attaches himself back to you, like a magnet, mouth to the crook of your neck, trailing sloppy kisses upwards towards your jawline. And you squeal in his embrace, laughing as he pushes you forward, stumbling towards the bathroom.

“I’m gonna help,” Eddie quips.

“But you literally just showered,” you giggle.

“Didn’t you hear me,” he stunts, nibbling on your earlobe. “I’m gonna help you, baby, ‘cause what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

And you’re on cloud nine when he labels himself as such. You tell him you like the sound of that, even though it’s such a miniscule thing in the grand scheme of things, after all, you’ve been acting like a couple for months.

But he says it again, “I’m your boyfriend now, sweetheart.”, and you’re shaking with excitement. Eddie fucking Munson, your boyfriend.

Let’s really hope it ends well.

as always, thank you for reading! reblog & tell me what you think

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @papillonoirsworld

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #celebrity skin.

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