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its-time-to-write · 1 year

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This is NOT Jamie Tartt slander. This is two sleep-deprived people making dumb choices because they’re tired. Also, this is so. Freakin. Long. Apologies in advance. Warnings include swearing, fighting, pregnancy? Is that a warning? Basically reader is pregnant and it goes through the first pregnancy test to like when the baby is a month old. Anyway. I never know how to write these intros.

you’re losing me

You and Jamie are young. You are not old. Sure, you’re married after only dating for a year and being engaged for another half a year, but it’s not like much changed from how it was. That band on your left hands gives you both a sense of security, and it’s fun to be the hot young married couple around Richmond. It’s nice to be able to walk around openly and to be called “Mrs. Tarrt,” and to know that this himbo dumbass is going to be making you laugh till you’re old and gray. (Said himbo dumbass told you that’s his favorite nickname). You both excel in your various workplaces and because of that, when you moved into Jamie’s house you were able to keep your flat. It turned out to be a blessing when your younger sister moved to England from another country, so she can be close by without actually being in the same house as you.

All that to say, you were not ready for the little pink stick you were holding at 4pm on a Wednesday.

“Babe?” Jamie calls from the front door, “I’m home! You here?”

Your eyes are glued to those two little lines. “In the bathroom!” you shout. You hear Jamie’s footsteps coming up the stairs into your room.

“Oi listen, Ted told this joke today that went over me head, so I remembered it to ask you and…” he trails off. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

You turn to look at him, the same shock from five minutes ago still on your face. In an instant, Jamie is kneeling on the floor next to you cupping your face. “Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital? Do I need to call someone? Did something happen at work?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine, I just- look.” You halfheartedly lift the pregnancy test. Jamie looks down and his face shifts from concern to one of shock then back to concern.

“Are you sure?” he asks softly.

Wordlessly, you point to the sink where there are five pregnancy tests of different brands. All positive.

“Shit,” he whispers. Then: “Wait. Why aren’t you happy bout this? I thought you wanted kids?”

“I do!” you reply a little miserably, “I do, it’s just, we talked about it and I know you really don’t at least not till you’re in your mid-thirties, and I know I told you that I wanted to have them young that one time, but that was before we were dating and I didn’t want to pressure you and I don’t want you to think I did this on purpose because I didn’t but I’m actually really scared about what you’re going to think because I’m so excited, especially because I didn’t even think this was possible.”

You’re not looking at him anymore, but hugging your knees to your chest. You are excited for this baby. You didn’t think you were going to be able to have kids, based on personal issues and family medical history. Or at least, that it would take a lot of time and a lot of doctor’s appointments. The fact that you have a total of six positive pregnancy tests is a miracle in and of itself, but it’s not what you and Jamie planned. And sure, you’re married, but does that really mean you won’t split up? This is pretty big.

All these thoughts are swirling around in your head until-

“Hey.”

Jamie softly tilts your chin up. “Look at me.”

Against your will, tears have started to leak out of your eyes.

“Darling, I ain’t mad. I think mostly I’m just glad you ain’t dyin. This is amazing! We’re going to have a little baby Tartt, and I couldn’t be happier. As long as you’re alright, I’m happy.”

You grab his bicep. “Are you absolutely sure, Jamie?” You need to know.

He laughs. “Babe, yes. Yes I am. For better or for worse, yeah? Though this really is for better.”

You crack a smile. “Ok. Ok. Yeah, ok.”

Jamie twirls a strand of your hair. “We’ll be ok, yeah? Now let’s get off this floor and go get ice cream. Heard that’s a pregnancy staple. And, on the way, can you explain this joke Ted said? Everyone laughed except me and Will, so I was thinking it’s gotta be...” his voice trails down the hall as you head out the door.

—

Jamie is funny. Once he decides to do something, he’s all in. He wanted to start telling people the moment you stepped out the door for ice cream. You had to physically put your hand over his mouth to stop him from telling Mae, whom you bumped into on your way. To be honest, you’re sure she knows anyway because Jamie got out a few words and she gave you a knowing look, but she’ll keep it to herself. She’s a good one.

It was only a matter of time before Jamie insisted you start telling the team. He’d say, mid-breakfast, “Babe. You know who would be a great babysitter? Sam. Sam’s one of me best mates. Haven’t kept a secret from him in forever,” with a puppy dog face.

Or during MarioKart, “What do you think about having Isaac and Colin help with the baby’s room? Isaac’s good at all that construction shit and both you and Colin like to paint. You probably shouldn’t be painting anyway, what with all the fumes.”

Or your personal favorite, during a shower, “Babe. What about Roy and Keeley?”

You: “What about Roy and Keeley?”

Jamie: “They should know. We should tell them. Keeley would flip her shit and I want to see if Roy will cry.”

You: “That’s what you’re thinking about? Here? Now? Good lord, man, I thought you were debating which conditioner to use.”

To be entirely fair, it was about the time to start telling people. You had started stealing Jamie’s shirts claiming that they were more comfortable. They were baggier on you, so they hid the beginnings of your baby bump, and you explained away any questions by reminding people that you wore a lot of layers because you were perpetually cold. However, you were at the point where you were going to have to start telling people, which is how Roy and Keeley ended up at your house for your bi-weekly dinner that you had been delaying for two months.

You had taken approximately two bites of food before Jamie clattered down his fork and said, “We have something to tell you.”

Roy and Keeley looked at you expectantly. You reach under your chair for two bags and place them in front of their plates.

Roy’s face is saying what the fuck as he and Keeley remove the tissue paper and hold up two onesies. A black one that says, newest addition to uncle’s day and a light pink one that says, if you think I’m cute, you should see my aunt.

They look from the onesies in their hands and then back to you and Jamie. “Surprise!” you say in unison. There is a beat of silence and then Roy says, “That’s fucking great!” at the same time Keeley squeals, “Ohmygod, congratulations!” and then you’re all on your feet hugging.

“I fucking knew it,” says Keeley. She nudges Roy, “Didn’t I tell you Roy-o? I fucking called it weeks ago! You owe me ten quid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roy grumbles as he reaches into his pocket, but that’s as close to a smile he’ll get. “Can’t believe you’re having a kid with this prick,” he says to you, but it’s prick (affectionate) as opposed to prick (derogatory).

You smile. “You’re the first people we’ve told, other than Jamie’s mum and Simon. You’re the closest thing we have to family here.”

Keeley goes, “Aw, babe,” and Roy just squints at you and lets out a grunt.

“She’s gonna have the coolest family,” Jamie says.

“She?” Keeley asks, “Are you having a girl?”

You roll your eyes. “We don’t know. We’re going to find out tomorrow, and Jamie has been insisting that it’s a girl. He says it’s his ‘dad sense,’ or something like that. I’ve given up telling him that’s not a real thing.”

Jamie shrugs, “I know what I know. Don’t get why we have to go to some bloke with that slimy gel to be told something I’ve been saying for weeks.”

“That bloke with slimy gel is my doctor and an ultrasound, you absolute himbo!” you laugh.

Roy finally cracks a smile, and you spend a comfortable evening together, thinking about how much things are going to change.

—

A week later, you’re at the Richmond pitch. You walked over from Mae’s, because you were thinking about her chips all afternoon. You ate at least three baskets and she made a sly comment about eating for two. She pinched your cheek as she walked away and then smacked Baz, who was trying to eavesdrop.

You walk into the locker room, coat still on and reach up to kiss Jamie. He’s still a sweaty from practice because none of them have gone to the showers yet, but you don’t mind.

“You ready?” he asks.

You give your arms a shake. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You walk into Ted and Beard’s office, where you asked Rebecca and Higgins to meet. Trent is in there as well, and he looks up in surprise as you walk in.

“Good to see, Mrs. Tartt,” Ted says as he gets up to hug you.

“Hey Ted,” you smile back, going over to hug Rebecca. “How are you all doing?” “Oh you know, biting our nails for whatever it is you guys have to tell us,” Ted replies.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Rebecca interjects. “I simply cannot handle any more change around here.”

You shake my head. “No, no we’re not leaving. But this is about a change.”

Back in the locker room, the Richmond boys hear a big “WHAT,” from Ted and look over to see you and Jamie getting swarmed by him, Beard, Rebecca, Higgins, and Trent. Isaac looks at Sam and shrugs, bemused. You and Jamie open the door and walk out right under where the “Believe” sign used to be.

You smile and take off your coat, revealing a shirt that says “Tartt in the oven,” and an obvious baby bump.

There is silence as jaws drop and then Isaac says-

“I’m going to be an uncle?”

The locker room erupts in pandemonium with the boys slapping each other on the back firing rapid-fire questions at you and Jamie.

“How long have you been keeping this a secret?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Are you going to name it after me?”

“Can I be the favorite uncle?”

“Can we help decorate its room?”

Jamie is smiling as big as you’ve ever seen him.

“OI!” Isaac roars. “QUIET. Are we men or are we beasts? One at a time!”

Isaac looks at you two. “Boy or girl?”

Jamie’s eyes glow. “Girl!”

The room erupts once again as Jamie kisses you on the top of your head and pulls you close to him.

—

Labor was… not fun. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great. There weren’t really complications except for the fact that Jamie was almost not there. See, it’s because your water broke when you were in the shower right before leaving to watch one of Jamie’s games. You looked down at the shower drain and felt your mind race through a million scenarios. Do you text Jamie and make him miss the game? Do you push through as long as you can? Do you have Keeley and Rebecca take you to the hospital? Do you go by yourself?

As you’re considering, you think of laying in bed the night before. The baby was kicking and Jamie was tracing patterns on your stomach whispering, “Baby Tartt doo doo doo-doo doo-doo.”

He would hate to miss this.

You make a choice and call Keeley.

Thirty minutes later you’re in Rebecca’s box waiting for the game to start. You have contractions, sure, but you’ve been having them for a while. The doctor said it was nothing to worry about, so you didn’t worry.

That means that Keeley and Rebecca don’t worry as you grip the arm of your seat and blow out a long breath.

Keeley absentmindedly pats your arm and Rebecca slings hers around your shoulders.

“Don’t go having this baby now,” she jokes, “Wait till after we’ve won.”

You force out a laugh. If only she knew.

You have to get up and walk after the first half because the contractions are starting to get closer together. Rebecca notices and gets up to come inside and see you.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

You look at her without saying anything and her eyes widen.

“Shit,” she says. “How long has this been happening?”

“Since right before I left,” you gasp out, “My water broke in the shower and I didn’t want- shit.” You bend over from a contraction before continuing, “I didn’t want to miss Jamie’s game and it’s fine, right? It’s not until they’re three minutes apart that it really matters.”

“And how long are yours?” Rebecca asks.

You don’t want to look at her. “Six,” you whisper.

“SIX?” she yells. “Darling, you need to go. I’ll call Ted, he’ll pull Jamie, and then you’ll go.”

Keeley has come in by this point and fully assessed the situation. “Babes, you can’t stick around till the game ends. You have to go.”

You hold up a hand. “I’m fine. Richmond needs Jamie. It can wait.”

Rebecca clicks her tongue. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but we’re up by two and also it’s just a football game. It doesn’t matter. You are about to have a child so let me get your husband for you.”

“Ok,” you say meekly. “Can I come with you?”

Rebecca calls Ted and you wait by the entrance to the pitch. Ted has barely put out the call to switch out number nine when Jamie is sprinting across the field to you. You’re at the hospital in record time, and that’s how Beatrice Georgie Tartt is born.

—

You and Jamie had a lot of conversations about what it’s like to be parents. You had the standard “What if I turn out like my dad,” chat (easily dispelled by the fact that he takes after his mum) and the “Baby comes before football,” chat which you needed to hear but definitely did not retain. That one was difficult for both of you, because you didn’t mind pausing your career for motherhood. You knew it would be waiting for you when you were ready to go back, but that isn’t really the case for Jamie. He’s in his prime right now, and it takes a lot of work. You had worked things out on paper, but life is never that easy. Newborns require a lot of attention, and neither of you were sleeping well. Jamie had taken two weeks off training but was back by the third. The only problem was, he was back to his regular 4am training. It’s easy to get enough sleep when you can pick when you go to bed, but not so much when your daughter needs to be fed, changed, burped, whatever every single hour.

In other words, you both were tired and snippy.

Bea was four and a half weeks old when the last straw came.

It was 2:30 am, and you was so, so tired. She needed a diaper change and you felt like you physically couldn’t get out of bed so you poked Jamie.

“Babe,” you say.

“Hm,” he groans, voice gravelly.

“Can you please change her? I can’t move,”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed babe, but I have training with Roy in an hour. I can’t get up every time she needs something. That’s your job.”

Instantly, you are wide awake.

You’ve never heard Jamie take that tone of voice with you before. Never heard it be that intentionally cutting.

You sit up. “Excuse me?”

He rolls over to face you. “You heard me. I don’t have time for this right now. It’s your job, you take care of it. This is not what I signed up for and anyway, you’re the one who wanted a baby, not me. You go deal with it.” He rolls back over to go to sleep and you just stare at him. You're too tired to fight but then Bea cries again and you say, “Jamie what the fuck.”

“Look, babe, I can always go stay in a hotel and get some sleep. You’re the one who wants me to be here with you,” he replies, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Don’t ‘look, babe’ me, Jamie Tartt,” you say, voice icy. “I’m not sure if you recall, but you were the one who told me that Bea would always come before football and you are the one who decided you wanted to get married and you were the one who made all those speeches convincing me that you’d be with me for better or for worse. Well I’ve got news for you: it’s worse.” You get out of bed. “I’m going to change our daughter, and I hope next time I see you, you’ve had an attitude adjustment.”

That must get to him because he sits up and goes, “Babe-” but you’re already out the door.

You end up sitting with Bea on her rocker until 5am, which means you hear Jamie get up to leave with Roy. It also means you notice that he doesn’t come in to say goodbye, just leaves. You stare down at Bea in your arms. She has his eyes and the beginnings of your nose. By 6am you’ve made another choice, and you call your sister to ask her to help move some of your things into your old flat.

—

You leave a note on the counter that says: Jamie. Bea and I are giving you space, and you’re gone by 1. You spend all evening looking at your phone, waiting for a text from Jamie, or a call, or something. Nothing. Your sister doesn’t need much of an explanation and it’s your flat anyway, so she was alright with you and Bea moving in. She made dinner and held Bea, then forcibly made you go to sleep. Her work is flexible, so she said she’d take care of Bea until she had to leave on a trip in two days.

Yet, although you finally had the chance to sleep, you couldn’t. You tossed and turned all night, periodically checking your phone for a text that never came.

—

A week and a half has gone by. Your sister is gone still, so it’s just you and Bea. She’s been crying so much recently, and the thought comes to you unbidden of every time Jamie has held her. She quiets down the moment she’s in his arms like clockwork. You’re running on no sleep and you need to go get groceries so that morning you pack up a diaper bag, put Bea in the car, and force yourself not to care that you look like absolute shit.

You’re almost done shopping when you hear a voice call your name. You turn, and there’s Sam.

“I thought that was you,” he says. “I’ve been meaning to check up on you so I went by your house yesterday, but Jamie said you and Bea were out and he didn’t know when you’d be back. How are you?”

You let out a snort. “Oh he did, did he? That’s rich.”

Sam’s face shifts to concern. “Is everything alright? I don’t mean to pry, but part of the reason I wanted to see how you are is that Jamie has been terrible. He’s been an absolute prick for almost two weeks now and we all just assumed it was lack of sleep.”

You smile, because right now your options are that or cry.

“I’m living in my flat right now. My sister’s on vacation, so it’s just me and Bea. It’s kind of a lot, which is why I look like garbage. I don’t have time to clean or anything either, otherwise I’d invite you around. Anyway. Thanks for asking. Good to see you, Sam.”

You walk away before you either overshare more or start crying, and in your haste you don’t see Sam watching you leave, concern written all over his face.

—

It’s the late afternoon when you hear a knock on your door. It’s Jamie your heart says, but when you open it, Sam, Dani, and Richard are standing on the step laden down with grocery bags, huge smiles on their face.

Before you can say anything, Sam says, “I hope this is not overstepping, but I noticed you had frozen meals in your cart this morning. I was thinking that we could cook you some meals to keep in the freezer, that way you do not have to worry about it.” You open your mouth to protest when Dani interjects. “Besides, we’re a family. Bea is my favorite niece and you are my second favorite sister. We should have seen if you needed help earlier.”

They look so sincere that you smile for the first time in a while and move to let them in. Richard goes to work clearing space in the kitchen while Sam and Dani organize their groceries. It looks like they’ve all gotten ingredients from their native countries, and Dani holds up a bag of chiles and says, “I brought these to make your favorite!”

You’re not sure how he knows of your love for chile rellenos, but he does and as you go to sit on the couch to feed Bea, you feel something close to relief.

Bea is done eating and the kitchen is filled with light conversation and music when there is another knock on your door.

You open it to see Isaac, Colin, Zoreaux, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas all decked out in cleaning gear and rubber gloves, holding various cleaning sprays, brooms, and mops.

To say you are speechless is an understatement.

“Sam texted us,” Isaac says. “Said something about needing a cleaning service and a babysitter.”

You let them in without a word.

The flat is filled with chatter as they stand around the living room.

“Alright!” Isaac calls. “We’re going to divide and conquer! Colin, you’re on laundry. Zoreaux, you’re sweeping and mopping. Bumbercatch and Jan Maas, you’re on bathroom duty. Alright lads, let’s go!”

“Isaac,” Colin says, “what’s your job?”

Isaac looks at him. “I’m the captain, mate. I’m watching Bea.”

Groans go up from the boys and a chorus of “We want to hold her, why do you get to, I’m her favorite!” when Isaac silences them with an “Oi!”

“When you’ve finished your job and Bea and I have thoroughly inspected them, then maybe you can hold her after you’ve disinfected your hands and arms. Now get to it!”

“Isaac,” you say, pulling on his arm, “you don’t have to do this. Especially not the laundry or the bathrooms.”

He looks down at you, serious look on his face. “Is that for privacy reasons, or are you trying not to impose?”

You hesitate and debate lying. In the end, you tell the truth: “I don’t care about like privacy or whatever, it’s just gross. I don’t want you guys to have to do that.”

Isaac doesn’t respond, just says, “Can I wear the wrap?” so you go to get it and watch as he expertly puts it on and slides Bea in. She lets out a sigh and falls asleep on his chest.

“Right then. Now for your job,” he says to you.

You let out a singular laugh. “What do you have for me, captain?”

“I want you to go to your room, clear off the bed, close the door, and go to sleep. I’ll send Sam or Colin up to wake you if we need you. If you end up sleeping through then night, a few of us will stick around to make sure Bea’s alright. You still have Netflix, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to head down the hall then turn and say, “Isaac?”

“Hm?” he replies.

“Thanks. This means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Isaac waves that away then points to your bedroom door.

You walk in and shut the door, then are lulled to sleep by the white noise of having half of the Richmond team in your house cleaning, cooking, and reminding you that you are not alone.

—

You’re woken up by Sam shaking your shoulder. It’s golden hour, so soft light streams through the room. The first thing you notice is how quiet it is. You sit up.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sam says, but he’s not smiling. “We just need you downstairs for a minute.”

You follow him to the living room where the boys are standing behind a couch, arms crossed and backs to you, staring down something on the opposite couch.

Sam clears his throat and they turn to look at you. Bea is still passed out on Isaac in her wrap. They part slightly and you see what they’re looking at.

Jamie Tartt gives you a halfhearted wave from where he sits on your couch.

“Got a minute?” he asks.

Shit.

You sit across from him and just look.

He has the grace to look sheepish. “Look, d’you mind if we talk- like just you and me? Without-” he gestures to the boys.

“No,” Dani, Colin, and Jan Maas chorus, arms crossed, and Jamie nods once in a that’s fair type of way.

Jamie takes a deep breath. “Look, I- I was out with Roy today and we were training, and he called me a prick and he meant it, and maybe I was being a prick, but I shoved him and then he knocked me down and was all ‘what the fuck is wrong with you,’ and I said ‘none of your fucking business,’ and then he said something about a text from Sam and made me tell him what was going on. So I told him that you left and he said,” here Jamie does his best Roy Kent impression, “‘Did she leave or did you fucking kick her out because you were acting like a little bitch prima donna who can’t handle being a grown fucking man?’”

Jamie pauses for a moment. “So I thought about it, and I did fuckin kick you out like I was a little bitch prima donna. And the reason I didn’t text ya or call ya is because I thought you’d come back when you were ready, or maybe you left for good and I fucked something else up. And I didn’t want to be like me dad who was always showing up when my mum didn’t want him to, so I just stayed away. And I said that to Roy and he told me I needed to man the fuck up because I was acting like a whiny brat.” Jamie scratches the back of his neck. “I brought you flowers and came to apologize and tell you that I’m done acting like a kid.”

You squint at him and say, “Apologize for what, exactly?” because you want to know that he knows what he did.

Without hesitation Jamie says, “For telling you that Bea was your job and not mine, and for saying that I didn’t sign up for any of this and making it seem like I didn’t care and saying that I was going to sleep in a hotel by meself.”

Oh. So he does know.

There’s a ripple of whispered oh fucks and you realize that the lads don’t actually know what happened between you and Jamie, and this is the first time they’re hearing about it.

Before you can say anything, Jan Maas says, “How do we know you’ve changed?” followed by a chorus of “Yeah, that’s right,” from the boys.

“Eh, well,” Jamie begins before he is interrupted by a piercing cry from Bea. Isaac tries to hush her, but she just keeps going.

“There’s no way she’s hungry,” he says, “She just had a bottle fifteen minutes ago and I changed her five minutes after that.”

Jamie looks questioningly at you. “Can I-”

The whole team turns to look at you. You nod, and Isaac removes a still crying Bea and gently hands her to Jamie. She’s barely settled into his arms when she has gone completely silent, lets out a sigh, and falls asleep.

“I suppose that is that,” says Richard, and the rest of AFC Richmond shrugs.

“Jamie Tartt,” you say. Everyone looks at you again. “If you ever, and I mean ever pull shit like this again, I will fucking sic this entire room on you and I will call Roy and I will not care how long you end up in the hospital. I can’t raise Bea on my own, but it turns out that I don’t need you.”

Jamie looks like he’s about to cry a little and you soften.

“I don’t need you, but I want you. And- I do miss you.”

Jamie smiles at that and you get up to sit next to him.

The boys murmur amongst themselves, and Isaac salutes you as he herds them out. You mouth thank you to him, and he waves it away yet again, leaving the three of you on the couch in comfortable silence for the first time in weeks.

—

Marriage is not easy, neither is raising a kid. Things didn’t automatically go back to how they were, but you and Jamie did get better. You got better at talking about your struggles, decided 2:30am is not a good time to fight, and began working out a healthy football-life balance. He trains with Roy three times a week instead of six, and Isaac and Colin babysit Bea once a month so you can go out. They’re the only ones besides Rebecca who are allowed to be with her unsupervised. (Not because the others are untrustworthy, but because they don’t know what to do with a baby) so by the time Theodore Dani Tartt comes around, you’ve got this thing nailed.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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cacoetheswriting · 1 year

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celebrity skin.

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 6.5k summary: as corroded coffin frontman, eddie munson regards himself as perhaps the most important person in hollywood. that's until he meets you — america’s favourite starlet.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: adult language & mature themes, porn with a rather angsty plot, general heavy petting / kissing, teasing, fingering, quite rough yet protected p in v sex, borderline overstimulation, eddie is a little dom, light praise kink, dirty talk, use of pet names & very slight degradation, mentions of alcohol & drug consumption, mentions of blood (reader unintentionally hurts herself), emotional hurt / topics of guilt — if i missed anything, pls let me know! also, not proofread.

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.

“Absolutely not.”

Impossible to read between the lines with those two simple words, but if anyone dared to try regardless, the absolute disapproval and disdain in Eddie’s tone of voice stopped them from doing so. At least that’s what the Corroded Coffin frontman hoped.

It took a lot to catch Eddie Munson off guard. Given everything he’s endured in his life, nothing surprised him anymore ‘cause he made sure to be prepared for every single scenario. A little neurotic? Yes. Needed for his own piece of mind? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Obviously there had been exceptions over the years — especially being in the limelight with easy access to substances that weren’t too good for his health and nothing but extensive amounts of cash to burn. The other guys had invested their paychecks, Gareth even started a family. Eddie on the other hand, well, he bought a mansion in Beverly Hills and threw parties every night of the week.

The heavy drinking clouded his judgement and damaged his liver, but Eddie still kept tabs on his inner circle and made sure to be informed of any moves the label was trying to make before official announcements.

Which is why when he stumbled into the recording studio an hour later than scheduled, extremely hungover and with an unlit cigarette between his teeth, he really thought he misheard the news announced by their long-time manager, Marianne.

“A feature. The label wants it, she wants it. Honestly, Eddie, no point in fighting it. It’s a done deal.”

Marianne’s words were ringing in his ears. To make matters worse, the whole band apparently knew about this. For a long time, at that. They just collectively chose not to tell him out of fear of his “overreaction”, as Gareth put it.

“Well, I don’t want it.” Eddie grumbles. A reaction worthy of a little kid more so than a famous rockstar. “I refuse.”

Jeff clears his throat, glancing between the group before settling his eyes on Eddie.

“Man, it’s just one song. Not like she’s been asked to permanently join the band,” he tries to be the voice of reason.

Eddie just scoffs. He’s on the couch, eyes closed and hand pressed to his forehead with a third cigarette in between his fingers. He refused to believe this was happening.

“A feature and a music video,” Marianne chimes.

Jeff sighs. “You’re really not helping your case here.”

But their manager just shrugs. “There’s no case to help. Like I said, it’s a done deal. Y’all are doing this feature with America’s favourite starlet and y’all are gonna have smiles on your fucking faces in the process.” Marianne states and what she says, usually goes. “Are you hearing me, Eddie?”

Usually.

“I ain’t doing shit.”

“Eddie—” Gareth feels like it’s his turn to help the situation, but he just gets rudely interrupted.

“Shut up, Gareth! Everyone, just shut the fuck up!” Eddie’s outburst accompanies him jumping up onto his feet. He’s angry, clearly. Glaring at the group as if he’s endured the worst possible betrayal. “Last I fucking checked, this was my fucking band! I have a say in what’s a done deal and this is not one of those things!”

The boys don’t speak. They look to Marianne who seemed to always know how to calm Eddie down. She had this aura about her. Almost motherly, even though she couldn’t have been more than five years older than the Corroded Coffin frontman — an estimate as she’s never told them her actual age.

Marianne crosses the studio until she’s standing toe to toe with the curly-haired singer. He’s towering over her, but she’s got the upper hand — as always.

First, she takes the cigarette he was holding and takes a drag, crossing her arms while blowing the smoke away from his face. The silence extends from seconds to minutes, almost as if she’s daring Eddie to continue.

He doesn’t. So she clears her throat.

“Now that we’re done with the temper tantrum,” Marianne says calmly, “At risk of sounding like a complete and utter bitch, Eddie, my darlin’, you have lost your right to call this band yours after the last stunt you pulled cost the label thousands of dollars in damages. Not to mention the absolute nightmare it’s been to keep it out of the stupid tabloids.”

“I apologised—”

“Thousands of dollars, Eddie. Your apology ain’t worth shit.”

Marianne walks over to an ashtray and puts out the reminisce of the cigarette. She briefly glances between the rest of the band before settling her gaze on Eddie once again.

“The people actually in charge think this collaboration has the potential of being an absolute hit. A song played for generations to come and for once, I actually agree with them.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything. He knows deep down he has lost the argument, so he had nothing left to add.

“Guys, you gotta know y’all are my priority and I would never do anything to jeopardise your career. Ever.” Marianne reassures. The boys all say they know. All of them apart from Eddie.

He’s back on the couch. Sitting with his legs apart, elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands. Sulking and wishing he hadn’t forgotten his pouch of pre-rolled joints ‘cause he could really use one right about now.

When no one else speaks, Marianne heads for the door.

“She’ll be here tomorrow. Please be on time.”

That last part was aimed at Eddie, who in that moment lifts his head to address his manager one more time before she leaves.

“I have a question,” his tone of voice is cold, understandably so. When Marianne doesn’t protest, he continues. “How come America’s pride and joy wants to sing a song with a band often accused of devil worship?”

A smile Eddie can’t really decipher circles his manager’s lips.

“Guess you’ll just have to ask her in person.”

When a person is repeatedly told they are meant for incredible things, they may grow up with a skewed vision of life.

Thankfully, the only person that’s ever believed in you that much was your Nana and it was pretty hard to take her seriously considering her history — a lady who after an accidental pregnancy in her early-twenties, joined and later escaped a cult, then conned her way into marrying a Wall Street suit-man, before getting hooked on pills he was prescribed for some back injury he had.

The man died before he could divorce her, leaving Nana his small fortune and a property in Greenwich Village. You didn’t even know his real name since every time she’s told the story she used a different one, and also changed other minor details.

So you never thought twice about her constant, “You’re going to be a star one day, baby girl.”. In retrospect, you should have. Perhaps it would have prepared you for the world of fame and fortune you were so briskly thrown into.

“Mom, please don’t fill her head with jargon. She’s just going to end up disappointed.”

That’s not to say your parents weren’t also supportive of your dreams. They were, although they believed them to be much smaller at scale, a nurse perhaps, an astronaut at best. Definitely not a popstar sensation and America’s sweetheart.

Your parents met at a charity function your Nana was a co-chair at and instantly clicked. Love at first sight, is how it was described in the paper for their engagement announcement not even a month later. Married shortly after and their first baby was born exactly a year later. Billy Wilder couldn’t write that shit even if he tried.

You always wanted to experience that kind of love.

The longing you endured every time you saw your parents interact was the reason you started writing poetry. Words a little too deep for a ten-year old girl to have actually experienced, but they felt right. By the time you were old enough to actually pursue a romantic relationship, you filled countless notebooks with poems that had actually turned into lyrics after your Nana encouraged to sponsor your piano lessons at age twelve and later guitar.

Ironic, really. Not meant to believe in your own potential success, but destined to think your happiness depended on somebody else.

Shortly after your twenty-first birthday, your Nana asked you to perform at one of her functions. A simple wish you had gratified many times before.

“But you only sing the covers, okay? The material in your notepads is reserved for when you’re famous.” Nana would request, mainly ‘cause she liked when you sang Dusty Springfield.

This particular event started out like every other. What you didn’t know however, in the crowd, amongst the usual New York elite, were a few agents and talent scouts your Nana specifically invited to see you perform.

By the end of the night, you had a signed record deal.

A week later, you were in the studio.

Lucky doesn’t begin to describe how you felt at that time. Although knowing your Nana, luck had nothing to do with it.

After the release of your debut single, you rocketed into overnight stardom. Quickly charting in various top lists, only proving your Nana had always been right. As a result, the late 80s were in fact a blur. The years were spent shooting music videos and various magazine covers, doing TV and radio interviews, touring, all on top of releasing more music. Aside from the casual hookup every now and again, carefully concealed with an NDA to preserve your image, finding love took a backburner.

By the 1990s, you’d gone from being America’s sweetheart to a worldwide phenomenon.

It was at that point in time you remembered why you started writing poems in the first place. Completely by accident, as these things usually go.

While your life remained in New York, given your profession, you often travelled to Los Angeles. Late August of 1992, to be a bit more precise, there was this pool party you really had no business attending.

Holly — your makeup artist, close friend, and permanent plus one — used her perfectly manicured finger to stir the melting ice-cubes at the bottom of her glass. She said something about getting a refill, but you barely registered. Simply nodded at her words before pressing the glass you were holding to your lips. Your focus was somewhere else. Rather on someone else.

As Holly stood, you reach for her forearm and motion your head in the direction you wanted her to look in.

“Who’s that?” A simple question that ended up changing the remainder of your life.

Holly smirked. She turned back to you and you forced yourself to look away from the person in question, meeting your friends eyes instead.

“Seriously?”

You furrowed your brows at her reaction, as if to say you really had no idea, and her gaze widened slightly when she realised you weren’t kidding.

“That’s Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin, remember I played you some of their songs? Anyway, this is his house, his party.”

With that, she took the half-empty drink from my grasp and walked away.

Eddie Munson, the name suited him, at least at face value. You had heard of Corroded Coffin before, but their music wasn’t really your style, hence why you never really bothered to learn anything more about them. Yet now, here you were, wishing you had cared a little more in the past ‘cause perhaps you’d have the courage to walk up to their frontman.

Eddie wore a black bandana, tied loosely only to shield him from the sun as his brown locks draped over his bare shoulders. A wide collection of ink art covered almost every inch of the skin on his arms and chest, legs too, at least the parts that weren’t covered by ripped denim shorts. There was a cigarette between his lips and it remained in position even while he was laughing. He was pretty. Judging by the crowd of girls around him, you weren’t the only one to notice.

Exhaling softly, you abandoned your spot on one of the lounge chairs and embarked on a mission to find Holly, or at least something else to drink. The back door to the house is open, so without really thinking, you slipped inside, straight into the kitchen.

Pristine. The entire space. Almost as if no one's ever cooked here, which now that you knew the owner, made sense. Not to completely judge a book by its cover, but Eddie didn’t look like the type of guy who enjoyed cooking all that much.

“The house is off limits.”

A deep voice startled you. Jumping in your spot, you hit a corner of the stone centre island as you turned to address the person who walked in. Oh shit.

Eddie Munson’s eyes locked onto your frame, now that you are facing him fully. He licked his lips rather shamelessly as his gaze travelled the length of your bare legs and continued upwards until it reached your own. A shiver ran down your spine in the process ‘cause even though you were practically fully dressed, you felt completely naked.

“Sorry,” you were quick to apologise, “I was just looking for my friend.”

“The house is off limits,” Eddie repeated as he took a few steps closer.

“Again, I’m sorry. I really was just looking for someone,” you said and it was the truth, whether he believed it or now. “What are— What are you doing?”

“You’re bleeding.”

You glanced down at where his ring-clad fingers now met your skin, a tissue paper you didn’t even realise he grabbed, wrapped between them. He wiped slowly. His touch was soft, gentle even, which was surprising to you given his demeanour.

“Wow, yeah. Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break into your house and then bleed in your kitchen.”

Eddie chuckled at your words. “You apologise a lot. Is that part of this act they have you doin’ or is it genuine?”

“Act?”

He nodded then straightened his posture. He tossed the dirty tissue to the side before taking your hand and leading you out of the kitchen. The way your fingers aligned together quite perfectly should’ve come with a warning sign, but you didn’t really think about that in the moment, more concerned with the fact he was pulling you away from the party.

“Where are we going?”

“Bathroom. Can’t have you bleeding out in my kitchen, sweetheart.” Eddie joked lightheartedly. “Plus wouldn’t want anyone taking a sneaky picture of us. Could start a bunch of nasty rooms. Good for my career, not so much yours.”

“Because of my act?”

“You get it.”

The master bedroom, you assume, is a lot larger in comparison to yours. A lot darker too, though that’s a given considering your opposite styles. Eddie was careful to lock the door behind the two of you before pointing to the bathroom and following after you.

“Sit.”

You obliged without question, positioning yourself on the sink. Eddie failed to conceal a ‘cause he didn’t think you’d do as you were told without putting up at least a bit of a fight. After all, he was a stranger with a reputation for doing ungodly things when alone with girls, but with your legs dangling off the edge, you didn’t seem tense or scared. In fact, if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d say you were quite comfortable and he liked it. So with a smile still circling his lips, he began his search for the first aid kit he knew he saw here last.

“Why do you think it’s an act?”

Eddie glanced at you briefly. There is a sense of urgency in your question, almost as if his answer, his opinion, actually mattered to you. Which it did. For whatever reason, his response had the potential to hurt you. If he thought you weren’t genuine, it would hurt you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you want my honesty.”

You half-scoffed. “Actually, I don’t remember the last time someone was actually honest with me about anything relating to my career.”

The answer shocked him a little. Then again it made sense. In the eyes of your management team and label, you were a money making machine. Nothing more than a pretty face with a pretty voice they used to make themselves rich.

“Even my own parents,” you continued, fidgeting with the bottom of your cotton shorts. “They were so adamant not to let my grandmother fill my head with hopes and dreams while I was growing up, but the second those hopes and dreams came true, it’s like they forgot they were still my parents and should sometimes be brutally honest.”

Pausing, you bit down on your bottom lip. From across the bathroom, Eddie's gaze immediately trailed down your face and settled on where your teeth sank into flesh. He licked his own, eyes darkening for a split second.

“Sorry, I’m oversharing,” you muttered, breaking him away from any sinful thoughts that wanted to break free. “Telling you my life story even though not even thirty minutes ago, I didn’t know your name.”

Eddie smirked, a cheshire-cat grin spreading across his features. “The only thing you should be apologising for, sweetheart, is the fact you came to my party and didn’t know who I was.”

“I get invited to a lot of parties,” you defended, involuntarily rolling your eyes at his not so subtle cockiness. “Suppose you think all the girls swoon at the chance to be near you, huh? Sorry to disappoint, I guess.”

“Well, shit. Talk about brutal honesty.” Eddie teased and ran a hand through his locks, taking off his bandana in the process. “Now I feel like a fucking creep ‘cause I seem to know quite a bit about you.”

“Whatever you know is clearly wrong since I’m not some character,” you interjected and he glanced at you once again. “I mean my whole thing wasn’t an act at first.”

“And now?”

You sighed. “It’s a little more complicated.”

That made him laugh. “See, that’s why I don’t let my label or management tell me shit. My band, my music, my style. If I wasn’t unapologetically myself, I’d go fucking insane.”

He eventually found the first aid kit and the plasters within. Back in front of you, he gently wiped the cut on your upper leg again, only this time with a wet towel, and carefully put a plaster over it.

“All done.”

“Thank you.”

His hand remained on your skin as he looked up to hold your gaze. In the sharp bathroom light, you realised just how perfectly brown his eyes are and you couldn’t help but wonder if anyone’s ever told him that. You secretly hoped they didn’t. A little lame, but you found yourself wanting to be at least his first something.

Eddie on the other hand, thought about how of all the people here tonight, he wound up alone with you. Pop royalty. American treasure. A girl that’s graced the cover of magazines and been on talk shows he would never feature on. A girl who sold millions of copies of songs he wouldn’t be caught dead listening to. A girl so vastly different from him, it only made him want you more.

Continuing to stare deep into his chocolate-button eyes, you lifted your arm and since Eddie didn’t flinch, you proceeded to loop a loose strand of his hair around your finger then let it go. Eddie’s heart jumped into his throat as you repeated the action — a sensation he’s never really experienced before.

How come you had this hold on him, seemingly out of nowhere? A simple smile and a modest tease had his mind racing. Not to mention the softness of your skin under his grasp you didn’t try to break away from. Perhaps that was it. You didn’t push him away. You also didn’t throw yourself at him. Those were the two extremes he usually experienced. Knowing you had just about learned who he was before the two of you landed in this situation was a refreshing change from the people usually breaking into his house.

“We can go back to the party, since you’re all patched up.” Eddie offered, though his actions betrayed his words as he effortlessly parted your legs with his knee, creating a gap he slid into perfectly.

“What’s the alternative?” You asked in a whisper.

“Whatever you want it to be,” he murmured, face now inches away from yours. A genuine smile graced your features as you wrapped your arms around the rockstars neck.

It may have moved a little too fast, though there were no complaints from either of you at the time. In fact, you both welcomed it. Losing yourself completely in the moment and this magnetic pull you felt towards one another was freeing. A spark ignited with a touch, then a kiss — and fuck was Eddie Munson a good kisser.

His lips were tender, although his actions were rather harsh. Desperate even, as he squeezed your jaw with one hand and pushed his mouth into yours further. You returned the same energy, aching to be even closer. Heads rotating in perfect rhythm, you tugged at his hair and he groaned against your mouth at the slight pressure then lightly bit your bottom lip to force his tongue down your throat.

He tasted of tobacco and whiskey. Normally that kind of shit puts you off, but with Eddie, it was honestly intoxicating. He quickly asserted dominance, tongue intertwining itself with yours as his ring-clad fingers dug into your flesh. You moaned into his mouth. The flame inside you burning brighter with every passing second.

Eddie’s head was spinning. He pulled apart briskly, only to catch his breath before he dipped his head to your neck. Licking then biting, sucking and kissing. Both his hands were back on your waist and they effortlessly pulled you closer towards him, the bulge concealed by his denim shorts now pressing against your bare thigh.

His name escaped you repeatedly in mere whispers and whimpers, and you felt Eddie’s mouth turn up into a smirk against your neck. “Fuck, sweetheart. Don’t stop makin’ them pretty noises for me.”

“Then don’t stop kissing me.”

A request he gladly obliged as his lips found yours once again. This kiss was slower than your first, but equally as passionate. His strong hands moved up, under the loose cover of your shirt until he reached your underboob.

“I was gonna complain about you wearing so much clothes to a fucking pool party, but…” Eddie draws out the last syllable as his thumbs grazes over your hard nipples. “... this way is so much better, sweetheart.”

“Then keep going,” you whisper, body screaming with desire, aching for more. Begging to be touched. Begging to be turned into a fire, tipped off with gasoline.

This was a dangerous game you were playing, getting hooked on a man you had only really met. A rockstar at that. Your lives, although borderline the same, were completely different. Your gut kept telling you there was no future here, but your heart didn’t care. You’ve gotten an accidental taste of Eddie Munson and you only wanted more.

Thankfully, it seemed like Eddie had the same idea.

He removes his hands from your breasts and drops them down to the waistband of your shorts. He kissed you again as his fingers desperately worked at the single button acting as a guard between him and what he wanted most this very moment.

“Can you lift yourself for a moment, sweetheart?”

You do as you’re told, allowing Eddie to slide the shorts past the curve off your ass, before letting them fall down your legs and to the tiled floor. His dark eyes meet yours as he grabs onto your thighs, squeezing at the flesh. And he holds your gaze while his fingers work their way upwards. You don’t realise you’re holding your breath until he’s pulling your panties to the side.

Oh. Oh.

Eddie’s running a finger up and down the length of your slit, proud to feel how soaked you already were. The light teasing continued as he added another finger and you flinched at the first contact to your clit. He was relentless. Taking his time as you tried to arch your pelvis into his fingers, only to be met with a hand around your jaw, “Stop that.”

Releasing your face, he stroked his fingers downward, then up again, finally letting a finger linger on the hood of your clit. He began to draw little circles so that the skin moved over the head, rhythmically exposing and covering it.

“Eddie…” you drawled and he groaned at the sound of his name in your desperate tone of voice. So he didn’t waste any more time, slipped two ring-clad fingers easily between your folds and you shuddered at the cold of the metal. He repeated the action over and over, faster and applying more pressure with each time.

His mouth found yours once again, only this time he didn’t kiss you. Not really. Instead, his teeth latched onto your bottom lip and as you whined desperately while his curled fingers repeatedly hit that sweet spot inside you, he bit down harder.

He fucked his fingers in and out of you. It was messy, rough, ecstatic. Then your back arched as he used his other hand to rub against your clit.

“Oh shit, fuck. Eddie, please don’t stop…”

You let your head fall backwards, eyes closing. Within seconds, a shuddering orgasm overcame you, but with steady control, Eddie kept going for what seemed like a minute. Only once you began to relax, he eased his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, licking them clean.

“How you doin’, sweetheart?”

A content hum was all you could offer. Satisfied, Eddie smiled to himself and placed a sloppy kiss to the slant of your jawline.

“Are you okay to keep going?”

You looked back at him then and bopped your head once, slowly. “Yeah… Yes.”

His devilish grin widened. “Good girl. Hold tight.”

Hands shifting to the curve of your ass as you wrapped your legs tight around him, Eddie lifted you up with little to no effort and carried you towards the bed. He didn’t take much care to drop you gently so you bounced against the mattress while he hastily removed his pants and crawled over you, grinding down into you — unsurprising, he’d gone commando.

He began to rotate his hips so that his cock was massaging back and forth across your semi-clothed cunt. He alternated his movements; sometimes slowed them down while other times increasing speed. His lips were glued to your neck in the moment, only adding to the pure exhilaration you were experiencing, while he worked to unbutton your shirt, spreading it to the side.

Forehead pressed yours, he glanced down briefly to admire your now naked chest. Your nipples were rapidly erect as Eddie proceeded to move his hands around them, massaging the tissue of your breasts. With splayed fingers, he squeezed and released, then lightly pulled the flesh, while his teeth attached themselves to your earlobe.

The teasing was relentless. “Eddie… Oh Eddie, please,” you whined quietly and another moan escaped your lips, louder this time.

The brunette on top of you groaned a mere second later. Unable to contain himself any longer, he tugged at your panties. Just as eager, you lifted your ass so he could slide the remaining garment off and toss it. Now you were naked in front of him, only the cotton shirt covering your arms.

“Shit, sweetheart. You’re so fucking beautiful.” Eddie whispered and lightly ran his fingers up and down your leg, while the other hand reached to cup your cheek. He leaned down to kiss you again. “My pretty girl.”

Heat rushed between your legs at the moniker. They parted a little more, desperate to increase the contact between the two of you.

“Let me grab a condom,” Eddie muttered against your bare skin and you nodded, releasing your hold on him momentarily ‘cause you didn’t want any accidental pregnancies with a potential to ruin your career, and even his.

Staring up at the ceiling, you heard him rummage through his bedside table. He’s back in your field of vision within seconds. There’s a look on his face that reads “are you sure you wanna do this”, and you tangle your fingers in his locks in response, pulling him closer.

Eddie lets his cock fall between your parted legs. He’s back to teasing you as he’s spreading your folds with the head of his dick, until it flicks over your clit. And you tug at his curls in the process, but he doesn’t care. A lustful look in his eyes. One that says, I can do this all night. Which he proves as the tip of his cock dragged across the entrance to your glistening cunt. Your legs would close slightly as if to trap it in that position. Eddie however, remained in full control.

“Please, please…” you begged against his hot mouth, “Please just fuck me. Fuck me, Eddie.”

He smirked. “Didn’t think America’s starlet was such a desperate fucking slut.”

With that, Eddie slammed the full length of his cock into you. No longer teasing. He was driving into your sodden cunt with a force that shook your entire body. His now glistening cock plunging in and out of you with ease. You were meeting his thrusts as best as you could while trapped under his massive frame.

To say you were experiencing a state of ecstasy you had never known before while fucking a man you’d only met an hour or so ago, would be a vast understatement. You felt dizzy and breathless as each stroke of his thick cock against your walls ignited the fire already burning bright. The sounds you were making were absolutely pornographic and in that moment, you were grateful Eddie locked the door ‘cause if anyone from the party were to come looking for him, or you, well let’s just say Page Six would have something interesting to write about, for once. This was a site to be seen.

Eddie leaned forward on his elbows, not like it was possible to be any closer but he sure as hell tried. One of his hands enveloped itself around your neck, while the other found your perfect tits. He alternated, kneading them and teasing your nipples, earning another sweet moan to escape through your parted lips. Then he lightly squeezed your neck and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Such a pretty girl,” Eddie muffled into your ear. “Fuck, baby. I don’t know what you’ve done to me. Just wanna fuck you forever.” He meant it. Your pussy felt amazing wrapped around his cock. Better than he imagined. Better in fact than anyone he’d ever been with.

The room was filled with sick sounds, from the squeaking of the bed, Eddie’s grunts and gruffs, to the pounding your aching cunt was receiving. You had completely given yourself over to the rawness of the situation, although it’s not like you had any inhibitions in the first place.

As Eddie continued to whisper dirty things into your ear, the length of his shaft sliding in and out of you with unnatural force, you buried your head in the crook of his neck, muffling only slightly your increasing guttural groans with each of his thrusts. And as your fingers abandoned his locks, trailing instead down his back, fingernails digging into his tattooed skin, you knew another climax was fast approaching.

“Eddie,” you barely muttered.

“Come on, baby. That’s it. Shit—”

He’s panting as he squeezes your neck again, recreating the pressure your throbbing cunt was feeling. That pushed you over the edge. Everything falls to a standstill as you come undone around him, crying out his name as if he was some sort of god; which in this moment, he might as well have been.

He didn’t give you a second to recover, continuing to fuck into you with such heedlessness, his own orgasm follows shortly after. He dropped on top of you and you gasped at the next few sharp thrusts, although slower than before right up until he cums.

“Fuck— Pretty girl, takes me so well.” Eddie breathed, completely blissed out.

The two of you lay there for a few moments longer, trying to catch your breaths. Everything was quite peaceful as you brushed his hair away from his face, gently forcing him to look at you. You offer him a smile. One he returns quite gladly.

Usually at this point, Eddie’s doing everything he can to get rid of the other person, but with you it felt different. He wanted you here for as long as you’d stay.

So, even though he didn’t admit it out loud, he was more than a little happy when you openly asked if you could “stick around” a little longer, maybe even fall asleep with him that night.

The last time Eddie had seen you, you were picking up your scattered garments off his bedroom floor before getting dressed. It was early. Too early for him, but you had a shoot you needed to get to and he wanted to kiss you goodbye.

“Promise not to break into any more houses, sweetheart.” Eddie teased against your plush lips, hand cupping your cheek.

“Just yours,” you teased back and kissed him, then again, and again. “I’ll call you later, ‘kay?”

He almost didn’t let you go. He almost pulled you back under the covers for round three and four, and when you didn’t call his place later that day, he kinda wished he had. He hung around by the phone waiting for it to ring, then he felt pathetic for doing so.

The last time Eddie heard from you was a week later. He was back at the studio, working on a song he didn’t want to admit to his bandmates was actually about you. A girl he had no business being hung up on.

It was just one night, he would tell himself, but it was no use.

“Eddie,” Marianne hailed him and pointed to the phone, “Phone call for you.”

The curly-haired rocker exhaled a puff of smoke and picked up the receiver. “Hello. Who’s this?”

“Hey, sorry.”

His heart stopped ‘cause he recognised that voice anywhere. He shifted in his position, turning his back on the rest of the people gathered in the room just so they wouldn’t be able to read the expression on his face — longing.

“I know I said I’d call the second I finished at that shoot, but it went well into the night and honestly I just worried I'd wake you,” you explained. “Then I had a morning flight back to New York, a luncheon my grandmother had me attend plus some other family shit… Anyway, I just wanted to call and apologise, hope you’re not too upset with me.”

He was upset. Although the knowledge of that was a power he couldn't relinquish. Usually, he wasn't the one waiting around for the other person. He was upset he let you cloud his thoughts after only one night — as fucking fun as it may have been.

“It’s okay,” Eddie lied, 'cause it was easier than to say he missed you. “Honestly, sweetheart, I forgot you even said you’d call.”

There was a second of silence in which the rock star closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing while you fought back tears he didn’t even know he caused.

“Right. I guess honesty is what I asked for…” you muttered coldly. “See you around, Eddie.”

The line went dead. Beep. Beep. Beep. Eddie pressed the receiver to his forehead, his grip around it tightening. “Motherfucker—”

“All good?” Jeff asked.

“Yeah man,” Eddie lied again before turning back to the group. “Just some one night stand who mixed up the signals a little. Thought we’d be going out a second time, but I don’t do that shit.”

Not even one year later, that same exact “one night stand” stood in front of Eddie once more and you looked even better than that night last August. Your skin was glowing, or perhaps that was just the dim studio light. Your makeup was definitely a lot sharper and it only highlighted your already near perfect facial structure. Then there was your outfit. Dressed in a short denim skirt, tight on your curves and held snug in place around your waist with a belt he knew was more expensive than anything he’s ever owned, the bottom was paired with a white cashmere turtleneck, short sleeved and cut right above your belly button.

Eddie swallowed thickly. He swore he’d gotten over whatever spell you put him under back then, but as you greeted his bandmates with the biggest smile on your face, looking as good as you did, his heart skipped a beat or two.

“And our frontman, Eddie Munson.” Marianne introduced, glancing at Eddie with an encouraging look on her face.

The curly-haired man wiped his sweaty palms on the sticky pleather of his pants and extended his right hand in your direction. You looked at it briefly, the smile on your face faltering.

“We’ve met before,” is all you said, without even looking at him once, before turning to Marianne. “Should we just get started? I listened to the song, I have no notes, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

Marianne glanced at Eddie then back at you. “Uhm, yeah, sure. Of course. Right this way.”

Eddie’s sad puppy-dog gaze followed you across the room. He observed silently as Marianne propped you in front of the microphone and handed you a set of headphones. He desperately wanted you to look at him. He wanted your eyes to lock with his ‘cause perhaps an unspoken apology offered only by a single exchange of glances would be enough to get you on the right track. But you didn’t.

“What the fuck did you do?” Gareth muttered next to him.

“I fucked up, man.” Eddie answered honestly this time. “Fucked up pretty bad.”

Gareth knew better than to press on the matter further, especially in front of everyone else, so he gently smacked Eddie’s back instead. It was a silent set of condolences, one Eddie definitely didn’t deserve since this was all his fault.

The band had all taken their places. Jesus Christ, he was really in for an unbearable day and he had no one to blame but himself. Sighing silently, Eddie crossed the studio and stood at the microphone, placed only a feet away from yours.

He stole another glance. You still refused to look at him, focusing instead on the carpet between your feet, hands on your hips.

“You know what I’m gonna say,” Marianne began, “But the day I don’t say it, is gonna be the day we make a shit piece of art so, here goes: good luck and have some fucking fun!” Then she disappeared into the other room, behind the glass.

An unsettling silence filled the air.

Usually Eddie would take the lead, but he found himself incapable. His attention was solely focused on you. Every inch of him wanted to shout, beg for any sort of acknowledgement. You continued to give him nothing and he thought you weren’t ever going to look at him again.

But then you did and frankly, that was much worse.

“Honesty, take one,” you said into the microphone while staring deadpan at the rockstar beside you. Confirming, without saying much else, that you knew this song he wrote was in fact about you.

part two

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson story #eddie munson drabble #celebrity skin.

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yurinaa-world · 7 months

Note

Could I request the octatrio with a fem Bennett (genshin impact) like she's really unlucky and always gets herself hurt because I think it would be really cute (specifically with floyd) but yeah so bye ♡

Characters: Azul, Jade, and Floyd x Female Reader

Synopsis: With Bennett reader

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes,

𝒜𝓏𝓊𝓁 𝒜𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓃𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑜

Don’t come near the Mostro Lounge, like don’t even come within a 50-meter radius of it, because he ain’t risking his business and those expensive drinks to shatter all over the ground because someone threw a toothpick on the floor. You slipped on it, the drink your hand didn’t spill, but the straw fell, poked another person in the eye, and their hot drink fell on another person. Who knows what happened next, and now the spilled drinks are on the floor.

Don’t bother to pay it off either. He once came to regret making you work in the lounge; it ended up in you binding the steel tray in half! the ice-cold drinks all over you, with sharp pieces of glass all over the ground.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You seem to come here a lot and break things." Azul gives you a fake smile, but you can tell that he doesn’t want you anywhere close to his beloved Mostro lounge; not that you don’t feel bad, of course you do; you feel terrible about: you always end up breaking something without even wanting to! But since your curse, what can you do? But not this time!

“I’m sorry about everything that happened.” You apologize. Bring out the thing you kept behind your back, a bouquet of flowers that messed up. “I know these flowers don’t look good. I tried to get pretty ones, but somebody already has them." “I’ll take them,” he sighs, taking the flowers from your hand.

"I'll put them in my office.” Hearing those words made me smile brightly. “You don’t have to, but I’m grateful,” he said, smiling a real one this time.

𝒥𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝐿𝑒𝑒𝒸𝒽

He dealt with floyd making problems and messes wherever you went, but you, on the other hand, just break anything you touch or when slipped backwards with glasses in your hands and they break right beside your head and cut your face a little.

He’s your personal first aid kit, always there to patch you up whenever you get hurt, big or small.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“I’m sorry for making a mess,” you apologize while Jade puts another bandage on one of the cuts on your face. "There's nothing to worry about, but you should be more careful.” He gives his signature smile. “I know, I know but what about the glasses? Azul will be really mad.” You worry before Jade puts another bandage on.

“He won’t be too mad. I’ll try to talk to him." Jade reassures you before putting on the final band aid on your forehead (where most of the cuts were) and before giving you a pat on the head. “Is there anywhere you can be taken care of?" "No, but thank you for helping me!” You smile, with a little pink colour on your cheeks.

𝐹𝓁𝑜𝓎𝒹 𝐿𝑒𝑒𝒸𝒽

Just picks you up and walks you out of the mostro lounge. Why? Well, because you're always making a mess wherever you go, it’s fun to watch and all, but Azul is going to get mad, and he does want to hear feet stomp like he’s in a tantrum again, so out you go, but in a nice way.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Hi Floy-“ you stop midway for Floyd to grab you and put you over his shoulder. "Sorry, shrimpy, you can’t be here. You make too many messes." Floyd sighs as if he’s sad. "Um, Floyd, if I’m not allowed anymore, I could just leave myself without you carrying me.” You smile awkwardly, trying to get him to let go of you.

"No, I'm going to take my own life." "Why" and “just because” you just let go on with the act, since pushing him more will just make him throw you into the water fountain. Not that he hasn’t done that already, though.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonder x reader #twst x reader #twst azul #twst azul x reader #azul x reader #jade x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd x reader #floyd leech x reader

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bellewintersroe · 1 month

Note

Band of Brothers hc request where nurse!reader can’t sleep because of all the injuries piling up/feeling guilty about not doing more?

Thank you for the request anon! <3 mentions of grief, wounds, reader is overworked and ur man takes care of you, mainly fluff.

Easy Company x Nurse!Reader Headcanons

Eugene Roe:

I can imagine Gene’s on duty and he see’s you again, still working late into the night, despite him knowing you were on shift before 7am.

The long days were brutal, Eugene knew that. The urge to help out in anyway possible and feel guilt for resting was something he combatted heavily, especially throughout Bastogne.

But nobody can work effectively when they’re running off four hours sleep.

You and Eugene are close, you’re not in a relationship but there’s feelings there that probably go unspoken until the end of the war. So he feels comfortable enough to approach you.

When you accidentally knock into a tray of surgical and medical items and your breathing deeply, hands running over your forehead - he knows you’re too overworked.

“Y/n.” He steps closer. “Get off duty and go to bed.” Gene would borderline sass.

“I’m fine, Gene.” You’d shake him off, snapping from the irritability of exhaustion.

Gene would cover your hand before you had chance to tidy the tray of equipment you’d just messed up. Finally, you’d look at him now.

“Seriously, you ain’t gonna be anymore help running off no sleep.”

You’d feel a little guilty, knowing your tiredness was potentially messing things up, but you couldn’t give up.

“I can’t sleep, Gene, I feel too bad that I’ve got a warm bed and half these men are sleeping on the floor.” You’d finally admit.

“You gotta try, hm?” Ugh his voice would be so low gentle, he’s so careful not to alarm or engage anybody else in the conversation, and the way he’s holding your hand is distracting.

Anyway, he’s too convincing and soon he’s walking you back with a hand in yours, a little saddened by how clearly overworked you are.

“If anything happens you’ll come get me, right?” You’d worry and Gene would offer you a small smile. “Nothin’s gonna happen.”

But anyway he practically forces you to go to bed and by no surprise you’re passed out within minutes of hitting the pillow.

Gene probably comes back to check up on you a few hours later and he’s soo relieved that you’re fast asleep 🥹.

Ron Speirs:

This mf does not mess around, especially when it comes to you.

You and Ron are already in a relationship by the time you’re at Germany, you’re an amazing comfort to one another and Ron’s already thinking about popping the question by the time they get somewhere nicer.

Anyway, when you’re working tirelessly to take care of the poor victims of the camp, you don’t get back until early hours of the morning, eyes circled with dark bags, legs barely functioning.

The next morning Ron see’s you up early asf, so he asks around to see what time you were back last night. When you don’t return from the infirmary until super late the next day, he’s kinda annoyed.

Not annoyed at you really, he just worries for you.

“What time did you get back last night?” He calls you into his office and for a minute you’re actually intimidated by him, skskskksksle.

You’d attempt to lie that it wasn’t that bad but Speirs would just nod with a knowing expression on his face.

“You’re off duty tomorrow.” He’d simply say and your heart would plummet.

“Ron, no!” You’d immediately plead, the guilt building up.

“I can’t have an exhausted nurse running around, that’s no help to anybody.”

“Then do it for me, personally. I can’t sleep knowing all those people are still in there.”

Ron would inhale, feeling a little worried knowing why you’re feeling that way. He’d secretly inform you that you’re moving out tomorrow anyway, speaking so quietly.

Also secretly brings you up to his private room, the fact you have a night off together is overwhelmingly nice and if you can’t sleep Ron’s doing anything possible to help you.

Talking would be the first thing, you’d discuss everything. He’d 100% be cuddly asf after not being able to relax around you for a while, he’d offer you a massage and then if that didn’t work he’s tiring you out even more using other methods… do with that as you please.

Joe Liebgott:

I can deffo imagine him being a little wise ass about it at first. The two of you are close friends, wanting to be something more, and the way Joe expresses it is through teasing you.

Like you’re sitting on the edge of the nurses foxhole, just staring into blank space.

“Jesus, are ya even alive?” Waves in front of your face, half expecting you to crack a smile like you always do.

You’d probably mutter something back to him, snapping and blinking back down to your gloved hands. You’re just waiting for another cry out for help.

“God, you are cranky when you’re tired, huh?!” He watches you stand up with a sigh, glancing around the area to go check up on everyone.

“Where ya going?” He’s a little disappointed and confused, he saw you patrolling around only moments prior.

Anyway when you think of some excuse he’s pulling you back down into the foxhole, climbing in with you.

Kinda confronts you about how you haven’t been sleeping and practically wraps two of the spare blankets around you.

“Stay warm, okay? Talk to me, y/n/n, why can’t ya sleep?” He knows why you can’t sleep, but he’s so caring, even when he doesn’t mean to, Joe naturally falls into the role of sometimes nurturing other people. The perks of having younger siblings, huh?

When you’d explain that there’s too many wounded men back in town to even know where to start, and that you feel too guilty to sleep when all the others need checking up on out here he’s tutting and wrapping an arm around you.

“C’mere. How ya gonna treat anybody when you’re running off no sleep? You’ll get all jumpy and pass out- that’s the last we need, isn’t it, doll?”

“Yeah…”

“Try get some sleep, huh? I’ll stay, as long as nobody finds me here.” Technically being in a foxhole together wasn’t allowed, but the mutual comfort you gained from one another was unexplainable. Plus, Joe didn’t want you creeping up and sneaking away when you had to rest.

When you are asleep and he has to go, he presses the most gentle kiss to your temple, hesitantly climbing back out and telling all the men nearby to shut the hell up.

Bill Guarnere:

“Now when I heard about a lady out here refusin’ to get some shut eye, I didn’t realise it wa’ you.” Bill would smooth a hand up your back as you’d sigh, melting into his touch as he climbed onto the single bunk with you.

“They had to kick you outta’ the infirmary?” Bill doesn’t know if he’s impressed or concerned by your determination out here. Ever since landing you’ve been overwhelmingly busy, he’s glad to see you in bed. He’s not glad to see you awake, however.

“Pretty much.” You’d mutter, turning around to wrap an arm over his lap as he rested with his back against the headboard.

Bill would let you sink completely into his hold, hoping if anything the comfort of having one another would let you sleep.

Bill knows exactly why you can’t sleep, he knows you better than anybody, the guilt, the desperation to make sure everybody is okay. It doesn’t really need to be spoken about.

“Try get some sleep, yeah? I’ll stay as long as I can until those others get back, ok?”

Shifty Powers:

When he rolls over to you in the middle of the night and see’s you awake again he’s reaching over for you instantly.

“What’ya thinkin’ about, hm?” He’d mutter, gazing over your frustrated complexion.

“I should be down there.”

“Where?”

“At the infirmary.”

Now in Germany, it was more civilian injuries you were treating, especially when a building collapses and you’re absolutely swamped with causalities. After hours upon hours of being run off your feet you’re sent off duty, but your brain won’t shut off.

“Last I checked they had it under control.” Shifty would mutter, running a thumb over your creased brow until you relaxed. “If ya running around any longer you ain’t gonna be able to tomorrow.”

Ugh he’d be so soft and reassuring, there’s not a chance you’re leaving the bed however- he makes sure of that.

Dick Winters:

“Y/n, where are you going?” Dick has one eye open in his foxhole when he see’s you creeping past, arms huddled around your chest and scarf wrapped around your head.

Dammit, you thought he’d be asleep.

“Uh, just going to help out, Di- sir.” Although you had both been seeing one another, nothing had occurred out at war so it was extremely professional to maintain professionalism with one another.

“You’ve been there all day.” He’d sit up straighter, both your teeth chattering practically back to one another.

“I-I can’t sleep, sir. There’s so much to do.”

“If you don’t sleep you’ll be no help at all.” He’d remind, a very nice way of saying ‘get the hell back into your foxhole’.

“I know but. I can’t sleep. I feel too guilty.”

“Well we need a nurse out on these lines. Anybody needs you I’ll come get you, alright?” Dick is so understanding and makes you feel less guilty & more important at the same time. He’s so emotionally intelligent.

He walks you back to your foxhole, with a gentle squeeze of your hand he leaves you with a reminder that he’s still there.

He sure as hell isn’t waking you up however.

Babe Heffron:

“Hey get back into bed, would ya?” Babe would be on patrol and see you sneaking back to the aid station, walking alone through Haguenau.

He’d catch you red handed, sneaking over through the concealment of the darkness.

“And what’a’ya doin out here alone, huh?” He wouldn’t be happy, he practically had to force you to go to bed initially, and now you were sneaking out a mere 2 hours later.

“They need my help, Babe.”

“Did they tell ya that personally?” He gets kinda sassy ok, he’s a little annoyed cos he only wants the best for you, but the second he see’s you starting to get upset or blubbering he softens.

“Aw no, c’mere, I didn’t mean to upset ya!” Fuck patrolling, he’s pulling you aside and giving you a cuddle.

When you tell him what’s up he’s reminding you of every single accomplishment, big or small you’ve completed- and just how helpful you are and how everybody loves& appreciates you.

I think Babe is accidentally good with his words in certain situations, even if he’s a little flustered and worried for you, it’s his kindness and reassurance that has you eventually knocked out in bed again.

#band of brothers headcannons #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers #eugene roe x reader smut #ron speirs headcannons #ron speirs x reader #liebgott x reader #joe liebgott x reader #bill guarnere x reader #shifty powers x reader #dick winters x reader #babe heffron x reader

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notjustjavierpena · 10 months

Text

The Making of Ellie - Part III

A/N: Y’all are literally flooding my inbox about these two, so here’s a little wholesome piece whilst I write more smut.

Summary: Your gender reveal is interrupted by pregnancy nausea.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: Completely safe for all ages, but beware of talk about vomit, pregnancy, tooth-rotting fluff, joel is so soft and emotional here, joel just loves taking care of his pregnant s/o.

Word count: 1.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051/chapters/124280383

Reveal

It was supposed to be a nice night. Tommy had come over for dinner, Sarah had her boyfriend come over too, and for dessert, you were having cake that Sarah had carefully instructed Tommy in making for a very low-key reveal of the baby’s sex. He’d gotten food coloring to make both pink and blue sponge cake, and Sarah had happily told you and Joel about how she’d stood with her back to him in his kitchen as he whipped up the cake batter. Obviously, not without also ranting about gender stereotypes.

But not even at your third bite of dinner, you had excused yourself from the table and run out to the bathroom. Joel found you with your head in the toilet, arms braced against the seat with tears in your eyes.

“It was supposed to be a nice night,” you’d cried as he stroked your hair. The guilt in your voice had made his chest hurt, tightening and pinching as your stomach continued rejecting its contents.

Joel loves to take care of you when you are pregnant. This does, however, not mean that he takes pleasure in seeing your body fight against you as you are growing his kid, betraying you by making you throw up your dinner and causing you to cry in apology. He wishes he could take that exhaustion and pain away from you, put the strain on himself so that he doesn’t have to see the downturn of your mouth when your bottom lip starts trembling. He’d suffer through anything for you to keep you smiling.

Joel finds you an hour later in your bedroom, lying on your side with a blanket all the way up to your nose. Your hair isn’t sticking to your forehead anymore, and your normal color seems to have returned to your face but God, you look tired beyond words.

When he closes the door behind himself, you stir awake and turn onto your back. Your eyes are barely open, fatigue at its highest from being pregnant and denied the energy of food due to said pregnancy. You don’t even seem to notice that he places a plate and a glass on the nightstand.

“Hey,” he says softly. He sits down on the edge of the bed and turns his body towards yours, “How ya feelin’?”

“I’ve been better, but I can come back downstairs soon,” you say with a groggy smile. He gives you a moment to wake up a bit more, not at all in a hurry because he has sent Tommy home and Sarah is in her bedroom with her boyfriend, which he tries not to think about too much.

“No need, I sent Tommy out the door,” he replies, reaching out for you to rub a gentle hand over the blanket along your hip and waist. He can feel you’ve taken off your skirt despite it just being a piece of fabric with an elastic band around your waist, wearing only underwear and the loose-fitting tee from earlier.

“God, can’t even join my own dinner party,” you groan, pulling the blanket up over your face to hide your shame.

Joel yanks it down again, “‘S not your fault. Kid’s just a troublemaker like their momma.”

“So it is my fault?” You raise a brow at him.

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes whilst you snicker. It’s contagious, and only he talks again when he has stopped laughing himself, “Can you sit up f’me?”

You sit up carefully, but your nausea has died down enough to make you stay upright. You scoot back to sit against the headboard, “What is it? Oh no, did I miss the cake?”

“No, no. Ain’t gotta worry about that. ‘Course we didn’t start without you,” he tuts. Even in your woken state, you’ve been too busy staring at him to notice the snack and drink that he has brought you. Joel doesn’t complain. He takes the plate in hand and holds it up between the two of you, “Brought ya somethin’, sweetheart, but I can eat it if you don’t feel like it. There’s plain water too.”

You look down at the tiny cupcake on the way too big of a plate for it. There’s slight confusion on your face, “What’s this?”

“Came prepared in case of an emergency. Told Tommy to make an extra for just the two of us if this happened,” he smiles a little shyly. He has always taken care of the people he loved, but not quite like this before.

There are tears in your eyes, a sudden sob escaping from your mouth, “Seriously? Fuck, Miller. I—“

“I know, baby,” he soothes. He doesn’t put the plate down to comfort you, but instead bumps his forehead against yours gently.

“Wanna take a bite?” He asks.

You take the plate from his hand but then shake your head, “No, I don’t wanna possibly ruin this. You do it.”

Joel can feel something catch in his chest. He sits up straight. He usually never feels nervous, pushes the feeling down and away whenever he’s presented with it, but he looks down at the cupcake with a racing heartbeat. He takes it, pulls the parchment paper down, and bites it all the way through from top to bottom.

The taste is too much, too sugary and he doesn’t understand how you enjoy these so much. He chews quietly. Then he screws his eyes shut, turning the half-eaten cupcake towards you so he doesn’t have to look himself, doing it in a dramatic fashion to hide that he is scared beyond belief. It’s better for you to rip the bandage off.

You gasp loudly, then, “We’re having a girl?”

Joel wants to collapse into you. His heart rate spikes, “We are?”

Sure enough; the inside of the cake is bright pink and the look on your face is gorgeous and excited. He is suddenly the one to down the glass of water he has brought for you.

Joel isn’t sure when it starts, but he feels tears welling up in his eyes and running down his cheeks until they drip down from his chin and onto his shirt. It’s overwhelming. It feels embarrassing too. He has been here before with Sarah’s mother, but experiencing it with you makes it feel brand new. He sits on the edge of the bed with the empty glass in his lap.

“Joel,” you fuss, quickly putting down the plate. You cup his face and kiss his frosting-stained lips, “Don’t cry, yeah? And don’t get a heart attack. It’ll be highly impractical for me at this point.”

“Shut up,” he repeats like earlier, sniffing. You pull him into your chest, resting his head on your shoulder. He looks up at you, “‘m not squishin’ you, right?”

“No, definitely not,” you hold him close, kissing his hair repeatedly, “You are the cutest.”

“Do you think she’ll like me?” He asks after a tiny grumble. He’ll let the word cute slide for now.

“Ellie?” You say the name that you’ve already settled on. Joel likes it, “She already loves you. You calm her every time you speak. Like a baby whisperer.”

Joel chuckles quietly. There’s a pause.

“And me? You think she’ll like me?” You add.

Joel cannot see the irony in thinking that it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever been asked. He doesn’t hesitate, tuts softly, “‘Course. You’re her momma.”

@elissaaa @queerponcho @casa-boiardi @gracieispunk @hiddenbabynyc @hopelessromantic727 @livingdeadmaria @its-nebuleuse @milly-louise @cool-iguana @pawnshopbluess222 @joeldjarin @queenbrownie18 @scarletsloveletter @ladyburberry @swiftsgirlfriend @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sunnywithachanceofjavi @strang3lov3 @hellishjoel @littlevenicebitch69

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#pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller imagine #joel the last of us #joel tlou #my writing #dilf!joel #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal

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lace-coffin · 4 months

Note

(hii!! I’m so sorry if your requests are closed and I just requested… idk I saw they were closed and then they opened so I’m a little slow, I’m sorry 🥲)

But if they are open, I was wondering like, gn!Reader or preferably male reader x Asa Emory?

But but— cowboy Asa?? Like Arthur Morgan coded Asa Emory x The Sherif Y/N who’s desperately trying to capture him, like hunting him down and stuff. (Pretty much bounty Hunter thingy eee)

But, instead of Y/J capturing Asa, Asa Captures them instead and like teases them and degrades them while edging?? I’m sorry I’m just horny 😔😔

Wanted! Asa Emory x Sheriff bounty hunter!Gn! Reader (nsfw)

requests are closed! (For now)

Warnings for ass play (u eat his ass lol), degradation/humiliation, power dynamics

This is literally such a fun idea I’m so excited! Ngl I had to look up some stuff to do with Arthur Morgan bc I’ve only played red dead 1 (yes my horse was named horsey, thank u 😌) also i adore degradation so this is super up my alley!

Bounty hunting wasn’t easy, often loosing multiple companions in the process, chasing dead leads and bumping heads with other hunters out for the prize money. It was high risk high reward. But that’s why you did what you did, and you were damn good at it. Or so you thought. Asa Emory had shaken your perception of yourself, he was the only criminal you couldn’t seem to get a firm grip on, you’d come close before but he always managed to fluster you and weasel his way out of it.

Asa was an interesting specimen, seemingly killing when it suited him and for any reason he can justify, most people killed over land, revenge, highway robberies, the usual. He seemed to have his own motives for killing. There wasn’t any specific pattern to the people he’d taken, all of different ages and backgrounds, it was what he did with them that caused his bounty to be raised multiple times.

Sick contorted amalgamations lined the walls of Asa’s new home, the last one he’d been driven out of after you’d caught wind of what he’d been doing with the bodies, once human figures now twisted into a perverse approximation of insects and wild animals. This should disgust you, make you sick to your stomach and make you throw in the towel on the case, but he’s just so odd but charming. On multiple occasions you’d had him corned, right where you wanted him. You wanted to see him sweat. Every time it ended in you being the one pinned suddenly, lost for breath and hot in the face.

You weren’t sure if you were even in it for the money anymore or if you just needed one last taste of him.

You shouldn’t be surprised it had come to this again, spending weeks tracking him and whatever band of criminals he was taking advantage of this time only to end up backed against a cold brick back alley wall, gun to your head.

“Pleasure to see you again cricket! Are we here for another rendezvous?” Asa chuckles smugly, tapping the muzzle of the gun against your head.

“Very funny, you know why I’m here” you deadpanned, trying not to let the fear coursing through your veins show on your face, you wouldn’t admit the fear was also tainted with excitement.

“I think we both know why your here, you came running back to me like a desperate mutt with their tail between their legs because you hate me, but you can’t stand not being mine, ain’t that right, doll?”

You sputter in shock but quickly try pull a neutral expression back on. “In your fucking dreams, the only place I want scum like you is behind bars so I can get my money and call it a day.” You attempt to say it with a bite but it comes out a little pathetic, voice unsure and wavering, it seems your mind and desires aren’t cooperating.

“So if I tell you to get on your knees and get to work right now, you wouldn’t?”

You scoff and avert your eyes, face reddening in betrayal. You’re supposed to be handing him in and leaving him to rot whilst you count your bounty, but here you are practically drooling over the idea of shoving his cock down your throat.

Asa grips the side of your head and pulls it harshly to meet his gaze, pressing the gun further into your temple for emphasis. “I’m talking to you, slut. Answer me.”

You don’t grace him with an answer, slowly dropping to your knees on the dusty ground of the back alley, there’s no point denying it anymore when your prize is right in front of you. You’ve needed this since the last time you’d watched him walk free.

You unbuckle his belt and zip with a giggle, taking him into your hands and pumping slowly. “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve needed this” you bite your lip.

“Can fucking see you’ve been gagging for it, walking around all high and mighty when we both know you’ve been needing to get fucked like the whore you are” Asa replies, cupping your face and guiding it to his crotch. You can almost see something affectionate in the way he’s looking at you, but that’s something you can unpack later.

Asa groans as you work your way down his cock, sinking as far as you can without triggering your gag reflex. Placing his hands on the back of your head, Asa speaks up again. “There we go, all the way down, good fucking toy”

You hum happily around his arousal at the praise, the vibration of it going straight to Asa’s dick. You let him manhandle you around for a while, pushing and pulling back into your throat, loving the way your desperate eyes water. The man above you pops you off his cock and starts to completely remove his trousers. You give him a questioning look.

“Just trust me doll, a mutt like you will enjoy this”

You’re almost in shock as he moves you behind him and spreads his ass cheeks. You watch in surprise that quickly turns into a deep warm feeling in your abdomen. Fuck, this is filthy, it’s depraved, you want it so bad. You dive in without any guidance, flat of your tongue licking fat stripes up his exposed hole. The wounded noise Asa makes only confirms this is definitely worth it.

You work him over, pressing the muscle around the edge and adding more pressure into the centre until your tongue finally slips in. You both moan in unison.

“Fuck that’s it, I knew a pathetic thing like you would be into this, you’re happy just as long as you’re getting used, ain’t that right?” Asa grits out as he pushes his hips back into your mouth.

Honestly you probably didn’t even hear that, too consumed with your task of making the man above you feel good, it felt depraved and dirty in all the right ways.

You vaguely register that Asa has began to tug on his cock whilst you eat him out, the wet noises mixing in a filthy way that makes you squeeze your legs together. you can tell he’s close from the way his hole flutters and tightens around your tongue.

Suddenly Asa grips you by the hair, causing you to wail in pain, and guides you to his front, pushing you bank onto your knees to face his cock.

“This is how this is going to go, I’m gonna jerk my cock over your slutty stupid little face and you’re going to sit there and look pretty whilst I cover it in my cum.”

You moan and nod eagerly, watching the way his precum beads at the tip, greedily wishing it was your mouth getting him off and not his hand.

With a final grunt and curse under his breath Asa finishes, streaks of warm cum splashing against your cheek and your hair. You look and feel used, it’s perfect. He tucks himself back into his pants and trousers and pets your face condescendingly.

“Well ain’t you a pretty picture?, sheriff”

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #asa emory #asa emory x reader #the collection #writing #my writing

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weaselle · 3 months

Text

actually after adding this story to another post i got so mad i'm making it a separate post

when i was a kid in a musical production of Peter Pan I got a largish role which was awesome, but i was already self conscious about my voice and during rehearsals for one of the songs the director came up onto the stage squinting like he had a mouth full of lemon juice and stalked up and down in front of us until finally he zeroed in on me and had us all stop singing and then had just me alone sing a couple lines and nodded and said "yeah, you don't sing anymore, just mouth the words silently" and then told the kids on either side of me to sing a little louder to cover it...

and no amount of knowing logically that he was wrong for doing that has helped me overcome my fear of singing in front of people after that

and there have been some other times people (looking at you, mother) have said things to similar effect

the real hell of it is, i'm like... i have a lot of songs in me. i'm constantly writing original songs that i'm too afraid to sing for anyone

here are a few. they each have a specific melody.. I wish you could hear them

i don't feel like complainin' 'bout my life today and i ain't got a lot to brag about so i'm just usin' this music to keep movin' and i don't mind if i'm a part of your show so look at life all over and it can be rough if gettin' is your goal you won't get enough but i got me and i'm free an' warm spinnin' and grinnin' in the eye of the storm

i don't need to be winnin' while i'm gamin' and i don't feel like a losin' man no winnin' or losin' i guess that leaves playin' and i don't mind if i'm a part of your band

they say this race of rats is crazy it's dog eat dog they need a sheep to be a workhorse and go whole hog well i'm no genius most of the time but at least i can be nobody's fool but mine

at least i can be! nobody's fool but mine

---------------------------------------

I don’t care … I don’t care if this minute is our last you can bet I’ll be living it before I let it past

(repeat)

Plan in command like a band with a marching tune, dooming our duo when you go embarking soon, damn I’m just glad that we had this hot interlude, hoping we’ll pause and not stop ‘cause I’m into you! checking the phone when alone for the text – that gives me this feeling I’m reeling I’m blessed – the sex is appealing for real but the rest of the sum of your parts makes my heart beat its chest

I don’t care … I don’t care if this minute is our last you can bet I’ll be loving it before I let it past

(repeat)

a decade ago we met lost and were friends christened our roads and then crossed them again we played and we dated like it ain’t a thing but lately our hook-up is more than a fling the two of us truly unduly effected - direction of goals that we hold gonna wreck it but check it I’m with it I’m livin’ it reckless to be where you’re breathin’ is leavin’ me breathless

I don’t care … I don’t care if this minute is our last you can bet I’ll be loving you before I let it past

------------------------------------------

I went to bed lonely, found waking I’d only held dreams of you… In Dreamland I dwelt, but those feelings I felt still seem so true… I dreamt you still wanted me, that’s what’s still haunting me deep in my heart… though awake I believe in the many good reasons we’re keeping apart…

I cry diamonds! I weep songs of may never be I cry gemstones! each one a good memory each action taken, all of the fine bad and more I’d never trade them, these tears are my dragon’s hoard

I’m happy to see you, I knew that would be true our love never could end… I would swear an oath, this is best for us both and you’re still my good friend… but some nights my soul just doesn’t feel whole when I’m not by your side… so I add to and hold, all the jewels and the gold that I’ve already cried…

I cry diamonds! I weep songs of may never be I cry gemstones! each one a good memory each action taken, all of the fine bad and more I’d never trade them, these tears are my dragon’s hoard

So I’ll seek out adventure, eventually enter a time. when. I… leave this treasure heap, spread my wings and leap into the sky… I’ve dreams I believe in but please know that even when I. reach. them… I’ll visit these memories, loving and tenderly holding each gem..

I cry diamonds! I weep songs of may never be I cry gemstones! each one a good memory each action taken, all of the fine bad and more I’d never trade them…

these tears are my dragon’s hoard

---------------------------------------

i wanna go off… i’ll go on the run- i wanna go big… go off like a gun they tell me come on just do as i’m told stop dreaming of hot find joy in this cold but i want the heat (oh yes) i want to feel warm! don’t want to repeat (this mess) don’t want to conform

still i pay my taxes i jump through the hoops it never relaxes: life lived in a loop

I want to go off… go off like a gun! a bright shooting star- as hot as the sun

---------------------------

my best my best is what i give i never rest i never live but i don’t die i try to grip this liquid life inside my fist is this a test what must i learn if this is hell oh well i’ll burn and use my body as a meal is this what godly beings feel?

so come the worst i’ll curse and taaaake it if i don’t try this life is waaaaasted I’ll struggle puzzled cold and naaaaaaked and hold to hope that i will maaaake it and if i don’t then may my bones out in the garden over-grown be turned into some little home for those as lost and as alone

the stars all wheel over head it’s always heal or be dead i must i know let go of dread and trust my questing steps instead

the day will play and i will daaaance it i’ll set my bet down and i’ll chaaaaance it with danger hurtful flirt romaaaaaaantic make my own wish, insist i graaaaant it

my best my best is what i give i never rest but do i live still i don’t die i try to grip this liquid life inside my fist…

--------------------------------------

i said i'm a tramp hobo and bum an' one mean son an' that's okay i said i'm a tramp i know but lovin' keeps on comin' my-y way

some times i'm just a drifter who's down on his luck but a smile from the Lady tips my own lips up!

down and out i ain't got nothin' but my laugh and my tough an' my-y name down and out my main skill bluffin' it's enough in thi-is game

my rhymes are just a whistle i'm hummin' along but with some help from the Lady i can sing this song!

-----------------------------

maybe i'll find a singer or some musicians to partner up with

#song #songs #song master list #poem #poetry #all songs are poems i guess

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factual-fantasy · 1 year

Text

24 moar asks :}

..That’s.. That’s a good point.

I’ve noticed recently that I’ve been trying very hard to get all these projects done, but I just cant seem to get past this writers/artist block.. Ingo and Emmet part 3, my FNAF AU, the Rosalina comic.. all of it has just felt really draining. I think its because I’m turning these projects into work, instead of a fun hobby.

I actually was working on the Petey Piranha comic last night, but I just couldn’t get past the sketching stage. So I took a break to draw what ever I wanted and.. I had a lot of fun.

I think I’ve overwhelmed myself thinking I have to do all these projects and get them done quickly for.. what ever reason. And its made art really draining.

I think I’m gonna take all of my projects (aside from my FNAF AU) and just. Put them on the shelf for now. I’ll draw them if I ever feel like it.

Thanks for the little push anon.

When ever I want. And it’ll be what ever I want :}

@aemered

If you see that someone has reposted my art and you want to do something about it, first of all thank you very much that’s really kind of you-

SECOND OFF, report it if you can. If you cant then leave a comment saying its stolen and link back to my tumblr or just mention my name. Thanks again! Its really cool that you’d want to do that for me- 💕😭💕

I had planned that he could eat a fire flower and spit out a fire ball, but I later took away that ability. Yoshi ain’t got no fire powers :(

They do exist, and Bowser does care about them.. but he doesn't show it as much as he does in canon. He’s a lot more stern and ruler like. A lot less touchy feely you know?

The idea is that the 1-UP mushroom has fully left Mario’s body. So any effects or pain he experiences all lies in his trauma related to the incident.

Now, if Luigi were to die and be revived by a 1-UP? It would be the same. If the experience was traumatic and he suffered a horrible injury, he would probably deal with phantom pains too..

@tempestrio

For most of them I just referenced clothing that relates to the attraction/style they have in the game.

For Chica I looked up kids rock star costumes and took reference of what I thought looked good. For Bonnie I looked up old vintage bowling ally shirts and referenced the one that looked closest to his canon shirt. For Foxy I referenced pirate coats and costumes. For Monty I looked up old golfing outfits and picked out aspects that I liked and mixed it with punk/rock and roll. For Roxanne I referenced punk rock I think..? And old racing fire suits.

For Freddy though I mostly made it up.. but I looked at a bunch of different artists that made redesigns for Freddy and tried to capture the vibe of the ones I liked. Mostly the collar on his coat was something a lot of those artists drew-

For Gregory I just gave him a new outfit based on the story. When he went back to the Pizzaplex his clothes were dirty and worn.. so Freddy went and got him new clothes from one of the gift shops. So I went to google and referenced the sweaters and clothes you find throughout the game and gave him stuff that looked similar. Hope this helped! :}

There is! But its not that deep don’t worry-

When I was designing my sona, I wanted something on my hands. At the time my hands were covered in Band-Aids due to cat scratched and dry/cracked skin. So I thought hey! I could have bandaged hands! So I added them.

They also work if you call them my “artist hands” lol-

No, thank YOU for engaging with my content and sending me lovely messages! :D

@thedorkyidiot

Oh he’s in the AU, he’s probably one of the smaller gorilla types that just kind’a vibes and does old man stuff. He probably has to eat the sweeter fruits though because his jaw isn’t so strong anymore. Much to his dismay..

She didn’t cause any problems per say, the Toads didn’t even know she existed. Although she does create these shooting stars every time she comes to the planet.. but that doesn’t bother the Toads either, In fact they celebrate them. So the toads have no issue with Rosalina.

Also she apologized to Mario and Luigi for “disturbing” them because they heard her crying and they went to investigate. :(

And thank you! I’m glad you like my interpretations! :D

Well you’re in luck! My FNAF AU is the only project I plan to not drop and keep working on! Hahaha!... haaahhhh

(Also thank you very much that was very sweet 😭)

@shannonallaround

I don’t actually have a specific name that I tag my AU under.. but if you were to search “mario” in my blog search you’ll find just about every Mario related post I’ve ever made. AU and not AU.

Not yet.. 👀

The reason why Mario experiences phantom pain is because his first death was very traumatic for him. So whether or not he experiences phantom pains with his future deaths all depends on how he died, and how it effected him mentally.

Same goes for Luigi. If he dies a horribly painful/traumatic death.. he’ll likely experience phantom pains too..

@color-craz

There was a comic planned for how they met him actually.

They got lost in the woods and stumbled upon King Boos mansion. Like an idiot Mario goes in and Luigi follows. They both ended up getting tormented and pranked by the Boos. They were separated at one point but then met back up on the second floor. Mario sees a fire flower in an old flower pot and grabs it.

As soon as he becomes fire Mario.. the entire mansion goes completely silent..

Then, all the windows and doors slowly shut. Some of the lights come on and Mario and Luigi follow them. They follow the lights down the hall, down the stairs, through the main room and wind up led to the front door..

The front door is wide open. Mario and Luigi walk out.. only for the door to slam shut behind them. Locking them out.

Mario harnessing a fire flower was so bizarre, so impossible! That King Boo knew he was outmatched against him. So King Boo just silently let them out of the mansion without a fuss.

@mysteriousl0ser

I’m not sure how they would react to the Koopalings, but I imagine they wouldn't hurt them. It doesn’t take a genius to tell that the Koopalings are just kids..

As for their behaviors.. I think its close to the canon interpretations, except for Ludwig and JR. I had planned that Ludwig was going to be much bigger and more stern like his pa. Because he is the heir to the throne.. but then google told me that Roy is the oldest so there goes that plan-

For JR though his plans stick. JR is supposed to be smaller and younger. More like a toddler then a kid. He’s the youngest and the one Bowser is most protective of.

@gravitystar96

Thank you! I’m glad you like my AU! :D

As for if anyone will find Gregory.. I haven’t planned if anyone will or who it will be. Although it will likely be Chica or Monty.

Since Chica is so close to Freddy, she is bound to find out about this entire child that he has kept secret-

As for Monty.. I liked the idea of Gregory hiding for some reason.. and he calls for Freddy through his fazwatch in a panic. After a few minutes he hears big thumping plasticky foot steps approaching. He comes out of hiding thinking its Freddy..

But it was Monty.

I made them brothers because I could :}

Although I’m questioning it now. Maybe they could just be friends. They could just be two idiots who found each other and decided to reek havoc together.

Oooor they could be brothers., Hmm.. I’ll have to give it some more thought XD

If Bowser had gone straight for Luigi, first of all he would have to land a fatal blow twice. Because the power of the Ice Flower would Protect Luigi from one big hit. That’s actually why Mario died in one shot. Because the Fire Flower had just run our of power.

But anyway- after loosing the ice flower and getting hit? Luigi would just die.. and stay dead. Only Mario had consumed a 1-UP mushroom at that point..

I imagined them as these strange monsters that live in the woods. They don’t work for Bowser, or Peach, they just do their own thing. I also imagined them to deal with dark magic and rituals and stuff.

Wanna hear how Mario and Luigi first met one?

The plan was that the bros and Yoshi were exploring when they found a shy guy with its leg caught in a tree root. Mario carefully approached to try and help.. but the closer he got. The longer and more deformed the shy guy became.

Yoshi ended up snatching them both up and running away. Mario mysteriously had a fever that lasted for a few days after that..

Me waiting for my platonic kiss on the forehead be like:

My favorite character? Oooo that’s a good question. There’s a lot to choose from.. but one of my favorites is Hal Monitor. Always love it when he’s on screen XD

I actually like stupid Mario sometimes, he’s pretty funny XD

So far my favorite arc is the lawsuit arc. Mostly because I’m not caught up on the other arcs. The little nuggets of Mario angst/wholesomeness we got in that arc was delicious XD

@spencer-the-fox-87

If the Monkeys were to eat the red beets they would gain more muscle mass overtime. But its not a matter of them not being able to eat them, they just don’t like them.

The blue fruits are very sweet and juicy, and the beets are dry and bitter. The kongs that like bitter flavors eat the beets and grow to be huge. and overtime they develop a dislike for sweet tastes. And vice versa.

#my response #mario #fnaf security breach

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littlefreya · 1 year

Note

This is SY, when you get your own baby doggo, who he says he doesn't like because it's not a real dog, like Aika. But he still begrudgingly watches the little dog, while you're at work.

But after taking the pup out to the bathroom, he notices the little thing would make a good target for larger pray, and he can't have the dog getting snatched up, (Because, if Mama ain't happy that means Sy can't play with Mama's kitty.) So, he puts the mini flak jacket on her, so she'll be safe, and it even makes her look a bit cooler.

Sy even takes Akia and Little Doggo to a Veteran group event, where the guys from his squad playfully rib the Captain for having the little pup tucked under one arm, like some sort of "Growling Hand Grenade." But Syverson doesn't care anymore, he's grown attached to her.

(lol that developed into more than I intended it too.)

(You completely destroyed me with the video and the headcanon and then they even play CCR which is one of my fave bands 🥹)

Yes!

I can totally see dog!dad Sy cuddling with a tiny doggo and protecting him with everything he has.

He makes fun of him when you get him. He says he ain’t a real dog like Aika but one look into those puppy eyes and the bond has already been established. The little doggo follows after him everywhere and Sy always snuggles him and gives him extra treats when no one is looking.

He sleep in his arms and when Sy and you have an argument the little doggo takes Sy’s side by barking at you with rebuke.

#henry cavill #captain syverson #ask freya #Viking raider #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson headcanon #henry cavill x reader

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aheathen-conceivably · 1 year

Text

🎶 Stick a jazz band on my hearse wagon, raise hell as I stroll along 🎶

Antoine hadn’t told Zelda about the bribe. He saw no reason to worry her with such unpleasantness, and he knew that if he looked after the accounting himself he could find a way to make it work.

So a few hours before the club was set to open he went downstairs and laid out their entire liquor supply. He was counting the bottles, trying to see how much he could squeeze the profit on each one, when two uniformed police officers walked through the doors. Antoine looked down at all the liquor bottles, shining brightly like illicit jewels in the electric lights.

Shit. Smile, Antoine. Stay calm.

The younger officer saddled up to a barstool, clearly comfortable in a saloon, “I take it you must be Antoine, chap. I’m Officer Murphy. This here is my partner Officer Brauner. You see, we know your friend Giorgio and his dealings down at the office. It’s nice having connections like that, ain’t it?”

Antoine stayed quiet, understanding a trap when it was laid before him.

“The silent type, huh?” the officer said flashing a grin, “Well no matter. We both know you don’t have too much of a say in this anyway. You see, what you’ve got going on here is mighty illegal...”

The door to the apartment opened and the beaded curtain rattled. The officers turned in their chairs and locked eyes with Zelda, who’s gaze narrowed as soon as she saw them sitting there.

The officer smiled triumphantly, “Well well well…I see you’ve got yourself a little live-in doll too, don’t you, chap? Tsk tsk, now you’re really racking up the violations, huh? Go back upstairs, little doll, this has nothing to do with you.”

Zelda took a step toward the officers, the beads of her dress ringing loudly in the quiet club, “This has everything to do with me. You’re in my home, now please leave.”

The officer let out a laugh, one filled more with malice than merriment, “A little doll with a mouth on her, huh? You flappers just don’t know your place anymore. Stay then, little flapper, this doesn’t need to be difficult. Think of us as your protection. The same way we kept that pesky assault charge out of your hair, we’ll keep all this liquor and these more…personal violations under wraps, huh? It’ll just be a little cut of the profits, a little payment for us as your private security.”

The officer had posed it as a question, but Antoine wasn’t stupid enough to think that it was. Ever since he was a boy his mother had cops on her payroll. It was the way it was done here, the reason why even in the throes of prohibition, liquor could still be found on every block. He was amazed that they had left him alone all these years, only now he was on their radar, and like sharks in the water, they could smell his blood.

“Fine. You can come back on Friday. Now get the hell out of my club and leave my family alone.”

The officers stood to leave, satisfied that they had gotten what they came for. Officer Murphy stopped on his way to the door, tipping his cap with one final grin, “No need to be so aggressive, sir. I’m sure it’ll be a pleasure doing business with you.”

#1926 #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #sims 4 historical #ts4 historical #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #the darlingtons #1920s #antoine duplanchier #zelda darlington

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 years

Text

My Superstar

First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU

Liked by y/ninsta, champagnepapi, urbanwyatt, druski2funny, cozane, saweetie, and 3,459,182 others

jackharlow: LOOK AT WHAT MY BABY GOT ME !!!! y/ninsta come here so I can kiss you 😘

y/ninsta: jackharlow I deserve more than that for what I went through to get this 🙄

urbanwyatt: NO, NO, AND NO. You have to go on in TEN MINUTES

jackharlow: urbanwyatt I'm not understanding your point? y/ninsta come here babyyyy 😏

y/ninsta: jackharlow don't tear my bodysuit this time. Strong ass hands 🙄

jackharlow: y/ninsta my bad but it was in the way 🤭

jackharlow: y/ninsta and besides these strong ass hands can do a lot more 😏

neelamthadhani: SPARE US THE DETAILS

druski2funny: SPILL IT!

lilnasx: druski2funny why is you so damn nosey?

druski2funny: lilnasx we all wanna so so stop playin

y/ninsta: jackharlow you owe me a bodysuit sir

jackharlow: y/ninsta only thing I owe you is this dick 🥰

claybornharlow: WILL YOU TWO CALM DOWN?!

y/ninsta: claybornharlow calm down for what? don’t let me have to spill about your extracurricular activities last night Clayborn

jackharlow: y/ninsta wait, what? claybornharlow what is she talking about?

claybornharlow: y/ninsta keep your mouth shut

jackharlow: look I already can’t handle when y/ninsta and urbanwyatt are together and now I have to worry about claybornharlow too?

y/ninsta: jackharlow she was pretty and I was the ultimate wing woman!

claybornharlow: Y/N!!!!!

y/ninsta: claybornharlow payback is a bitch little brother. I love you tho 😘

jackharlow: y/ninsta will you come on?!

y/ninsta: jackharlow don’t rush me! so damn impatient

claybornharlow: y/ninsta no you don’t, you chose violence

y/ninsta: claybornharlow do I need to remind you of how many times you have ratted us out?

claybornharlow: y/ninsta LIES

saweetie: nah claybornharlow you do be spilling all the tea. anymore we should know about?

claybornharlow: saweetie I do not but.... I proposed to y/n first and you know we wanted different things in life so her next best option was her least favorite Harlow child

normani: claybornharlow your brother is about to kick your ass when he sees that lmao 😂

claybornharlow: normani he’s just mad because it’s true

saweetie: claybornharlow AYE YO!!

jackharlow: claybornharlow WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? CLAYYYYYY!

theestallion: now claybornharlow knows as well as anybody that he will murder someone when it comes to his wife

claybornharlow: theestallion I’m the little brother so I’m safe

theestallion: claybornharlow ain’t nobody safe from an ass kicking from jackharlow when it comes to y/ninsta

claybornharlow: jackharlow she loves me more than she loves you and I told her not to settle for your ass but I guess she fell in love along the way but her heart will always belong to ME

y/ninsta: claybornharlow why you spilling all our secrets?!?! he wasn’t supposed to find out this way!

claybornharlow: y/ninsta babe, I had to rip the band aid off sometime. it’s better this way.

jackharlow: y/ninsta claybornharlow imma kill both of yall 😡

urbanwyatt: jackharlow wait lemme get my snacks so I can watch

softtcurse: urbanwyatt only snack you need to be having is me

y/ninsta: softtcurse 😐

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt who the fuck is softtcurse?!?!

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta umm.....

y/ninsta: URBAN HENRY

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta my girlfriend?

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt YOUR WHAT?!?

jackharlow: urbanwyatt YOU DIDN’T TELL HER?!

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt jackharlow HOLD UP. Jackman... baby... love of my life who comes second to Clay... YOU KNEW?

jackharlow: y/ninsta I THOUGHT HE TOLD YOU. I’VE MET HER. And imma kick your ass for that last part

privategarden: 👀👀👀

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt I’ll deal with you in a minute now back to my boo claybornharlow

claybornharlow: 🥰🥰🥰🥰

claybornharlow: jackharlow don’t worry I’ll pay for therapy for you

jackharlow: claybornharlow only thing you’re going to be paying is for a hospital bill when I get done with you

y/ninsta: jackharlow add you and Urban since yall keeping secrets

2forwoyne: y/ninsta wait he didn’t tell you?

y/ninsta: 2forwoyne YOU KNEW TOO?! urbanwyatt I’m about to shank you

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta I love you?

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt SAVE IT AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, softtcurse, champagnepapi, theestallion, saweetie, and 6,293,826 others

y/ninsta: Been that bitch ain’t no discussion 😘

saweetie: FACE CARD NEVER DECLINES AND MY BEST FRIEND IS THAT BITCH!

y/ninsta: saweetie I love you boop!

jackharlow: my little superstar! hurry up and finish your set so you can get this work 😏

y/ninsta: jackharlow shit say less daddy

urbanwyatt: will you two ever let up?

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt go away

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta stop being mad at me!

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt you lied to me and jackharlow was only forgiven because he ate me out for an hour from the back

dualipa: y/ninsta I want next

jackharlow: dualipa I will kick your ass into the next century if you keep playing with me

dualipa: jackharlow I’m coming to the next show so you better be able to back up all that shit you were talking

jackharlow: dualipa SAY FUCKING LESS!

2forwoyne: y/ninsta Urban didn’t want to tell you because he knows how you are

y/ninsta: 2forwoyne excuse me?!? And how exactly am I?

2forwoyne: y/ninsta I vote your husband should tell you

jackharlow: 2forwoyne now why am I getting dragged back in it when I just got forgiven?

shloob_: this is gonna be good. I’m watching this unfold from the car to make a quick getaway

jackharlow: y/ninsta ummm baby....

y/ninsta: jackharlow yes?

jackharlow: y/ninsta Urban didn’t want to tell you because uh being basically the mom of PG we uh..... ummm you can be a little over protective and your approval is important to him soooo I think he was just waiting for the right time and he didn’t want you to fight her

y/ninsta: jackharlow WHY WOULD I FIGHT HER IF I DON’T EVEN KNOW THE GIRL?!

quiiso: y/ninsta you not knowing her doesn’t mean a damn thing!

y/ninsta:the fact that all yall kept this from me makes me feel some type of way

softtcurse: y/ninsta I told them to tell you

y/ninsta: softtcurse how long has this been a thing?

softtcurse: y/ninsta 2 months 🥰

y/ninsta: PG I AM KILLING EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU

jackharlow: y/ninsta except me right?!

y/ninsta: jackharlow especially you because like? you’re his best friend along with me and yall didn’t tell me for two months

jackandy/naremyparents: uh oh urbanwyatt I think you really hurt her feelings 😕

urbanwyatt: 😥

Liked by jackharlow, claybornharlow, saweetie, urbanwyatt, dualipa, maggieharlow, theestallion, normani, and 5,294,578 others

y/ninsta: my baby soooooo fine, do I spy a chair? 😏

jackharlow: stopppp stink 🙈

jackharlow: and I stay ready for you my baby

jackandy/naremyparents: have you and urbanwyatt made up yet?

y/ninsta: jackandy/naremyparents who’s that?

saweetie: y/ninsta bitchhhhh! stop playing!

y/ninsta: saweetie nah because that was some foul shit they all pulled

quiiso: y/ninsta we love you and I have a milkshake as a peace offering

y/ninsta: quiiso what flavor?

quiiso: y/ninsta cookies and cream, your favorite

y/ninsta: quiiso bring me some mcdonald’s fries with that and I might consider forgiving you

jackandy/naremyparents: what did shloob buy you queen?

y/ninsta: jackandy/naremyparents he went shopping with me and helped me carry my bags knowing every single person in PG hates going

2forwoyne: shloob scared as hell of y/n

shloob_: I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again YALL ARE FUCKING STUPID IF YOU AREN’T

neelamthadhani: urbanwyatt wait... even I knew before y/ninsta? you brought Yasmin to rehearsals that one day

urbanwyatt: NEELAM! YOU ARE NOT HELPING

softtcurse: y/ninsta I can’t wait to meet you!

y/ninsta: softtcurse you might not have a boyfriend when that time comes because I might kill him

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta!!! come onnnnn and let me explain!

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt I’m busy for the rest of 2022, check back in 2027 when jackharlow has purchased our cottage. bye now.

urbanwyatt: Y/N!!!!!

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

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#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow x you #jack harlow instagram au #instagram au #bf! urban wyatt #urban wyatt #urban wyatt x reader #urban wyatt fic #urban wyatt fanfic #urban wyatt instagram au

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carebeartherese · 7 months

Text

My live reactions to Loki season two ep 5:

-WOOOO HERE WE GO

-running through the recap

-Im actually scared for this episode srsly

-oooo the almost silent intro

-ALIVE???

-he is angelic fr

-where is everyone???

-did they go back to their timelines??

-Im loving these continued camera shots

-pie room??

-TIME SLIPPING

-oh shit

-:0 double Loki

-hello?

-time slipping is just an excuse for Loki to flip his hair like the hoe he is /pos

-time loop???

-WHAT THE FUCK

-WHY IS EVERYTHING COMING APART

-SHIT

-oop there’s the theme

-prison??

-CASEY?????

-WHAT THE HELL

-oh hes escapin

-where are they i wonder

-a boat prison??

-no not again dude Loki can’t handle this

-ALCATRAZ????

-his name ain’t Frank lmfao

-oh it’s the BOAT PLACE

-dude why are we back in the tva

-:0 SHIT NEW YORK 2012

-Aw b15 is such a great doctor I love her

-MOBIUS WHAT ARE YIU DOING

-living his dream

-who tf is don

-also his son??? No thank you

-LOKI GO SEE YOUR MAN

-this is so unserious

-LOKI IS SO CUTE ABOUT MOBIUS

-Mobius is adorable

-SINGLE DAD???

-FUCK YEA

-ooo 1994

-OB!!!!

-hes so silly

-awww he just wants to sell his books

-hes a writer <333

-in his bunker???

-ITS JUST LIKE HIS LAB

-dude ob will believe anything that happens to him

-the sons of who??

-ob is so adorable with his little “hey”

-dammit

-none of that made sense OB

-cannot control the time slipping

-oooo true

-LOKI = TEMPAD

-to save his friends

-oh yea shit kang is coming aint he

-control it Loki!!!!

-nope

-you look like you’re trying to take a shit

-there is no controlling time

-OB WE DONT SHOCK PEOPLE

-OR WHATEVER THAT WAS

-stop psychoanalizing

-go to the pie room

-GET THE BAND BACK TOGETHER

-oh that’s actually kind of smart

-ob is adorable and I love him and his tism

-oh fuck there he goes

-TO MOBIUS AGAIN!!

-he sucks at taking the trash out

-yea Kevin

-these kids are literally adorable

-don’t burn down the house pls

-“HELLO”

-these guys are so awkward

-just kiss srsly

-WAIT THEY ARE SO CUTE

-HES SUCH A SALESMAN

-wife long gone????

-cause of the gay

-is he flirting??

-are jet skis flirting????

-mobius really thinks lokis crazy

-OB HI

-none of this makes sense

-awww the way he grabbed Mobius

-dude theyre so gay

-they need to just kiss already fr

-yea your kids will be fine mobius I swear

-hes just a suburb dad

-this is a little heartbreaking but also gay tbh

-IKR IT IS A COOL NAME

-B15!!!! Come with!!!!

-CASEY FUCK YEA

-ESCAPE

-where’s sylvie?

-mobius looks shook

-and Casey trusts no one the little thief

-mobius/don is he flirting with Casey/Frank

-I love sylvie but she always gets angry and fucks shit up

-please leave her out of this one

-WAIT WHAT

-HOW DOES SHE KNOW YOU

-wait till it back

-fuck get that time slipping under control

-sylvie with her lesbian fit and her mullet

-ok but Loki loves mobius and doesn’t wanna loose him

-uncaring queen

-I mean she wants to live

-damnnnnn

-WAIT CALL HIM OUT

-WHAT DOES HE WANT

-FALSE

-HE WANTS MOBIUS SRSLY

-oh come on Marvel be more specific

-of course he doesn’t wanna be alone

-don’t make this romantic again pls

-NO WE ARENT

-his story is with mobius tho!!!

-Casey is such a weird ass hardened criminal

-mobius stop trying to sell shit to people

-Loki you are so babygirl

-NO WHAT ABOUT THE GANG

-I don’t understand anything anymore

-is sylvie flirting with record shop guy??????

-THE VELVET UNDERGROUND

-HOLY SHIT

-literally what is happening rn

-whos this guy in the back

-oh he disappeared????

-why’s shit disappearing????

-NOOOO

-THE TIMELINES DECAYING

-OH GOD NO!!!

-NOT HOT RECORD SHOP GUY

-and she’s gone

-so is the timeline

-Loki is so sad and lonely

-MOBIUS KISS HIM PLS

-HE NEEDS TLC

-NOT TRUE

-a timeline just died for some reason

-Loki was just waiting for this opportunity

-CASEY DAMMIT SRSLY

-OH FUCK NO

-WAIT EVERYONE COME BACK

-NO MOBIUS PLEASE

-OH GOD NOT PLEASE NOT KNTO THE DARK

-THIS VERY BAD DREAM

-oh shit Loki use them timeslipping powers

-GO BACK IN TIME

-YOU CAN DO THIS BBG

-ITS ABOUT YOUR FRIENDS

-oh come on dont give me that fuckin cliffhanger

#Loki #loki season 2 #loki spoilers #loki episode 5 #mobius m mobius #loki laufeyson #sylvie laufeydottir #hunter b15 #casey loki #ouroboros loki

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whatthebodygraspsnot · 2 years

Text

words: 1.5k rating: m additional tags: canon compliant, mentions of mexico, mentions of trevor (but not by name), late s10, mickey's pov, spoiler alert: ian wants mickey to top him for the first time and he feels weird asking, they don't fuck yet - it's the convo and a lil lead-up to separate spice

summary: one night while sitting on the couch, ian's got a proposition for his husband. and it's got nothing to do with the year-round holiday tree lip and tammi are doing.

✨ just a lil sumn sumn to get the writing juices flowing ✨

“So I’ve been thinking…”

The wave of dread that surges through Mickey escapes him in a long, drawn out sigh.

“Christ, Ian - thought we vetoed this shit like an hour ago.” (They did.) “Just ‘cause Lip’s doin’ the whole ‘christmas tree for every holiday’ schtick that doesn’t mean we gotta.”

The look Ian sends him from the other side of the couch is irritated, but has cooled off considerably from when they discussed this topic at length this afternoon.

He hasn’t reached The Chin status.

Yet.

“You can relax, alright? I’m not talking about that.”

The mindless little thumb stroke he’s been working over Mickey’s ankle bone as they watch TV, however, falls still. Now it’s just a big, heavy hand where Mickey’s socked feet rest in his lap.

Suspicious.

Alright.

“Whatchya thinkin’ ‘bout then,” Mickey tries.

He waits, for a good few beats of the Bob’s Burgers intro.

When he doesn’t get an answer he wiggles his foot, bringing Ian’s hand along for the ride. “...‘ay…”

Ian’s eyebrows jump lightly as he’s pulled out of his thoughts, then mellow out while he just barely glances at Mickey and then back toward the TV. “Nothin’...” he says. “Never mind.”

Oh.

Well that’s just not gonna fucking happen, is it?

Mickey grumbles, turning his foot again. But this time it’s to dig his toes annoyingly into Ian’s belly. “...‘nothing’, my ass. Spill it.”

His foot is already being dragged away by the ankle and out of belly range. But the tiny crease in Ian’s brow is obvious.

Oh yeah. It’s definitely something. “Ain’t ‘nothing’, so you might as well tell me before I break out the big guns.”

Mickey’s not super sure what ‘the big guns’ are in this situation. But his husband seems to know exactly what ‘the big guns’ are over there, judging by the tightness of his jaw. “Fucking annoying…”

“Yup,” Mickey confirms with a serious, unsmiling nod. Even holds his hand up to flash his wedding band as a little reminder that his dumb ass recently married him, so who’s the sucker here? “Now talk.”

Another moment passes.

Up in the air.

It could really go either way.

And then…

“You know Mexico…?”

The knee-jerk reaction to patch over the sting with a joke will probably go away with time, but it still kicks up hard whenever that stretch of time gets brought up. “Heard of it, yeah.”

There’s a reason Ian’s bringing it up, though. There always is.

He says it carefully, his hand heavy where it’s still draped over Mickey. “‘Member how I said we could switch shit up…? …if we ever wanted to…?”

Mickey blinks.

He does remember that. Just as much as he remembers how they did not do that. Even a little bit.

It’s not that they were actively avoiding it. Some things just slip through the cracks when you’re barreling toward the border to escape the law like goddamn Queer Bonnie and Clyde.

And yeah… They’re not running anymore. They’ve got time to do whatever the fuck they want now. That little suggestion just got shoved back into the corner of Mickey’s brain with the rest of the Mexico shit, is all. And Ian hasn’t said shit about it since.

Until now.

Mickey fixes his eyes on the carefully projected pride that puffs out his husband’s chest.

Ahh. He gets it now.

“...you tryna bottom for me, Gallagher?”

Ian doesn’t look at him. “Why the hell not?”

And whoa - “Easy, tiger. Not fightin’ ya on it.” But Mickey has to chuckle. Can’t help the tease that slips into his tone just as easily as the lick of interest that slips up his spine.

In fact, he should probably shut the fuck up for a second or two while it all works through his system so he doesn’t spook him. Because one look at Ian bristling over there keeps perspective real clear.

Ian’s been working up to this. Feels like he’s gotta puff up like a damn bullfrog to save face - to keep Mickey from giving him shit. Like they didn’t just commit their entire stupid lives to each other. Like Mickey wouldn’t do fucking anything to make this man understand how gone he is for him.

“...‘ay…” Another nudge of his foot into Ian’s tummy. But it’s softer this time. Urging. “Say more-a that shit. Already into it.”

Ian chances a look over at him. Cautious eyes in flickering light. “Really?”

Too cute for his own good. Even as a bullfrog. “Really.”

Ian’s thumb falls back into soft, mindless circles over Mickey’s ankle bone again. More soothing for himself, probably, as his brain works over the words before they trickle from his mouth. “Done it before. …few times.”

It’s a test of Mickey’s patience. A test of his self control to not launch into his ‘flipping a quarter to see who has to bottom is a red fuckin’ flag’ routine, because that’s not what this is. And he and Ian have had their own fair share of red flags throughout the years. Mickey’s just petty when it comes to the thought of other men, so fight him.

But Ian doesn’t need that from him right now.

He settles on, “Uh huh.” Sidesteps and comes back in at a safe distance. “And that was…?”

A leading question. Ian chews on it for a second with narrowed, searching eyes, before his head tilts to the side with his answer. “It was fine…”

Underwhelmed.

Purposefully unspecific.

Mickey brings his bottom lip in and worries at it to shut himself up.

And it’s absolutely the right thing to do - to give him room. Because before he knows it, Ian is shifting a little to look at him, his gaze no longer lacking purpose as it locks onto him in the dark.

“Mick…I want it to be you,” he says, not looking away. “I just know it’ll be good if it’s you.”

It sends another swoop of interest blossoming inside Mickey. Arousal. Intrigue. Fucking pride.

And Ian’s still talking. “You used to top all the time, so you know what the fuck you’re doing-...” The circles over Mickey’s ankle build in pressure. “But I also know we’ve never-... Like… Even as kids. That’s not how we do it-”

“Who’re you tryna convince here? You know I’m already sold.”

Ian swallows up whatever else he has at the ready. Whatever’s been building building building in his brain as this moment neared.

He looks back over at him.

Mickey grins. “Yeah. It’s fuckin’ happening, so I’m not sure who all that convincin’ is for.”

A pent up breath escapes Ian’s nose, his blink heavy with obvious relief. “You’ll do it?”

And seriously, it’s like he’s asking if Mickey will strangle a man to death for him. (Which he’ll also do, off the record. But Ian already knows that.)

“You know, not everything’s gotta be a big goddamn negotiation, huh?” The couch creaks as Mickey pulls his feet back into himself. “Don’t gotta break out the fuckin’ quarter anymore, sweetcheeks.”

Whoops. And after all that self control, too.

Ian rolls his eyes, both hands falling into his empty lap. “Never shoulda told you that.”

But his mounting attitude is quickly snuffed out by Mickey invading his space, his grin lethal as he closes in, “Mm-mm…” and then seals the deal with a hungry, instigating kiss. “...‘course I’ll fuckin’ do it. Thought about it before, to tell ya the truth…”

Ian decompresses against him, falling into the rhythm of his breathing as he asks it. “...really…?”

“Mhm…” Mickey grins, “...fuckin’ hot…” He keeps it close. Keeps it steamy. Keeps both their mouths moving, just in different ways. “Prob’ly make the most fuckable faces with my dick in ya - huh, lover…”

The nickname is supposed to make Ian laugh, but what he gets instead is a huffy, bitten off groan. The makings of a whine.

And damn, that’s so much fucking better, ain’t it? This is gonna be fun.

Mickey��s grin widens at the greedy hips pressing up into him, visions of what’s to come nice and tasty as they unravel for him in his head. “You want it right now…?” He could give it to him right now. They could absolutely do this right fucking now.

But before he can get too ahead of himself, he’s being swept into a different but gloriously familiar direction, Ian’s arms wrapping around him and lugging them both up until he’s carrying him toward the back of the apartment.

“Way too fuckin’ horny to deal with that right now,” he admits, and it’s breathless. Kinda like how Mickey’s feeling up here as Ian hurries them into the bedroom with very clear purpose.

And you know what, Mickey is A-O-Fucking-Kay with that shit. “Next time,” he promises through a kiss.

“Next time,” Ian agrees, and then dumps Mickey onto the bed and crawls on after him.

#gallavich #ray writes #i do wanna write the actually smut very very badly - i just need to work up to it so i can do it justice >:3 #shameless

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