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phoward89 · 1 month

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Happy (late) 420! I tried to get this out yesterday, but that didn't happen. Anyways, here's some Dealer!Coryo x Reader in honor of 420.

Weed, drugs, guns, cussing, Coriolanus Snow being Coriolanus Snow, p in v, slight degradation?, um that's bout it

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1:

“Your brother's drunk again?” Coryo, your weed dealer and fuck buddy, asked as he flung the door to his section 8 apartment open as soon as he saw you thru the peephole.

He knew what was wrong with you just by the sullen look on your face. Anytime you had that look on your face it was because your brother was either drunk and fighting with you or your ex (who Coryo nearly beat to death after the last time he cheated on you- which if you ask the dealer shouldn't have happened cause only a fucking idiot would stick their cock in a skeezy cunt when they've got your perfect, tight cunt to fuck on the regular) did something (like cheat) to upset you.

After getting beat within an inch of his life, your ex skipped town. Rumor has it that he went to California. So, Coriolanus knows that there's only one reason you're on his doorstep looking like an anxious mess: your brother, Rein.

“Yep.” You popped your tongue.

“Come in.” Coriolanus ordered, moving aside to make room for you to enter his shithole. As you walked by him and into the apartment that smells heavily of cigarettes, weed, incense, and rose scented glade plug-ins, your favorite drug dealer announced with a lopsided smirk, “I was just ‘bout to roll a joint.”, while shutting and bolting the door.

“It's been a while since I smoked. I could use a few hits to calm down.” You admitted, making a beeline to the lumpy couch and in extension the glass coffee table nestled right in front of it.

A glass coffee table with chipped corners that was cluttered so much that the glass could barely be seen. It was a cluttered mess of magazines, rolling papers, plastic sandwich baggies, large bags of weed, a scale, a few empty beer bottles, an empty chip bag, a red solo cup, zippo, and a cheap ashtray.

Sometimes you wonder about Coryo, who could be a dead ringer for Eminem. Hell, his looks got him the nickname of Paneminem. You know, cause he's the Slim Shady of your small bumfuck Colorado town of Panem.

A town that both you and Coriolanus Snow, known to a very small select few as Coryo, hate with a passion.

But, anyways, sometimes you wonder about the dealer with the platinum buzzcut (which you were shocked to find out was his natural hair color) that lives alone. He doesn't have a lot of friends and the only family he's got is a cousin, Tigris, that's a stripper at Pluribus’ club. But they had some kind of falling out after he got a dishonorable discharge from the army and barely talk anymore.

And you only know about Tigris and his brief stint in the military cause you curiously asked him about his dog tags, chewing on the corner of them during a half-high afterglow while cuddling with him.

“What dumb shit did Rein do this time, baby girl?” The hardened drug dealer asked, following you over to the sofa. A sofa that has a board under it to level and prop up the saggy seat cushions.

“He’s pissed that I got laid off and can't find another job.” You told Coryo as the two of you sat down on the couch, making it dip under your combined weight.

“So, does that mean you're gonna start helping your favorite dealer sling shit for cash?” Coriolanus slightly chuckled, slipping his hand underneath the hem of his oversized white T-shirt and pulling his gun out of the waistband of his baggy jeans; placing it down on the coffee table.

You've seen the black Glock so many times, gosh it must be at least 50 by now, since you started buying weed and hooking up with Coryo. Him handling the weapon around you doesn't even phase you anymore. It should. It really should, especially since you weren't raised around guns or violence- but apparently the more time you spend around Snow (Coryo's surname and one of his street names- the other being Snowball) the more you're being corrupted by him.

Unknown to you, Coryo doesn't want you to become corrupted by him. He thinks you're a really sweet girl that had some shit luck of being abandoned by your mom and raised hovering above the poverty line by your much older half-brother and his girlfriend. Despite your crappy conditions, you’re as sweet as honey. Or at least to Coriolanus you are.

For some reason, the hardened drug dealer that's a couple of years older than you wants to keep you safe from any and all dangers in the world. Hell, Snow's not supposed to have feelings for you, a girl that occasionally buys weed from him; comes over to his place to vent about her life, but he does.

And that's not good because feelings are dangerous in his world. The drug underworld. The side of town, hell life, that decent people don't see.

Coryo's got people that would love to put a bullet in him; the cops also want to lock him up for at least half his life too. Having you around him so much, getting wrapped up in shit isn't good at all. It's not good for you or for him. It'll only end up bad and in heartbreak.

And Snow can't have that. Oh, he has to protect you from his world. The world of drugs and all other illicit activities that transpire in the criminal underworld. You're just too sweet to have as a permanent fixture in his life, which is why he doesn't hang with you unless you're buying weed from him. He won't actively seek you out, despite the fact that you always bring a smile to face and warm his cold, black, dead, frostbitten heart.

“Coryo, you're my only dealer.” You dryly remind him, watching as he perches on the edge of his couch; leaning forward to grab the items he needs from his chipped coffee table to roll the joint with. “And no, I'm not gonna help you deal.”

“Only dealer, favorite dealer: same thing from how I look at it.” Coriolanus retorts while his long fingers nimbly work to fill and roll a joint for the two of you to share. “It was a joke, baby. I wasn't serious.” Your dealer dryly told you before giving out a lecture of, “My line of work’s dangerous, babe. I'd never send you out into that shit just to make a buck.” Waggling a long weed scented finger in your face, he added in, “And I would've fucked some goddamn sense into you if you’d agreed to my fake offer.”

You’re not stupid, you know that Coryo’s not just a weed dealer, but that he sells some hard shit and it makes his job- hell his life- dangerous. But you don't care. You accept him as he is. You're not trying to fix him; you're fine with him the way he is. You're also fine with being his customer/sorta friends with benefits.

You know that Coryo has a lockbox full of various pills and coke that he deals. The box is shoved in the side table, that looks like a weird ass octagon, caddy cornered between his sofa and a heavily duct taped easy chair. You saw it once when you were over, crying about being cheated on by your ex and needing some weed (and maybe some big dick) pronto to make you feel better and calm you down.

Coryo had a customer he needed to meet and sell some powder to, so he prepared the crap right in front of you. After cutting the white powder finely with a credit card (that you're sure he stole from somebody) and portioning it up in a baggie, he made you swear to never touch the hard shit. He even said that he'd shoot whoever dares to give you the shit right between the eyes if he ever found out that you dabbled in the hard shit.

And then he sent you on your way with a few joints and a promise that he'd stop by to check up on you; see if you need anymore post getting cheated on weed to help feel better with. He kept good on that promise, he stopped by and took you out for a ride. A ride that ended with you desperately riding his cock in the backseat of his car- which was parked in some alleyway in a seedy part of town.

“Calm down, Coryo. God, don’t pop a vein over there.” You sarcastically tell the platinum blonde while he finishes rolling the joint. Watching him pick up his zippo off the table, you assure him.“You don't need to worry about me being in danger from the big bag drug dealers; I'll only make my money legally.”

“Y/N…” Snow mumbled warningly, slipping the joint between his lush lips and lighting up. Taking his first hit, he sighs, “The more you hang ‘round here, baby girl, the more you might be putting your sweet lil ass in danger.”

“I’m a big girl, Snowball. I can take care of myself, plus I trust you and know that you'd never hurt me.” You said, watching him take his second hit.

Passing the joint over to you, he dead ass says, “I got enemies; if they think we're a thing they'll fuck you up to get to me.” Shaking his head, he leans his elbows on his knees (of course he was manspreading- he always does when sitting on the sofa). “Cops would haul you in; jam you up just to try and catch my ass.”

Your brows furrow at his words. At their implications.

“So, what, you don't want me coming ‘round anymore?” You asked, brushing your fingertips against his rough, calloused ones as you took the joint from him. “Want me to find somebody new to buy weed from?” You took your first hit, coughing slightly. “Maybe I'll drive a couple hours to Denver and buy from a regulated dealer: from the man.” You threatened, taking your second hit and passing the joint to the broad shouldered man next to you.

“You're not driving down there for weed. You hear me?” Coryo sternly ordered before taking a deep hit off the joint.

“Then don't say you don't want me around, Coryo.” You countered, watching your dealer sexily blow a large billowing cloud of smoke from his perfect O shaped mouth.

“I didn't say that, babe.” Coryo snapped, his voice a bit hoarse from smoking weed all day (or at least you think he's been smoking all day). “I don't wanna have a heavy talk while smoking. Let's table this for now, yea?” He told you before taking a second, even longer hit from the joint perfectly pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“Yea, my life's stressful enough.” You agreed, taking the offered joint from Coriolanus as soon as he exhaled a lungful of smoke.

Coryo didn't say a word, just leaned back into his couch and snaked an arm to rest behind you. He gave you a lazy thin lipped smile as you took your hit. His icy eyes, usually void of emotions, were shinning with fondness as he watched you instead of whatever bullshit was on his tv.

A very nice large flatscreen that somebody gave him for payment. Fuck, the damn thing was worth nearly a grand since it was some top of the line Samsung smart tv. Snow knew it must've fallen out the back of a truck, but he didn't give a shit. Meant he didn't have to use he crappy tablet to watch stuff anymore.

But instead of watching tv, his attention was on you. God, Coriolanus loves watching you smoke. He thinks you're so sexy when you smoke. This cute, lil sweetheart taking in a large burning lungful and letting it waft out of your mouth expertly.

It turned him on.

“It's not polite to stare, Coryo.” You remind the menacing man next to you, your tone a bit teasing, while passing him the joint after finishing your hits.

“I'm not staring, so don't know what your talking about.” He firmly denied, acting like he wasn't just caught ogling your gloss coated lips, while taking the joint.

You're starting to feel a bit hazy from the weed, unlike Coryo you don't smoke around the clock so a few hits mellows you out quickly, and lean your head against his shoulder.

“Your such a fucking lightweight.” The platinum blonde chuckles, shaking his head with a hint of an taunting smirk on his lips.

“Not everyone can smoke and fuck all day, Snowball.”

“I don't smoke and fuck all day. I'll let you know that if I don't sling my shit then I ain't making any bank.” Coryo sneered, sounding a bit insulted by your remark, before taking a quick hit and holding the joint out to you.

Your fingertips brush over his, sending shockwaves through both of your buzzed bodies, as you take his offering. “You know, I'm still having a dry spell.” You reluctantly sigh between taking your two puffs and passing him back the joint.

Coryo's not stupid, he knows why you've been having problems finding somebody to hookup with let alone date. Word on the street is that he's sweet on you. That you’re Snowball's baby. Or at least Plinth and Creed, his only friends that are also dealers, told him that's the word.

Been the word since somebody saw you and him at some house party few weeks back- disappearing into a bathroom together for a good 15 minutes or so (yea, long enough to fuck).

“Maybe I can do something ‘bout it then, yea?”

“Maybe.” You coyly shrugged.

Even tho both you and Coryo knew that as soon as the joint turned into a roach; was snubbed into the ash trash, you'd be making out and undressing each other on his sofa.

“Hmmm…Coryo, that feels so good…” You loudly moan, feeling your cunt twitch and grow wetter, as you ride Coryo's cock.

Coryo's sucking on one of your titties while roughly squeezing the other in his large, calloused hand. His other hand is holding onto your ass like it's the most prized jewel into the entire world.

“God, Coryo, I needed your cock so bad.” You admit to him, your voice nothing more than a pathetic mewl, as your wrap your arms around his neck- one hand pressing into the back of his platinum buzzcut while the other holds the back of his neck- while you leverage yourself to bounce faster on his dick.

His cock, very long and thick with veins that catch every velvety piece of your walls, fills your cunt up perfectly; turns you into a whinny mess. His tip hits against your cervix, causing the coil to begin to tighten inside of your lower body with every move. And the way his cock presses into your g-spot just right- oh fuck he's completely ruined you for men.

Whether you want to admit it or not, you're addicted to Coryo's cock. He's the only man that can fuck you just right. God, you would be all hot and bothered over your dealer.

Your nipple falls from Coryo's mouth with a loud, wet pop. He looks up at you, baby blues smoldering midnight with lust, and slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby. Ride my cock, ride my cock like the lil slut you are.” His hand slides over your chest, leaving one tit and going to kneed the other, as he lands two quick slaps to your ass. “Baby, your cunt feels so tight and good. Ride me, baby, ride me.”

“Fuck…Coryo…think I'm gonna cum.” You breathing tell him, forehead pressing down against his; hair curtains around your faces, as you grind your hips faster against his.

“Yea?” He asks, his voice heavy from lust and hoarse from smoking weed, as he places his hands on either of your hips. “Hold on, baby. I'll make ya cum.” Coryo tilts his chin up, sloppily kissing you, before digging his fingers into the meat of your hips and thrusting fast and hard up into you.

“Fuck!” You scream, feeling your insides literally getting rearranged, as Coriolanus’ cock plunges deep inside of you. Deeper then you’ve ever felt it before (and that's saying something since the man’s cock always leaves an imprint in your lower stomach everytime you fuck) and it's making you see stars.

Your arms are tightly wrapped around Coryo's neck in a vice grip as he pounds up into your cunt at such a strong, punishing pace. He's fucking you so hard and good that you can feel the rubber band inside of you get ready to snap. “Coryo…I'm gonna cum.”

“Cum, baby. Be my good lil slut and cum on my cock.” Coryo orders, his baritone rough and raw, as he presses you against his chest while bucking his hips at lightning speed.

And you do. You cum hard, moaning a string of curses mixed with Coryo's name, before leaning limply against him and panting to catch your breath. Your head's pressed into the crook of his neck and he's now holding holding your back to keep you afloat while chasing his own high. Coryo pistons his cock in and out of you quickly before groaning a couple fucks and your name while shooting his hot load of thick pearly ropes of cum deep into your cunt.

“Damn…” Coryo trailed off, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

Your head's still resting in the crook of his neck as you unwrap one of your arms from around his neck. Running your hand up and down his toned chest, you blurt out, “I'm hungry.”

“Of course, you get the munchies now.” Coryo scoffs, shaking his head. “I got some pizza rolls in the freezer, I'll nuke us some in a lil bit. Okay, babe?” He offered while trying to enjoy his blazed out afterglow moment with you.

Honestly, he just wanted you to cockwarm him for a while because he didn't know when you'd be in that position again.

And Coryo knows that he's going to have to cut you loose eventually. You're a liability in his line of work. Snow, the cold hearted drug dealer that doesn't think twice about popping a cap in somebody's ass, has a soft spot for you. Hell, to be honest he cares for you.

He cares a lot.

And that's dangerous. Feelings are a weakness that he can't afford in his life. The thought of you being used against him makes him sick.

And Coriolanus will never forgive himself if something bad happened to you because of him.

He knows that he'll have to cut you loose soon. Put his combat boot covered foot down; lay down some rules for the two of you to abide by. Something like he'll drop your weed off at your house then leave type of deal.

But right now, for a few minutes, he just wants to bask in your warmth.

And for right now, you're Snowball's baby.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

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icallhimjoey · 1 year

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Midnight kiss with Joseph on New Years

ok babe, so @mybffjoe and i had one of those conversations where we just added onto a fantasy until it quite literally became a full fic and it kind of fit this request, so EVEN THOUGH its not in time for NYE, i hope you enjoy! Wordcount: 2K

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So Unlike Yesterday

part one - part two

"Move in everyone, get in here with me," you called out over the music, held out your arm and saw people move to get their faces into your selfie. You stuck your tongue out, closed your eyes and held the shutter button down to take fifteen pictures in one second.

"Cute!" you called out before you'd even seen the pic.

But it was cute. You in the forefront, pretty, glass of your own weird mixture of alcohol in hand and a gaggle of your girlfriends behind you, all dressed in shimmery sleek outfits.

It was a picture you would absolutely post onto Instagram, but the reason you'd taken it was to send over to your family, your friends - your entire contact list if you were honest. You threw a NYE filter over top, wrote a generic 'happy new year' message underneath and, at 11:40pm, pressed send.

You instantly got replies. Especially your family members were quick to respond.

You also received a pic from a friend who was in the room with you, and it was a pic of you, on your phone. You laughed and gave her the finger. Downed your drink. Threw yourself into the singing that was happening to ABBA's Dancing Queen, until you saw your phone light up again.

Your new boss.

You opened the text and were met by a picture of... people you absolutely didn't know. And they'd absolutely mimicked the picture you'd sent; a guy holding his phone, arm outstretched, tongue out, eyes closed, drink in his other hand. And in the background, other guys, all posed in the same ways your friends had posed, facial expressions and all.

Then three flickering dots.

"Happy new year! Who is this?"

Wrong number.

You'd put your new boss' phone number in manually the day before, for the job you were going to start on Monday, and either your boss was very cool and had great humour, or you'd messed up the number. Probably the latter, as you didn't recognise any of the people in the photo, but you weren't going to risk it.

"did I not just text the coolest boss in the world ever? who will definitely not fire me before I've even started?"

It took a second, and you waited in panic, breath held, palms sweating, which one of your friends noticed.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Wait!" you said, held a finger up as another three flickering dots appeared in your text thread that held a name above it that you hoped so hard didn't match the phone number you had just received a photo from.

Another photo popped up.

The same guy who'd done your pose in the other picture, now just his face up close, nose scrunched up, one eye closed, mouth pulled up into a thin smile.

You sighed, let your shoulders drop, so very relieved. You definitely had just typed in the number wrong and had now texted a random person a photo of you and your friends at a New Years Eve party.

"omg so sorry, wrong number! but cheers!" you replied, and then, turned your phone to let your friend see.

"Shit, that's hilarious!" she said, taking the phone from your hand and showing someone else, zooming in on the pic of the guys, then swiping to have a look at yours.

"Look at this!" your phone got passed around.

You needed another drink, you realised you mouth was dry after that very brief high-stakes scary situation.

"Send back the same pic!" someone suggested when they'd swiped onto the close up selfie of the guy, and before you could even think of doing so, your friend who held your phone exclaimed, "He's typing! He's typing!"

Another pic of the same guy, his phone at a bit of a distance and holding his drink up too close to the camera to have it in focus. He was very clearly drunk. The pic had text attached, "Cheers! What's your poison?"

"Who is he?" someone asked.

"I don't know!" you made a face at your phone as you opened your camera and sent back a pic of your empty glass.

This was fun. You'd had enough to drink to indulge yourself in this weird back and forth for a bit.

Three flickering dots.

"what was in that"

You took a second to look around the room, spotted a friend who still had her glass full and walked over. You held her wrist, got your camera to focus on it and behind it, she ducked her face down into frame and smiled.

Perfect shot. You sent it back, and wrote "apple pie cocktail".

"shit" is all you got in return, and it made you giggle.

You scooped up your empty glass and took it to the kitchen. You really did want another, and the clock was ticking down. It was going to be champagne flutes in a bit, but ten minutes felt too long to be without a drink and having smelled the one your friend was still nursing, you really did fancy another.

Your phone buzzed in your hand before you even got to place your glass down on the kitchen counter.

"looks good, whats in that"

Could you just... Facetime him? Call him and show him? A friend joined you in the kitchen, opened the fridge to fix herself a drink too. "He wants to know what's in an apple pie cocktail," you said, and because she wasn't a mindreader, she started listing all the ingredients.

No, that's not what you meant.

"wait ill show you" you replied in a text and then, because you weren't a total creep, waited half a minute before you Facetimed the person that was listed under your new boss' name in your phone.

He answered immediately.

The room he was in was just as loud as the party you had going, and where you had your camera flipped so he wasn't able to see your face, his face was VERY close to the screen.

"Okay, so," you got straight to business, speaking loudly into your phone to make yourself audible over the music. That's not how technology worked - you could've spoken at a normal volume into the mic and the stranger would've heard you just fine, but you'd been drinking, and this was a weird situation you had found yourself in.

"Glass," you showed your empty glass on the counter.

"Glass!" he repeated after you, and you chuckled. He heard, smiled in return.

"Apple cider." you used your free hand to slide a bottle of Magners into frame.

"Apple cider!"

"Vanilla vodka."

"Vanilla vodka!" he repeated again.

You saw how someone else had joined him, recognised the face as one of the guys who'd imitated one of your friends in the group photo he'd sent. Both their faces were only half in shot, far too close to the phone, very obviously just watching you and not caring about what they looked like to you, what image of themselves they were sending out into the ether.

"What's going on?" the other guy asked.

"She's mixing a drink." you could barely hear them over the music playing at both parties.

"She the one from the photo?"

"Yea, she's hot,"

You pretended you didn't hear that.

"Fireball whisky."

"Fireball whisky!" they repeated in unison now, and made you laugh once more.

"And ice!" you finished, opening the freezer, doing your best to keep it all in frame for them to see as you got an ice tray out.

To actually make the drink, you decided to flip the camera and show yourself. You placed the phone down against the backsplash and showed them how you put the drink together. You'd tapped your own little screen to switch them so you could see what you were doing, to make sure you got it all in frame for them. A friend joined you, bent down to get into frame as she sipped her drink, stared real close at your phone for a second before asking, "Are you live?"

"I'm Facetiming... these, random guys?" you laughed. This was so weird, very random.

"Joe!" he'd heard you.

"I'm Facetiming Joe, making an apple pie - you want one?"

It was all chaotic, you were mixing drinks for you and a friend, talking through it, had people come in and out of the kitchen who started collecting champagne flutes from cabinets because midnight was getting real close now. Joe asked where you were, and you each explained you were at friend's parties, somewhere in London, and you joked, oh my God what if you were at the same one? You saw Joe rush into the kitchen at his party, and you laughed. Or what if you were real close to each other? You were seriously both in London? What a weird coincidence! On Joe's end he was talking to other people too, looking down at his phone, it was mostly the top half of his face and the ceiling that you got to see, but he would laugh, move around a lot and have sips of his drink.

"Ok that's it! Bye!" you said suddenly, finishing the drink, grabbing the phone and bringing your own face more into view.

"Wait!" Joe said before you could hang up on him.

"Taste test!" he requested, and, you weren't lame, so you brought your glass up to your mouth and took a sip as you brought the camera in close.

You could see Joe move in even closer to his phone screen too.

"S'that good?"

You copied him, but moved your phone so close, it was just your mouth showing now.

"Yea it's fucking good."

"Countdown!!" you heard someone yell at Joe's party, and nearly at the same time, you were called into the living room by your friends for the countdown too.

You didn't hang up.

Just took Joe with you as you joined your friends. You saw Joe do the same.

It was all linked arms, or arms draped over each other's shoulders and more people had their phones out, filming, taking pictures and Facetiming the people that hadn't been able to make it. You blended in just fine with Joe. It was just a funny stranger on your phone instead of your mum. Surrounded by your favourite people, buzzed from all the drinks you already had and unable to stop your giddy giggles, this really felt like the best way to ring in the new year.

You started the count down, and you were both shouting numbers into your phones. The friend next to you laughed when she saw what was happening, thought it was so funny too that this random dude was now part of your circle in this moment.

Then, when the clock struck midnight, you both saw how Joe leant in to kiss his phone. You laughed, turned your phone more to show your friend who scrunched up her face, but then reached and pushed your hand that was holding your phone to your face.

You kissed your phone too.

Joe only just managed to catch it as he moved back before you did, and couldn't hold back his own giggles.

"Happy new year!"

Someone handed you a flute of champagne, and you cheersed your glass to your phone before flipping the camera and making your way onto the balcony with everyone else to watch the fireworks.

Joe did the same, except he was out on the street, holding his phone up towards the sky, and in some weird romantic turn of the strangest events that lead up to this moment, you watched fireworks together. Said things like, "Ooh those ones are my favourite," when you saw the specific ones that sparkled after exploding up high in the air, and Joe could've sworn, could have absolutely sworn, just for those specific sparkly fireworks, that you'd both seen the same ones.

You had to be close.

Had to be.

The new year had only just started literal minutes ago, and already, it seemed like the best fucking year yet. Nothing like the year before. So unlike yesterday. Yes, this year was going to be better, Joe thought, as he listened to your marvels through the phone.

Happy fucking new year indeed.

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read part two here!

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nahoney22 · 1 year

Note

TBB Echo with female reader, prompts:

Echo: if you keep looking at me like that, i’m not responsible for what happens next.

Reader: take control of me, i trust you.

I just really need dommy Echo in my life 🤤 Make this so NSFW that I'd get fired for opening it up while at work. 👀 ❤️

3000 Prompt List Celebration

Echo X F!Reader

word count: 1.2k

NSFW

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m not responsible for what happens next.”

“Take control of me, I trust you.”

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit sexual content. Name calling, pet names, sexual tension, praise, dirty talk, swearing, face-fucking, lots of cum, dom!echo, female reader. Not proofread.

authors note: bestie you knew I had to pull this out for you for your birthday yesterday. Happy birthday @burningfieldof-clover ❤️ 🎂

The tension between you and Exho was thick. Thick and dirty.

Ever since you laid eyes on him you wanted to be laid under him and luckily, he wanted that just as much.

The flirting had been going on for weeks now and from the teasing touches to just flat out ‘I want you to fuck ne’ stares, the tension had finally broke.

You’re both in the marauder, alone, and both of you knew that. The fact of even being alone made you exceptionally turned on that you just couldn’t help but be a little bit naughty.

With Tatooine being too hot to handle, you were eternally thankful that Wrecker convinced everyone to get an onboard ice cooler. To which just so happened to contain some nice, refreshing ice popsicles.

So, taking one in your hand you moseyed up towards the cockpit where you knew Echo was and took a seat. For a change, it was him under the control panel instead of Tech and the view was quite nice from your angle.

"What are you up to, handsome?" you purr, unabashedly flirting with him in the absence of others.

He raises his head from beneath the panel, observing you as you leisurely unwrap your chilled treat, a sly smirk gracing his face. "Just doing some maintenance, princess. What you got there?"

You notice his gaze lingering on you, making you gratified that your playful tactic is already taking effect. "Just an ice pop," you nonchalantly shrug, your core tingling at his nickname for you.

"Couldn't have gotten me one?”

"I could have, I should have, but I didn't," you mischievously smirk, then slowly bring the phallic-shaped confection to your lips, hollowing your cheeks as you savour its sweet flavor before pulling away with a satisfying pop.

His chest rises and falls heavily, his mouth watering at the sight of your seemingly innocent action, though he knows all too well the true intentions behind it. Especially as you maintain an unwavering gaze upon him.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m not responsible for what happens next.”

You hum with amusement at his words, crossing your legs as you intertwine your tongue along the melting icy surface, tantalisingly affected by the fire generated by the undeniable tension between you both. "And why would I do that?"

The cord between you both finally snapped and you almost gasp as in a second he is up from the floor of the Marauder and standing right in front of you. “Well then, why don’t you taste something else?”

You watch as his hands trace over his codpiece, your eyes almost bulging out of your head as in a second his gear drops to the ground with a thud. The outline of his cock pressed against his blacks, thick and just ready to be tasted.

Eyes flickering up at him, you instinctively drop from the chair to your knees. Your melting ice pop was carelessly dropped to the floor and bound to make a sticky mess but you didn’t care - you did not want to pass this opportunity up.

He chuckles darkly and teasingly pulls his cock out slowly, letting it ping out of its confinement and starts to strike himself. “I always knew you’d look good with my cock in front of your pretty face.” He cooes, brushing some strands of hair out of your face before cupping your cheek, “Go on, open up.”

Your lips part, eyes fluttering shut as his already oozing cock traces along your lips before he sinks past them. He hisses, holding your face as you slowly swirl your tongue around his tip. “That’s it, that’s my pretty slut.”

Moaning against him, you feel your whole body shudder at the taste of him, your panties getting soaked by how turned on you were at his dominant side.

He’s sighing heavily, embracing the feeling of your hot tongue wrapping around him. Not once does his gaze dwindle from you as you begin to bop your head up and down, groaning and sending vibrations through his body. His spine tingles hot, his hand on your cheek moving to the back of your head where he grasps your hair and pulls you away, a trail of saliva following. “What is it you want?” He asks, eyes filled with lust.

“Take control of me,” you rasp, looking up at him with wanting eyes, “I trust you.”

He grins and forces your mouth back on his cock, slowly rocking his hips and letting his cock slide down your throat. “Let your jaw go slack, I want to fuck your face.”

You do as he commands and your eyes tighten shut as his hips begin to snap back and forth. Eyes watering, you start letting out low throated and wrung out moans. “Gag on my cock,” he hissed, lowering his pace until your throat closes around him, tip hitting right at the back of your throat which of course, as he wished, makes you gag. “That’s it. Good girl. My good cock-sucking princess. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to see you like this?”

You’re gasping, making tiny breathy sounds with your mouth still stuffed to the brim. Body tense, you succumb to his filthy words and cock that you could only love every second of it. You couldn’t reply to him, only accepting his cock that he slid in and out of your mouth, even teasing your swollen lips by trailing his thick length along them before breaching past again.

“Suck me,” Echo demands, hardly recognizing the gravel in his voice. “Don’t stop. Come on, you’re a greedy thing aren’t you?” He pants, tugging on your hair as you begin to suck against him with all you could give. “Think you can be seductive like that and not expect my cock down your throat? Hm? I knew exactly what you were doing.”

Echo starts to feel the burn of his release running hot through his veins, and he doesn’t pull back quick enough as he spurts with you suckling on the head of his cock, catching you off guard. You can’t swallow it down fast enough, but don’t complain as you drool cum and spit, gasping for breath once he pulls out.

He stumbles back, leaning onto the control panel as he watches you remain on your knees, breathing heavily and wiping your mouth. He swallows hard and approaches you again, this time crouching down to your level and gently pinching your chin between his fingers and guides your head up to look at him. “I should’ve warned you,” he sighs, using his scomp to dab away the small tears that leak past your eyes.

“It’s okay,” you pant with a lazy smile, on a complete high yourself, “I always wanted to taste you.”

He smiles at you and ever so gently, unlike before, kisses your lips in such a gentle manor that nobody would think he was face-fucking you just moments ago. “I want to please you now, I want-”

“I want you to still take control of me Echo,” you whisper seductively, thriving as Echo lifts you into his arms and crosses towards the bunks, “I trust you to take care of me.”

Masterlist

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone e @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @imalovernotahater @the-good-shittt @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @fantasyproductions

#bad batch echo #the bad batch echo x reader #tbb echo x reader #tbb #the bad batch #nahoney22 writes #echo x reader #echo x you #bad batch echo x you

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oozedninjas · 1 year

Text

Purple led lights part II

I don't usually do second parts. I hope I made justice to the first piece!

Tag list of part 2 requesters:

@lizardgutzz

@technicallylegendaryflamethower

@muamazon4

@ijustcommittedacrime

Summary: Sweet, sweet Donnie... what do you get when you spy on your crush masturbating and jerk off to her without consent? You get what you fucking deserve.

Warnings: 18+NSFW mdi voyeurism / mean!reader / black mail and threats / dirty talking / jerking off / video typing / psychological violence / denigration kink / Dacryphilia / coaxing / convincing / manipulating / dark content / punishment

If you click to read, you have agreed you have read the warnings and still wanna read this content.

He couldn’t take her face out of his head. The way her eyes popped out, how her jaw dropped and her expression twisted from surprise to horror. The worst part? After the encounter, he didn't have any proper closure. She didn’t speak to him, only mumbled a small “get out” while embracing her body in a vague attempt to hide her nakedness from his eyes.

He fucked up. He fucked up big time.

Donatello rubbed his face furiously, lifting his glasses in the process. He glanced at the clock, it was four in the morning. He and his brothers arrived from patrol about a couple of hours ago and now he was laying on his bed, sleep-deprived, thinking. All he did was think, and think... God, what he’d give to shake the feeling of being a creep out of his body.

****

A ding from your cell phone woke you up. It was too late for it to be from your usual friends or family. You squeezed your eyes a couple of times, trying to adjust them to the screen light before opening the text.

>nerdypoptardlicker: Are you awake?

Delivered, 4:20 am.

>nerdypoptardlicker: I’m sorry about what happened yesterday.

Delivered, 4:20 am.

>nerdypoptardlicker: didn’t text you earlier ‘cause I panicked. Didn't know what to say.

Delivered, 4:21 am.

>nerdypoptardlicker: I can’t begin to explain how embarrassed I am. It was wrong. I don’t know what was going through my head when I did it. I’m profusely sorry.

Delivered, 4:21 am.

Donnie must feel like shit, you thought while moving a little in the comfort of your bed. He could see that you were online, but you didn’t really feel like answering. He messed up, it was only fair to let him hang a little in his guilt before saying you forgave him.

>nerdypoptardlicker: Please answer me.

Delivered, 4:25 am.

You let out a deep sigh and decided to lock your phone before going back to sleep.

****

It had been a week. A week of anxiety and overthinking. A week of not knowing anything from her but somehow he couldn’t stop insisting. How many texts had he sent now? Ten? Twenty, maybe? Donatello wasn’t sure, but he knew that at least you were reading them. You weren’t completely ignoring him which was a good sign, right?

“I don’t think it’s a good sign. I think she’s done with ya," Raph’s crude words hit him hard. Donatello wasn’t someone who voiced his concerns with anyone but master Splinter or maybe Leo, but for a thing like this, he thought that the first two would be disgusted with what he did. But not Raph, he was sure his brother had done worse and kinkier things.

“Then why won’t she say so?” The one in purple pressed and Raphael pursed his lips.

“Maybe she doesn’t wanna. You do know that ghosting is a thing, right?” Donnie rolled his eyes with a hint of annoyance.

“That’s not quite logical. if she was ghosting me she wouldn’t pop online as soon as my texts are delivered, and she wouldn’t read them,” he stated and soon he began to feel sick, both at the thought of the ghosting possibility and the smell of sweat which was filling the training room with every movement his brother did.

On the other hand, Raph started another push up set with a rather dismissive attitude.

“Who says she is reading them? Maybe she’s just leaving you on seen.” Raphael sounded slightly more annoyed by the second. For how long had he been hearing his brother rambling on the matter? It felt like for years.

Donatello’s heart dropped into his stomach before that possibility.

“Listen Don, I hate to sound like Leo here, but maybe she just needs time to get over what you did. It's either that or she really is ghosting you. You’ll know with time, but I think you should stop texting her for now. Send one last message and call it done.”

“And what should I send as a final message?” Donnie inquired, still not believing that he was asking Rapahel for romantic advice, but the truth was that Raph managed to maintain a fairly long relationship with a nice person himself.

Raphael shrugged, “Don’t know, you're the clever one.”

****

>nerdypoptardlicker: I get it now. You’re in all your right to hate me. I deserve it and it’s okay if you don’t want to speak with me anymore. I’m really sorry, for everything.

Delivered, 2:17 pm

>nerdypoptardlicker: good bye, (y/n).

Delivered, 2:17 pm

When you read that you couldn’t believe your eyes. Was that it? One week of avoiding him and that idiot was giving up on you? Un-fucking-believable. You had planned to make him pay by leaving him hanging, since you knew about his anxiety and tendency to overthink things. That was the torture he deserved. And now he decided that it was enough?

Blood was rushing furiously to your ears as your breathing became heavier. Maybe sweet Donnie needed a different kind of punishment; so for the first time in a whole week you texted him back:

>What? giving up so soon? Funny, thought you wanted me to forgive you.

delivered, 2:21 pm

You felt a pang of self-satisfaction brushing your ego when you saw him typing back after just one second.

>nerdypoptardlicker: Id o! I d!

delivered, 2:21 pm

>nerdypoptardlicker: I do! I do*

delivered, 2:21 pm

>nerdypoptardlicker: Please tell me, what should I do?!!

delivered, 2:22 pm

You smirked to yourself. Now that was interesting. You knew he had a crush on you. Hell, you had (and still have) a crush on him too, but it never occurred to you just how much Donnie was into you until he came to this point.

>Come to my apartment on Friday night and don’t tell anyone you're coming.

delivered, 2:23 pm

You had still two days to prepare your mind for what was going to happen.

*****

Donatello felt a wave of relief wash over him, but soon faded to let nervousness kick in. What were you thinking? what would he have to do? would you ask him to do something… no, that couldn’t be. Then why couldn’t he tell anyone he was going to see you? God, the possibilities were infinite. Well, if he stayed up all night he could maybe pair up all the options to make an outline of the possible ways things could turn out to be.

He got to work and before he knew, Don spent the two remaining days making stories in his head, trying to anticipate the moment with you, what you’d say and how he should answer, move, behave. The one thing Donatello didn’t want was to upset you further.

Now he stood in front of your window, fidgeting. He could feel his sweaty hands shaking a little when he knocked lightly before entering. Don called out for you and just after he spoke the lights got off, leaving him with a weird feeling creeping in the back of his neck. The sight to the inside of your place was a little more than spooky. The dark seemed to loom over him, threatening to engulf his hesitant form. Donnie called your name once again, this time his voice sounded shaky as he began to be aware of the cold sensation building in his chest.

“Over here,” your voice came from the end of the hall, the place where your bedroom was. “Come in,” you added upon not hearing him moving.

He gulped, innerly reassuring himself that he knew you. You wouldn’t ask him to do something illegal or harmful to make him pay. You were fair… but honestly, in the poor state of mind he was right now, Donatello could undoubtedly do anything you told him to, if that meant things could get back to normal.

Dark extended before him as he tried not to hit anything in his way to your room, then, suddenly there was light. Purple light. The same as the last time. Why all the dramatism? Donatello didn’t know, but it worked and it made his heart rate crazy.

You were there, dressed in black and sitting in your bed with one leg crossed over the other, looking up at him in a lurking way.

“Hi,” he muttered, breaking the tense silence.

“Oh hello,” you said in a mocking tone, “ready to pay for your stupidity?”

Your rudeness took him aback, but as expected he accepted it with the most disconsolate expression. Donatello nodded, fidgeting a little before your gaze.

“Sit” you ordered, motioning the chair beside him. It was placed a few meters from a camera mounted on a tripod. A small red light on the top indicated it was already recording. His expression fell a bit more with the upcoming realization of what you wanted: humiliation.

Donnie sat down placing one of his hands on each knee, trying to control his anxiety.

“Good boy. Now, please say clearly to the camera what you did.”

“Y/n, I-I I’m sorry I didn’t…”

“Quit apologizing. That’s not what I told you to do.” Donnie winced before looking at you through his lashes, if he had any. He resembled a scared, nervous puppy.

Donatello took a deep breath and he started over:

“I entered your apartment by the window, and… I didn’t know you weren’t home...”, he stopped, unsure of how to continue. You gave him a small push.

“But soon you realized. What did you do then?”

He could feel embarrassment creeping up his bones. Uneasiness pulsating through his skin in the most uncomfortable way.

“I wandered and wound up in your room… It smelled like you–”

“Go straight to the point, ” you demanded harshly, jolting him, “what did you do, Donnie?”

Donatello wanted the floor to open and swallow him whole. He felt a knot on his throat and his insides twisted and tangled in the worst ways, but if this was the only thing he could do to make it up to you... he'll do it.

"I saw you t-touching yourself without your consent," he said, feeling like he was about to pass out, "and it turned me on."

"What else?" you pressed.

"Y/n please–"

"What else?!" you yelled, desperate before his hesitation.

"I touched myself while you did and came all over your closet's door." Donnie’s voice was a mere whisper.

You let out a breath you'd been holding after which the sensation of a huge weight seemed to fall off your shoulders. There it was: acknowledgement. Acceptance of the viciousness committed (even if it was unintentional). Donatello was there, recognizing that he did that to you, agreeing that it was wrong and trying to make it right.

A silence – in which you almost thought he was crying – was made. None of you moved. Donatello's gaze was still stuck on the floor when he whispered, "I'm sorry."

"I know. That's why you're here," your voice was slightly softer now, "so we can make it right."

You unzipped the dark dress you were wearing to let it slip down to your toes. The sound made him look at you at last and his expression broke in surprise and bewilderment.

"W-what you doing?!" Donnie squealed while turning his head aside. His hand flew up to cover his eyes.

"You granted yourself sexual gratification at my expenses. Now it's my turn to do the same."

"What?"

"You thought the only thing you had to do was confess? honey, we're far from being over," you told him while sitting on the bed.

"Touch yourself," you commanded.

"Is this a joke?" he scoffed, his mood changing from panicked to sore.

"No, so do it.”

“I- I can’t do that y/n… this is going too far I don’t think–”

“Don’t you want to be over with this?" you coaxed, “so that everything between us can go back to normal?”

Nothing will be normal again after this, Donnie noted for himself as he obligates to look at you, slowly. His pupils blew away with the view. You were spread open in more or less the same position of the last time he saw you. Your hands fidgeted behind your back with the button of your bra and Donnie’s breath hitched when the fabric loosened over your chest.

You gazed into his eyes with the darkest of looks while slowly peeling the cloth from your body, before tossing it to the side. Your breathing was even, making your chest up and down in the prettiest form. Don was stunned.

“Answer me,” you pressed, “wouldn’t it be better to put an end to all this awful situation once and for all? Just do what I tell you… besides, you’re already turned on by all this, aren’t you?”

“I’m not!” he hushed-shout, fisting his hands over his legs as he looked away from your –almost– naked form.

“Lier,” you smirked.

He stayed still for a whole round minute before you spoke again, “If you’re not doing it, then just leave. But don’t expect to hear from me ever again.”

A piece of fabric suddenly hit his plastron and he caught it on reflex. Purple panties. Donatello looked at you in a quick motion. You were propped up on your elbows, legs wide open. His eyes suffused with surprise. He should look away. He should go. But his eyes were glued to the image of your fingers teasing your labia, gathering slick. Your cunt was wet and perfect-looking.

His breath hitched. His heart was pounding inside his plastron so fast he thought it might just rip it open, it felt hot and his stomach was bubbling. Something electric ran through him from his dick to his spine and back.

“Jerk off with me Donnie,” you pressed, your voice had softened and it came out like an irresistible velvety moan. “Do it or leave.”

You moved backwards so as to lean your back on the wall behind you. In your position, you were good and safe, while he was the only one exposed in front of the camera, facing you at the same time.

Donatello gulped, glancing at the recording device while reminding himself this was a punishment, and as humiliating as it was, he couldn’t just walk away from it if it meant to lose you. A second was enough for him to decide that you were worth it. What he felt for you was worth it. And if he forgot about pride and pudor for just one instant, Donnie could silently acknowledge that he wanted it too. To see you willingly moaning with him, fully aware of his presence. Turned on because of him, even.

One of his hands palmed his crotch over the fabric of his pants, releasing some of the tension as he sighed in relief, his eyes never leaving your form. You smiled at him.

“Good decision,” you praised, “now take it out and make sure to look at the camera.”

He nodded, his hands trembled slightly when he unzipped his pants. This felt raw and good in many different ways, but at the very bottom of those spicy feelings there was a strange sense of guilt. He shouldn’t be enjoying this, should he? Shouldn't he be mad at you for taking it this far?

He took out his cock before giving it small, slow bumps. This was being recorded. Donnie shuddered.

“Your Dick looks so hot.”

He straight out squeezed it after those words, tossing aside whatever wonders roaming his mind in favor of focusing on your voice, on the sight of you all spread open before him. Your fingers coming in and out of you at your own pace, and he got lost for a second in the way they sank into your body. You liked deep, and he burned that information in his mind.

The movements of your hand quickened. Now the sounds of your slick could be heard. Along with the small whimpers falling from your mouth, it sounded like a song he never wanted to stop listening to.

Small stroaks felt like torture now and so Donatello gripped his cock tighter and started to go faster. His mouth gaped, his gaze dark through half-lidded eyes.

You watched him closely as he moved one hand fast on his shaft, occasionally teasing the prominent head. The other ditched his pants to the side and went to palm his balls, giving them a few squeezes from time to time. A groan left his lips as he head fell back.

From where you were laying, Donatello looked divine. This was the first time you saw a mutant dick, and frankly, it was everything but disappointing. Big and thick beyond human standards and seemingly smooth. It poured a dense liquid from the tip that Don was using to lube down his shaft. You couldn’t help but think how good it’d feel stretching you out, as you wondered in how many ways could you come just by feeling it hit deep inside. With those thoughts you curled the fingers inside your cunt to bump at the right spot.

Heavy breathing and moaning sounds filled the room quickly.

“See? this isn't so bad is it?” you teased. A smirk danced on your face as he locked his gaze in yours.

Donnie didn’t speak. He feared that whatever force pulling him to do this would leave him if he dared to respond, but you pressed.

“Tell me– Tell me you feel good,” your voice sounds drunk and silky. Donnie Shrudders.

“Feels good,” he chokes out, his fist getting tighter and his pace faster. Eye contact never faded, and it was all too exciting.

“I’m close” he panted.

“Me too,” you sighed, your fingers reaching your clit rubbing circles over it for the first time in all these torturous while.

“You look so hot…” Donnie’s voice reaches your ears in the middle of the heated moment. It sounds like velvet, sensual and sincere. You moaned with the praise as more sexy incoherencies fell from his mouth.

“–I like you” he moaned louder with each breath, dragging the words in a way that sounded so sweet you couldn’t help but smile. “I like you, I like you, I like you- I– I’m coming!”

A broken cry left his mouth as he gave himself some final strokes. Don made a mess of himself. His plastron was now wet with fresh cum as his body still enjoyed the last delicious spasms. You followed him shortly after, pleasing yourself with the view and savoring every moment of the electrifying heat spreading through your body multiple contractions in a row.

For a few seconds the only sound in the room were your breaths evening as they gradually went back to normal.

After collecting yourself, you stood from your bed, moving towards the camera. Turned it off, and pulled out the small memory which contained the precious video of Donnie admitting something awful and then fucking his fist for redemption.

He observed you silently, burning your silhouette in his mind.

“Am I forgiven now?” he dared to inquire.

There is an undeniable principle about punishments: they are never meant to be enjoyed by the chastised.

“Almost,” you told him, weaving the camera memory in your hand “I just have to show this to your father.”

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vivinens · 10 months

Text

attention, please !

character(s): childe.

summary: he's a famous musician, and you're just his tired doctor being dragged along for the ride.

modern au. female reader. thank you all so much for the love on my previous post, i wasn't expecting my first one to do so well...! i hope you enjoy this longer one shot <3

You have got to be seeing a mirage, hallucinating, or both. There is no other explanation for why you can clearly see worldwide pop-rock sensation Childe hanging around inspecting heads of cabbage at your local supermarket.

You almost walk into a column when you see him, your shoes squeaking obnoxiously loud against polished concrete. You're sure your stance is reminiscent of those who come face to face with a tsunami or some similarly awful natural disaster.

You see Childe right in front of you, and you're dressed in yesterdays sweatpants with remnants of runny teary mascara on your cheeks. You can't go up and ask for his autograph. Your pride hardly let you go out in public after a week of sulking over your latest breakup, and now it's challenged by this? You must be being tested by some higher power.

He's still looking at the cabbages. How different could they be from each other? It's been multiple minutes. God, his hair looks even more perfectly disheveled in person. You suppress the urge to fall to the ground and pray for mercy.

He finally picks out one. You breathe in deeply, resolutely, and turn away. How didn't he notice you? He must be used to eyes on him at all times. You begin trying some breathing exercises as you guide your cart full of comfort food to the self checkout. You start trying to convince yourself, maybe it wasn't even him, it was probably just a trick of the light. Even though that was definitely him—he even has that burn scar on his forearm he talked about on some late night talk show a few years back.

"My little sister is not to be trusted in the kitchen," he laughed as the camera zoomed in on his arm, and the crowd laughed alongside him. You distinctly remember crying over the sight of his bare wrist like some fragile victorian-era duke.

...Whatever, so maybe it is him. So what? Who cares? Certainly not you! You're an adult woman with bills to pay, not a little girl that has posters with fraying edges on her wall.

You finish checking out your groceries, internally screeching all the while. It's only when you're back in your car, safe and sound and alone, that you allow yourself to scream loud enough to alert passerby.

You comfort yourself by saying it was over now. You never had to see his beautiful face again—everything was totally and completely under control.

"Hello," one of the nurse's assistants, Sucrose, knocks on your already opened door politely. "Sorry to bother, but your patient is ready for you now."

You look up at her over your cup of disgustingly unflavored coffee—you had felt like you needed it after your hellish rounds this morning. You're sure you look as dead as you feel, because Sucrose shies away from your stare. God, you hope you remember to apologize to the poor girl later.

"Patient? I'm not due for another appointment until ten, with Mrs. Peterson?" Your voice comes out slow, tired.

Her face falls, "No one told you? This patient needs to see a specialist as soon as possible, you should have been notified this morning..."

Knowing your luck and the morning you've had, it was probably your fault you messed up the schedule. You thank Sucrose for letting you know, and ask her to guide you to the exam room the patient is waiting in.

She briefs you as much as she can on the patient and his situation. Apparently, he was having problems with a strained voice and his agent forced him into seeing a specialist. As you flip through his files, you silently think to yourself that it's likely nothing too serious or rare. He's a young man who doesn't smoke with a relatively normal medical history, and if anything this was just a case of a vocal cord lesion or something similarly benign.

You enter the examination room, your eyes still on the blood work he had done, and spout a script about your name and routine checkups. It's a wonder how you hadn't noticed it at that point, looking back on it.

"...aren't you a little young to be a doctor?" The patient suddenly says, voice so hoarse you almost don't recognize it. Keyword almost. It takes everything in you to not let your jaw drop in shock.

No, no, you would not let this get you. You were a doctor, damn it. A professional. You worked your ass off for eight years to get where you are now, and you would not let that wash away like sidewalk chalk when it rains—even if Childe is your patient.

Deep breaths. Just breathe. Think of this like its a test.

"I'm twenty-six, but really, I don't see how my age has anything to do with your vocal chords," you smile brightly, your act perfectly in place. This was fine, you can work with this. "Did you have anyone who could speak in your place? I'd rather you not strain your voice any more than you have to."

Instead of answering, he lets out a low whistle, which is actually quite amazing considering how fried his vocal chords sound. "Twenty-six? And you're the Laryngologist my agent recommended?" He flashes a smirk. Practiced, totally fake, but it still sends your heart dropping down to your feet. "Impressive."

Your eye twitches. Why is he trying to draw out conversation like this? What is his goal? Because right about now, all he's succeeding in doing is slowly killing you.

"Thank you, Ajax—" his name, oh god you just said his name, "—but about someone to speak for you...?"

"My agent is busy trying to fix things for my upcoming tour," he sighs loudly, scratching the back of his head as he does. "And my parents are in Europe for their anniversary..." he looks up at you sheepishly. "I'd rather not worry my mother with this, you see."

You nod along. You already know he has a chronic case of Mama's boy, after being a fan of his for over a decade you've seen plenty of clips of him talking about his mother and all she does for him.

"I see. Well then, I'll handle the talking from now on, alright? Let's get started on a routine checkup." You say, placing your clipboard on the available counter. You're surprised the damn thing didn't break in two with how hard you were gripping it.

You perform the checkup with minimal issues, thankfully. A wave of guilt washed over you right before you began, and it practically scared you into being as impartial as possible. Childe—Ajax... he should have a doctor who wouldn't have shaky hands when pressing against his back for a heartbeat check.

He deserves a good doctor, and damn it all if you're not going to be the absolute best you can be. After about ten minutes of routine checkups, you're no closer to getting your diagnosis. You sigh before reluctantly telling Ajax the news.

"You'll need to come in tomorrow for a laryngoscopy," you say, fully absorbed in your observations as you think over what exactly you should be saying. "I'll be able to say something more definitive then. Make sure you prepare for the procedure—and get someone here with you, alright? You won't be able to drive yourself home afterwards."

He hums in reply, quiet and so unlike the Childe you've seen over the years. He looks... not worried, per say, just tired. A lot like you, actually. You're sure he's been stressed, a planned nationwide tour cannot be easy to organize. And this vocal injury must have only added to the stress, you feel your heart ache, and in a moment of pure determination, you open your mouth to speak again.

"I'm sure it's only a lesion," your voice is softer than it has been, a pitiful attempt at reassurance. "If you're diligent about rest, you should be able to have your treatment and recovery finished in just under a month."

He softens just a bit at that, sighing quietly as he collects himself to leave. Its a few short minutes of quiet as you read over everything you had recorded during the exam, when you hear him walk over to you. You're expecting him to shake your hand, or ask for a pen, or like, do anything other than what he does next.

He leans down, which is quite far considering you're still sitting, and his lips are right beside your ear when he whispers;

"Thank you."

He leans back up, smiles down at you, and walks out of the exam room; any previous trace of doubt or tiredness completely wiped from his person. You wish you could say the same for yourself, because you sat there for the next twenty minutes, contemplating the meaning of life.

Your choice of career was clearly a mistake.

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #💬 vivi is typing

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itsascreambaby96 · 1 year

Note

hey can you write robin x reader where reader moves in with robin in their apartment thanks

Home sweet home (Robin Buckley x fem!Reader)

Warnings: none just fluff, also not proof read.

Enjoy!🩷

Finally. The day you've waited so long for was finally here. You and your girlfriend Robin were finally moving in together. It had been quite the hassle to even find an apartment. The landlady, a sweet old lady, gave you the keys yesterday and today you would finally get your things inside. Lucky for you the kitchen was included. Your car was packed with cardboard boxes. Honestly you had way more stuff then you originally thought and so did Robin. But you were here now, the last box dropping to the floor.

The place still looked like a mess and you couldn't wait to unpack and decorate.

"Can you believe we finally made it?"

Robin popped up behind you, wrapping an arm around you.

"Not really, no. Feels surreal don't you think?"

"Totally. By the way I just had a call with the furniture store and they said that our bed will likely be here in two weeks ...."

You groaned, already frustrated again.

"Great so we have to lie on the floor this whole time?"

"I mean we already have the mattress, thanks to Steve, so it shouldn't be too bad."

You sighed and nodded. This was not how it was supposed to go, but when's life ever easy?

"Hey none of that honey. This is just a small obstacle. We are still living here with bed or without! Gives us more time to make this place feel homey, yeah? Look, I am already starting."

Robin opened the first box, filled with your old dishes that your mother gave you, that she probably inherited from a great great aunt or whatever.

"Great decoration love."

"At least this just means we don't have to eat from the floor."

She grinned and started to fill the cabinet. You kept watching her for a little while. How she moved like she has always lived here. Without a care in the world. She was humming to herself and you smiled. Gosh you loved her so much. Her dungarees making it easy for you to pull her back towards you, making her almost drop a plate, and giving her a loving kiss. She let out a pleased hum.

"What was that for?"

"Just because."

You gave her another peck, making her grin from ear to ear, realising, you get to do this every day now. Smiling to yourself you started to unpack another box.

Slowly but surely the boxes in your new home got less and less, until there were only a few left. But you couldn't bring yourself to open another box, plopping onto the old couch that your landlady kindly gifted to you. Robin in the kitchen again.

"I can't open another box. I might die from exhaustion. I think I have more than one paper cut and might have die of blood loss too. Why does it always hurt more when you cut yourself on cardboard than on paper? Do you know where the bandaids are?"

There was no response.

"Honey? The band aids please?"

Still no response. She went to look for you and found you sleeping peacefully on the sofa. Your mouth slightly opened and a bit of drool on the corner of it. Robin could feel her heart swell with love and adoration. So much so she thought she might combust. You looked so peaceful even after such a stressful and exhausting day. But Robin always thought you looked angelic no matter what. She frantically but quietly started to look for her camera. Lucky for her you've already unpacked it. And so she took a picture of you that she knows you will hate, but Robin will keep it safe in her wallet, with the rest of the pictures she already took of you.

After setting the camera down, she walked over to you, draping a blanket over the both of you, after sitting down. Her head went onto your shoulder, enveloped in your scent now, it didn't even take long for Robin to fall asleep, a smile adorning her face, as she knows that she will get to wake up with you at her side, for the rest of her life.

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley fluff #bea's writing

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enam3l · 1 year

Text

love, lola / chapter seven / banana and the band (5.6k)

Summer is in full swing. As pregnancy occupies your time, Eddie finds his own groove. But will it lead him to a future without you?

a/n: happy ending eventually, slow burn, will they won't they, a lil angsty but never mean eddie! tw: if pregnancy details and adoption

ok guys if you hadn't been wondering where this story was going, i think this chapter might give you a clue! we are really getting going now.

series masterlist / follow #enam3l love lola for instant updates / my other work / now available to read on AO3!

comment for tag list. requests open for prequel stories.

The summer of '86 was so far, looking pretty sweet for Eddie Munson; a striking contrast to the events of the spring. On top of being a high school graduate, Eddie was now gainfully employed at The Hideout. Once graduating, for the first time in his life, he'd found himself swimming in free time. No school to waste his time, his drug dealing hat hung up and unfortunately, Corroded Coffin disbanded. The other guys occupied with summer jobs or preparations for leaving Hawkins behind for college. Adventures which were not on the horizon for the likes of himself.

Then, there were only so many times he could interrupt Steve and Robin at Family Video. Eddie had already been scolded for messing with Steve's precious returns piles and Keith was threatening a Munson-ban. As for the kids, they already had so much of their childhood stolen, Eddie wanted them to have the summer to reclaim some. The lanky presence of a twenty year old former drug dealer didn't aid that - which had became painfully obvious when he'd been mistaken for Dustin's dad by the shop assistant at 7/11. And of course there was you.

Now, you did have the same endless free time as Eddie, yet he was terrified of imposing. Whereas previously, spending countless hours together wasting away the summer months had been second nature, it was no longer. The feelings Eddie first noticed when he was fourteen were bubbling back up to the surface with vengeance. During adolescence it had been easy to coexist with the love he held because being in your warm presence was all he'd known. The blissful ignorance of youth meant he hadn't quite grappled with the overwhelming nature of love. Then during those peak years of realisation from eighteen onwards, you hadn't been there.

The distance college provided was Eddie's saving grace. Allowing him to compartmentalise his feelings towards you and store them in a locked box in the attic of his mind. Two years later, you've now returned. Bursting through the attic hatch, wielding bolt cutters to break open the industrial chains he'd put on that dusty box to keep it sealed. Unwittingly you've now unleashed a lifetime of all consuming love. The kind that has Eddie no longer knowing how to be normal around you. Bubbles fizz in his stomach in your presence, pressure rising to the point he fears the cork will pop and every soppy thought will flow from his mouth. Like a lovesick teenager he feels his palms sweat as his uncontrollable hand itches to take yours. So if anything, Eddie needs something to occupy not only his time but his mind. Something to prevent the impulses that zap through him.

So that's where Eddie found that for once, the universe offered him a sprinkle of luck. On a summer evening as he nursed a beer, longingly watching you twirl around with Robin, he was propositioned. From behind the bar, Carl, the owner of The Hideout croaked.

'So, Munson, now you're a free man, take it you been finding yourself with a lotta time on ya hands?'

Eddie scoffs and nods, he doesn't know the half hour of it. Yesterday he took apart and reassembled Wayne's radio just for something to do - it now only plays stations in what they think is Portuguese.

'Well, can always do with extra hands round here, man...' Carl shrugs.

Eddie whips his head round, raising an eyebrow.

'Carl, let's be serious, we both know I am not twenty one, right?'

Carl cracks up.

'No shit, kid. You don't think I can tell a Sharpie job on an ID?'

They both laugh, he'd lost the flawless looking fake ID you'd made for him whilst you'd been away. Resulting in him feebly attempting forgery. He quickly realised that fake IDs and forgery were not something he could add to his portfolio of criminal services a long with dealing.

'Not gonna get your ass shut down for having someone underage kid working?' Eddie asks. Carl shakes his head.

'Hell no, you think they send agents to check in at this shit hole? Pretty sure we're on file as going out of business a decade ago. Nah, man, your only problem would be Chief Hopper and he'd let it slide for you, right?'

Eddie mulls it over. It's the best offer he's been given... the only offer he's been given. He could get a few drinks for free, maybe use the stage and equipment to practice, see a few gigs. Do anything other than obsess over you.

'Yeah, yeah, Hopper would be cool. What would you have me doing? Need some muscle on the door,' Eddie smirks, flexing his lean arms like Popeye.

'Sure, I'll call you if the stray cats outside get rowdy... I was thinking more like the bar. Means I can stay in the office, means the girls we already got on the bar have someone to look out for em, plus you know all the wiring and shit better than me. Can sort all that out for the bands?'

Carl sees the smile spread across Eddie's face and offers out a hand.

'We got a deal, Munson?'

Eddie's ringed hand grips Carl's aged tattooed one.

'Fuck yeah.'

By August you're four months pregnant and every morning is a nauseating guessing game even without the morning sickness.

Once the creeping morning light wakes you, a ritual that started at the beginning of summer, starts. Five deep breaths, eyes squeeze shut, then you raise your duvet, open your eyes and see if over night your stomach has miraculously blown up like a balloon. Then you convince yourself that sight deceives you and obsessively probe your stomach to see if it feels rounder than last night. All this plotting and secrecy was pointless if your body betrayed you, the bump appearing and giving it away like a pointing neon sign. But thankfully, the universe had granted you a sliver of luck and the bump was barely bigger than the aftermath of a large dinner. Nothing anyone would notice. Nothing Eddie would notice.

Still, there were other factors you constantly feared would give up the game. You wondered if anyone noticed your reluctance to enter the pool all summer. Both Gran's and Steve's remained untouched by yourself despite numerous days spent lounging around it with your friends.

'The baby can't drown when it's inside you,' Steve had snorted.

You knew that, having approached pregnancy as you would a school test. Meticulously revising in attempt to make pregnancy appear as something to learn about and not something happening to you. Swimming was listed as a pregnancy safe exercise. But you're sure the subjects tested weren't in a pool with a gaggle of sun drunk teenage boys and a lanky best friend who insisted on hurling you around. You don't believe it would be best pleased to find itself wobbling around on Eddie's shoulders as you wrestled Robin on top of Steve. Plus, wearing a swim suit that exposed your stomach, highlighting it to the world, felt like tempting fate. And a shallow lovesick part of you didn't want Eddie to see you in a bikini, skin exposed, unless you looked perfect.

The other glaring giveaway was you weren't drinking and what was summer without boozy evenings with friends? This all became even trickier now Eddie was behind the bar at The Hideout. No longer could you pretend there was rum hiding in your coke when you were ordering from him. Luckily, Steve was a true friend and stepped up. A true friend who had never drank so much in his life. Making sure to always drink your decoy or order on your behalf. You were glad Eddie had got the job, had something to motivate him and get up for. The downside was now he was the Hideout's resident eye candy. Every night out you were forced to witnessed the girls flocking to the bar and pawing at him. Big lashes batting at him, asking for their fourth drink in the last hour; pouting that they'd spilt their previous glass. Infuriatingly, despite being a goof, Eddie was painstakingly charming; something he failed to realise. His natural charisma oozing as he smirked at the girls needing a replacement,

'Oh it just fell out of your hand? Well we can't be having that, doll. 'Pose you want the same again?'

You watched the girls fluster, knees buckling and not just from the booze and heels, a reaction you'd had a plenty. It only grew worse once they found out he was talented eye-candy as they caught him on stage doing sound checks or providing back up when a band's guitarist had one too many. The kicker was the female clientele of the Hideout were exactly what you'd imagined his type to be. Buxom heavy metal cover girls with smouldering eyes and a music taste much more in tune with his. A lethal combination of heartbreak, jealousy and fury bubbled inside, only aided by raging pregnancy hormones and again without alcohol to numb the pain. Your only comfort was Steve's protective reaction where he would slide you a warm hand to squeeze.

That warm hand was there again when you finally caved and went to get your first scan. Admittedly, you should've already had one but you had buried yourself in denial. Not wanting to hear that tiny pulsing which would cause you to crash land into reality. But at twenty weeks, you knew you had to, it would be irresponsible not to. The adoption agency you had been in contact with needed to know a due date and ideally a scan for prospective parents. It made you feel a little queasy, the thought of the now banana sized being inside you getting advertised. A little grainy picture used to grab the attention of the highest bidder, like a used goods flier pinned to a bulletin board at the grocery store. What could you do though? That was the process, this is what you had to do.

The appointment came round on the 22nd August, a Friday which was far too sunny when you felt so blue. Not even the air conditioning of Steve's BMW could prevent the sweat that beaded on your forehead; a mixture of anxiety and the abnormally warm summer. The car was silent in anticipation, thick with the looming sense of how real the situation you'd gotten yourself in was about to become. You stare at the backs of your moral supporters' heads. Gran staring wistfully at the blur of orange, blue and green outside. Steve's gaze fixated on the road as his knuckles whitened with his grip on the wheel. The blaring WHAM! tape a stark contrast to the somber mood.

Steve's hand gripped yours in support as you reclined on the bed in anticipation for the nurse. Gran's firm on your shoulder. The two people who you knew were going to keep you grounded until this blip in your life was over. The nervous energy was interrupted by the chirping of the nurse.

'Hi, Miss Y/L/N?' you nod, 'good morning! How we feeling today? Excited? Nervous?'

You could tell she was good at her job, had mastered the art of talking to ease people.

'How about you, Mom or I guess Grandma now? And Dad to be?'

Gran winces. Steve's breath hitches. Oh crap, you think, I'm about to foil up this poor woman's routine. One top of that, the message that no one was going to become anything other than what they already were, clearly hadn't been passed on. The three of you look between each other grimacing. Your voice croaks nervously.

'Oh urm, this is actually my Gran... and he's not the father...'

Steve gives an awkwardly cheerful salute 'Just a good friend.'

The nurse clearly looks as if she's about to say something nice but you have one final blow.

'And, urm...' you squirm on the squeaking bed, 'I'm not keeping it. The baby - sorry. They're getting adopted.'

For the first time, her kind smile falters as she flusters on her word.

'Oh - oh god. I'm so sorry! There's usually a note and - oh, my apologies... well... shall we make sure they're all okay in there?'

You nod, making sure to put on a big smile to ease the nurse so she can get back into her rhythm. Carefully you roll your top up to reveal your belly... or lack there of.

'I... don't really have a bump? Is that normal? Are they okay?'

The nurse is quick to reassure, 'Don't worry! Bump size is different for everyone. Nothing to worry about but we'll double check, alright?'

Both Gran and Steve offer another soothing squeeze. Brandishing the gel, you’re given a warning.

‘Okay, hon, now this will be cold. You ready?’

You nod but the response is quickly cut off as the thick gel hits your stomach like ice sludge. An involuntary squeal escapes. Steve let’s out a snigger at your response and is met by glares from every woman in the room.

‘It’s not that bad, surely?’ He attempts to crack.

The unamused look on your face should’ve warned him not to push it. Quickly, your free hand swipes up a glob of the gel and slathers it on Steve’s exposed forearm. The squeak that escapes him is far more girlish than you ever could’ve produced. You smirk at his frown. How was this the response from a man who has been mauled by inter-dimensional creatures? Gran and the nurse cackle as he untwines his fingers from yours to rub at the frozen patch of skin.

‘Ok… point proven,’ he sulks.

After reapplying the gel, you all watch with bated breath as the scanner makes contact with your stomach. The smooth surface glides over the skin, searching. No one in the room dares to exhale. Now, your mind races with potential problems. You feel foolish for not being more concerned about the lack of bump. Despite everything, despite the colossal detour this baby has taken your life on, you want it to be there. You want it to be okay.

The sonogram screen looks nothing but like static to you. Jarring flickers of black and white. Nothing your eyes can recognise as a life form. It's all silent.

Then finally, a soft pulsing begins to echo out of the tinny speakers. The two hands digging into your skin finally relax a little.

'There we go,' the nurse beams, 'looks like we have a little burrower on our hands.'

The image stills and she pauses over the right spot. It's not exactly a breathtaking picture of what grows inside you. The edges are fuzzy, it's abstract. Like an impressionist painting of life.

'C-could you point it out... I'm not sure where they are on screen,' your voice is laced with embarrassment. As if not being able to instantly recognise the baby made you a bad mother. But I'm not a mother, I'm not going to be you have to remind yourself.

A blue gloved finger outlines a section on screen.

'Oh,' you gasp. It's so obvious now she shows you. 'A little banana.' The internal musing manages to pass your lips and three sets of eyes look at you confused.

'That's what the book said,' you stutter, 'by twenty weeks they'd be the size of a banana...'

The nurse chuckles along with Gran as Steve remains fascinated by the little wiggling form on screen.

'Yeah, that's about right,' the nurse adds, 'although I would say this is quite a little banana, but...'

She scans back over again to be sure, 'a very healthy little one!'

Gran leans presses a kiss to the side of your head.

'I knew it, it's all okay in there. You've done good,' as it did when you were small, her voice still soothes you like nothing else.

The question you've been dreading finally comes.

'So, Y/N, would you like to know the baby's gender?' The nurse smiles. Before you can stop yourself and compose a more succinct answer you blurt out,

'No!'

You're met back with surprised and alarmed blinking eyes. The nurse, Steve and Gran looking between each other to work out what just happened.

'The adoption agency don't require it. Just as long as they're healthy. That's all, that's fine,' you attempt to reason. Gran tucks a finger under your chin, her sharp eyes analysing your own.

'Are you sure you don't want to know darling?' She drawls out the 'sure' for emphasis.

'I'm sure. We're done.'

In the car home you feel embarrassed by your sharpness over the gender. Again you travel in awkward silence. One of the more exciting parts of pregnancy for most, just an uncomfortable experience for you. The open window causes the printed sonogram picture to flutter between your fingers. The motion causing the black and white haze to dance around like it had on screen. As if your banana size baby was hopping around. You wonder if they will start to bop around inside you, the nurse said they should start to move anytime now. Will they stay a little burrower or would they become a relentless little wriggler? Eddie's baby would definitely be a wriggler. You pinch your thigh for that thought. Thoughts like that now intrude daily, as if your own mind is trying to torture you. It's why you didn't want to know the gender.

The last thing you needed was another sliver of information that could paint a fantasy for you. Your imagination would only take the gender and run with it. It would allow you to truly picture the baby. What they'd look like, who they'd be or all the things they could've been had they been Eddie's. It feels cruel to say and it's why you didn't explain in the hospital room, but you don't want to humanise the baby. The more you pretend this is nothing more than a project or a transaction, the easier this will be. Already your heart hurts too much.

Over at The Hideout, Eddie squints in concentration, pushing escaping strands of hair out of his face. Sweat drips down his neck, skin exposed due to the ponytail. The stage lights are hot on him as he toys with the wiring for the amps and speaker system. All day he's spent setting the place up for a big gig. A few repeat guests supporting a once regular band that had gathered a lot of heat. Setting this night up made Eddie, for the first time, feel important and valued. A sensation that sent electric bolts through his body and not in the same way as earlier when an old wire sparked.

For a rundown bar in a dead end town, The Hideout had garnered a cult venue status for metal and rock bands dotted between Hawkins and Indianapolis. The headliners Kraven were familiar to Eddie, having played a few of the same shows as Corroded Coffin. More rock than metal but still good, very good. They had garnered a big hype, getting shows at real venues in the city and those getting rave reviews in magazines and the paper. Eddie had been pretty surprised they'd been down to come back to The Hideout for the end of summer event he'd organised. Carl had been impressed with his ability with the bar, quick to let Eddie become his right hand man. The ultimate approval was now getting granted permission to throw his very own event.

'Shit, bro. You fuckin set all this shit up already?' Taylor, the lead of Kraven appeared beside Eddie. Tanned skin littered with tattoos and messy waved bleach white hair; the perfect image of a rockstar.

'Um yeah, pretty much. It was no problem...' Eddie shrugs.

'Wicked, thanks dude. So, you still playin yourself?' Taylor asks casually as he strolls over to his guitar. Fingers artfully tuning it.

'No, not really. Band kinda broke up. They're all off to college and shit.'

Eddie feels a little embarrassed under Taylor's confident gaze. Embarrassed to admit his band had fallen apart to someone whose was thriving.

'Damn fuckin shame!' Taylor bellows into the microphone. His impressive voice echoing through the empty venue. 'You guys were pretty sick, y'know? Especially you bro. Fucking shredder!'

For a different reason now, Eddie blushes with embarrassment. But this time because someone like Taylor thinks he's talented. Thinks he hadn't just wasted his time with music.

'Oh, shit, well... thanks! Means a lo-'

'Wanna play with us tonight?' Taylor casually asks like it's nothing. He must notice the bafflement in Eddie's face so he continues.

'We're a man down. Lead guitarist ain't here. Was gonna just cover myself but... dunno, think it would pretty hardcore if you filled in?'

Eddie feels his jaw drop; now he's really flattered. The thought is nerve wracking but god, did he miss performing.

'Fuck... are you sure? I mean I don't even know your stuff?'

Taylor scoffs, 'Fuck yeah. Look you'd be doing us a favour and you're good, you'll pick it up easy over practice.'

The electricity running through Eddie increases tenfold. Who is he to refuse a guy as cool as Taylor? Plus, a desperate part in the back of his mind whispers a fantasy of you swooning seeing him on stage again for the first time in years.

As the stage lights came on, Eddie desperately resisted the temptation to rub his eyes; now lined in perfectly smudged black kohl. The Kraven look was a little different to Corroded Coffin's, more Studio 54 than biker bar. The rest of the band all exposed glittering skin, tight leather and mesh. After rehearsals, Eddie had gone back to the house to rummage for anything that fit the brief. His chosen look of skin tight shredded black jeans, home cut vest and leather jacket was met with approval.

'Let me just add the finishing touches,' the drummer's girlfriend had said.

She sat Eddie down, hovering over his lap as she artfully smudged the liner. Her eyes fixated on his own whilst smearing a layer of glitter over it. The intimacy of his pre-show rehearsal caused his imagination to picture you instead. When he closed his eyes it was you straddling his lap, soft fingertips sweeping on his eyelids and wishing him words of encouragement. Just as he had in the dressing room, Eddie stood on stage wondering what you'd think. Would you like this new look? Would you find it hot? He knows you like Bowie. Then there were other concerns, you hadn't seen him play since you'd left for New York. He's pretty sure he became a much better musician since then. Losing himself in Corroded Coffin in a desperate attempt to fill the void you left. Eddie prays you like this. Prays you enjoy watching him perform.

The spiralling thoughts are knocked out of Eddie as Taylor strums the first note on his guitar and the performance begins.

When the stage lights illuminate the figures on stage, you cough up your swig of cranberry juice. There is one guitarist up there who you definitely recognise. You'd arrived with the gang earlier, excited for the evening Eddie had worked hard organising. He'd miraculously left out the part where he would be performing himself. Steve pats your back from your choking whilst the rest of the group gawp.

'What the fuck?!' Robin shouts, 'is that Eddie?'

You nod feebly, still speechless. This band looked like a real band, Eddie looked like a star. Even from where you all huddled in your usual booth you could see him oozing effortless swagger.

'Did you know he was playing tonight?' Nancy asks in bafflement.

'No,' you reply meekly, 'not a clue...'

You hadn't seen Eddie play since you left for college. It appeared in the meantime he'd gotten even better. Argyle was up and rallying you all.

'Dudes, this is fuckin sweet! Come on we gotta go up there!'

Everyone was quick to file out the booth, weaving into the crowd to get closer to the stage. As if Eddie's guitar was a siren's call, you found yourself following them until a tug at your sleeve pulls you back.

Steve frowns, 'what are you doing? Are you sure that's safe?'

'I don't want to miss it! It'll look weird if I'm not there as well,' you're sure your voice whines like a teenager.

'Yeah but...' Steve's eyes full of worry flicker down to your stomach.

'It'll be okay, you'll stay with me right?' A dramatic sigh signals you've won the argument.

'Yes, fine, of course I will.'

Steve firmly grips your hand, shielding you as he pushes through the crowd until he finds the others.

Only a few rows back from the stage, you now see Eddie fully.

Framing his dark chocolate eyes are smudges of eyeliner and glitter that reflects the colourful lights. The make up makes his eyes even more intense. The two orbs seem to find you in the crowd and light up. Their magnetism making you feel like you're the only one in the room. His ringed fingers move faster and in more intricate ways than you've ever seen him do before. Fuck, Eddie was always a talented musician but he'd improved tenfold in the last two years. Not just him, however, the whole band look professional. All the members in perfect harmony. The songs not just covers or tunes thrown together in a garage, they're hits. You have no idea how Eddie has ended up a part of them, whoever they are but they're electrifying.

It's not just you who thinks so. The whole crowd moves like a wave, losing themselves in the music. In the corner of your eye you see Robin, Jonathan and Argyle's hair whipping round wildly. The sheer energy in the room makes the air thick and sticky. You can't help the way your eyes fixate on the beads of sweat trickling down Eddie's thick neck, over his collar bone, past his pecks and disappearing under his vest. This was torturous. As the band stop whilst the lead singer talks, you watch as Eddie removes his leather jacket. Strong but lean arms revealed.

When the band start back up a gasp sticks in your throat as he begins a solo. Damp curls falling as he concentrates on the notes he plays. Veins flexing under the taught porcelain skin of his arms. Like the rest of the crowd you scream. A family of bats dancing. You're unable to ignore the volume of female voices joining in on the cheering. Your blood boils with envy that others should be looking at your Eddie and thinking thoughts that slip out when you're alone in bed. You can't believe he's real. Yet, he is and painfully, he isn't yours. There's a room full of women here who he could go home with. Who aren't his best friend. Who aren't pregnant.

When they finally finish and file off the stage, Eddie's heart is still going like a jackhammer. Adrenaline from performing still coursing through his veins. Holy fuck he'd missed this. The other factor causing his pulse to race is raw jealousy. The entire show his eyes burnt at the spot where Steve's arm was wrapped tight around you. Large hand possessively gripping your shoulder, tucking you in beside him. That is not right, Eddie fumes, Steve isn't your protector or comfort, that's his role.

Congratulatory claps on his back shake Eddie out of his sulk. The guys from Kraven flocking round him.

'Eddie, bro that was fucking hardcore!'

'You're a lifesaver, dude, honestly!'

'You were on fire out there, my man!'

Eddie's cheeks flush with the praise from people he can't believe like him - think that he is talented.

'Oh, urm, thank you!' He stutters, 'thanks for letting me play! Look, I'm just gonna to see my friends, caught them in the crowd. I'll see you in a minute?'

The guys nod.

'No worries, bro. Just come back to the dressing room when you're done!' Taylor shouts after him as Eddie throws a thumbs up. Quick to run back into the bar and find you.

It takes Eddie a matter of seconds to spot you in the crowd. He's certain even if this were Madison Square Garden and he was blindfolded, he'd find you.

'Sweetheart!' He bellows over the chattering crowds and pulsing speakers.

Instantly your head whips round to see him, stood there in all his sweat covered glory. You're quick to slip out of Steve's arms and run into Eddie's.

'Ah I'm sweaty I don't wanna get you-' his protests are cut off as you slam into him. Oblivious and uncaring of his damp skin, you wrap your arms around his neck. Instinctively your fingers finding the damp curls at the back of his neck. He indulges and wraps his own tightly round your waist.

'Teddy, you were so fucking amazing,' you pull back so you can swat at his exposed chest from the sagging vest. 'Why didn't you tell me you were playing!'

Eddie chuckles at your childish frown and pout. His now calloused finger reaches to smooth down the line in your furrowed brow.

'Wasn't planned, sweets. They were a man down so I guess surprise...'

You let your fingers linger on his chest. Running your tips round over the hot smooth skin, a move that feels too intimate but you can't resist. It takes all of Eddie's strength not to groan at the feeling. He wonders if you feel how hard his heart beats under your touch. Wonders if you realise you're the cause.

'You were amazing. I mean, you always were but... now. That was something else! How could you keep that from me!'

His cheeks flush at your compliments. They feel so much more meaningful leaving your lips.

'You really think so?' He mumbles, 'guess I had a lot of time on my hands without you...'

The words pierce your heart. You knew the feeling, days became endless without Eddie. You didn't realise he'd felt the same through those two years. Pulling him back into a hug, you bury your face into the crook of his neck. It smells like sweat, smoke and his aftershave but it's all Eddie. It's home.

'I'm sorry,' you whisper. Your lips move against his skin and he lets himself pretend it's almost a kiss. He closes his eyes in bliss having you close like this. One arm pulling you tight against him, fingers trailing up your spine. The other wrapped round your shoulder, his tired hands running through your soft locks. Eddie sees how far he can push his luck as he presses his lips and nose to the crown of your head. Inhaling your smell whilst lightly pressing a kiss.

Back in the dressing room, Eddie is surprised to find the band gathered as if they're holding a meeting. A bizarre contrast to see such animated people wear such serious expressions.

'Eddie, hey! Come sit,' Taylor waves him over, pointing to a chair.

He sits down and looks around at the other guys awkwardly. All their eyes on him. It feels like a very strange AA meeting.

'So... you guys good? Happy with the show?' He asks to try and break the tension.

Keith the drummer chirps up.

'Yeah bro, we're good, real good. The show was sick. That's what we wanted to talk about actually...'

Keith nods to Taylor as if to signal for him to go on.

'Look, Eddie, I'll be real with you. Kraven, we're doing well. It's not been announced yet but... we're signed. We've been working on a debut album for a few months...'

Eddie's eyes widen. It does make sense, he wonders why they hadn't said though.

'Shit, guys, that's awesome. Well done-'

Taylor cuts Eddie off.

'That's not all... we may have come with ulterior motives. Our lead guitarist, tonight wasn't just a one off. He quit...'

Eddie's mouth forms a little 'O'.

'He decided going pro, it wasn't for him. It's cool. So we've been looking for a new lead. Then you called offering the gig and it was like, fuckin' serendipity. We all remembered how hardcore you were with your band.'

The rest of the band nod whilst Eddie's brain feels like it's about to malfunction.

'W-what are you guys saying?' He stumbles out.

'Well... we knew you were talented. Then tonight just proved our theory correct. Eddie, bro... we want you to join the band.'

For the first time in his life, Eddie Munson might be speechless. The silence is filled then by Spike their bass player.

'I know this sounds fuckin batshit brother but we were so good out there, together. You're better than this place, too talented to just be managing a bar in a random ass town. You could be doing the real thing with us, man. We've been out in Cali recording...'

Eddie scans the room, at the pleading faces before him. This feels like a dream. This can't be happening, shit like this is from movies, they don't happen to Eddie the freak Munson. And California? That's like a million miles away. He's barely left the state. It's a million miles away from you. From that New York plan he'd wishfully proposed. But then, what else does he really have? He can't just tag along on your life forever. Taylor coughs, interrupting his freak out.

'So, what do you say, dude... wanna be Kraven's lead guitar?'

tag list: @tlclick73 @probablyin-bed @fangirling-4-ever @booksarekindaneat @azydrateanatomy @sadbitchfangirl @fluffybunnyu @big-ope-vibes @beam86 @midnightsgetawaycar @stevieharringtonswife

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ieonkennedyswife · 5 months

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𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

*Draco sat alone in the garden, thinking to himself as He laid against a tree. He had harry on his mind, how could he be so.. annoying? but so.. so hot.. When suddenly, a voice pops up from behind him.*

“Draco? What are you doing here?”

*It was harry? Draco’s eyes widened as a tint of pink covered his face, he quickly stood up, gathering his things as he struggled to look harry in the eye.*

“Nothing. I was just leaving.” *Draco huffed, looking at harry as harry suddenly pulls him closer, caressing his cheek with his thumb.*

“Draco, you’re so cute when your flustered.”

*He grinned, before kissing draco. Draco gasped, although going with the kiss later.*

Harry pulled away, a grin slowly forming onto his face as he looked into his eyes. On the other hand, Draco was a flustered mess, he had never been kissed by a man before, yet it felt so good...

What was this? Was he gay? No way. He would never. He had always been taught that men should love women, and women should love men. This was different, a man loving a man? A man... kissing a man? And it... feeling so good.

Draco looked at the ground, although Harry's dominant hand grabbed ahold of his chin, slowly pulling it up to face him. Harry grinned, looking at the tree then back at Draco.

"Malfoy... Never thought you could be so submissive when you're flustered?|" *Harry giggled. He tilted his head slightly, giving him a teasing-yet-seductive stare as he rolled his eyes, letting go and stepping back and he crossed his arms.*

"...Potter, sh-shut up!" *Draco stuttered, glaring at him as he blushed heavily. He couldn't help but back up a little, some sort of gay panic overcoming him as he fiddled with his hands. His cloak uniform shuttered around in the wind, his hair turning to a mess along with his attitude.*

"Meet me at my dorm tonight. Okay?" *Harry shrugged, before walking off into the school thing idk what its called*

*It was around 7 at night, Draco almost didn't go to his dorm.. but something inside told him too. Was it his heart? Or was it the sexual tension from earlier that day that he so desperately wanted to experience again. He didn't know, he just wanted to be loved, and to be loved, he needed Harry.. He needed that man that just yesterday he hated deeply. But why? He doesn't know. Maybe one day, sooner or later, he would find out.*

*He sighed, clutching his hands as they balled into fists. He slowly walked up to Harry's dorm, in which he found the number to it from Hermoine. Draco slowly raised his hand to the door, making 3 slow knocks.*

*Knock.... Knock.... door open:3*

*Harry wiped his eyes slowly, staring at Draco. He smirked, pulling Draco into his dorm by the waist. Draco's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing a dark red as his ears burned with a lighter tone of pink.*

"Potter', what are you doing?!"

*Harry huffed, staring into his eyes as he pulled him close, running his hands through Draco's hair as he glanced over at the floor, then back up at him as it was practically pitch black out, the only source of light to illuminate the room was a small bedside lamp.*

"Taking you to bed." *He stared at him seductively, before pulling him to bed and holding him close. Draco's eyes widened, letting out a little scream as he pulled him in. He had never experienced someone this in love before, this... gay.*

"Relax Malfoy, I just wanna hold you close, for tonight, just tonight, just like... this." *He said, nuzzling his face into his shoulder as he closed his eyes slowly. On the other hand, Draco couldn't sleep, he wondered how long this night would take, and if this panic would reside... And he would finally fall asleep.*

I woke up, a grasp held around my waist. The sun shining it's way through the window of my dorm, my hand going limp against the bed side. It wasn't only till I was lucid that I realized I was being held. It was confusing at first, my eyes widened slightly, till I turned my head. It was.. Draco, what was he doing? I hadn't remembered much from the night before, to me, it was all a blur. I sighed, raising a hand. I tilted my head, my hand moving to graze his hair. It was beautiful, the golden pierce that shined his good looks. I admired him, and in that time, all my hatred faded away like we've always been like this. Though he was a mess, I didn't mind. After all, he looked better like this rather than in that green uniform of his. I chuckled, though sooner or later he woke up too.

With a slight groan, his eyes opened slightly. I moved my hand back quickly, my face flushing with my eyes rather wide. I sat up, glancing back at him. I scratched the back of my neck, watching him wake up with a soft expression. I knew how he perceived me, and how I perceived him. We loved eachother, or atleast thats what I thought. Perhaps it was too early to confirm love? It wasn't hate, no. He wouldn't of looked at me that way, that evening. That wasn't hate in his eyes, more or less, adoration.

Eventually, he woke up, though he didn't seem rather pleased. Back to his old self, I assume. He looked at me, looked at me like I was crazy. He flung himself out of my bed, daring to even look at me. I stood up, walking over to him as my hand instinctly clutched his shoulder harshly. That same shoulder, being the one I nuzzled my face in last night.

"Draco-"

I muttered, my voice soft due to having just woken up. He pushed my hand aggressively, as I just froze, watching him walk away towards the front door. I tried to speak, but my mouth failed me like hell. At that time, I wanted to plead for his forgiveness, for his love, but I knew he wouldn't hear me. Thinking of our previous meetings, he never heard me. He knew what he wanted, but not what I wanted. Was I just his gay awakening? Just a getaway car? I couldn't let him do this to me, not like this. I wouldn't let this happen, he's mine, no matter what he tries to say, do, or think. Draco turned around, looking at me with a gaze that spoke of pure hatred, like a devil's glare.

*"Forget it, Potter."*

He said, before making his exit.

I didn't reply, as mentioned, I couldn't. My hand just moved to my mouth, as a singular tear fell from my eye.

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thebluestbluewords · 4 months

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anti-Valentine’s Valentine’s date

I tried SO HARD to write the adorable Jal prompt that I received for Jalentines day, and instead of cute all my brain wanted to write was angst. Set in approximately D2, it’s a 3k lead-in to a longer Jal fic that I’m probably not going to finish writing.

Mal kicks the door of the boy's dorm open with the heel of the stupid, impractical strappy sandals she's been wearing since before dinner.

Or at least, that's what she tries to do. Instead, because her life is a curse and the very existence of high heels is a prison, the delicate silver heel of the shoe that Evie spent hours sourcing for her snaps off.

Great. Perfect. This is just how she wanted the night to go.

Mal pounds on the door with her fist instead. "Open up! I brought misery and disdain for the institution of love!"

A thump. "And chocolate?"

"No, I didn't steal any chocolate at all from my date with the king of Auradon," Mal says, as sarcastically as she can manage with one shoe on and the other broken to pieces in her hands. "Just let me in already."

The door pops open. "You're late." Carlos informs her. "Evie already went back to your room."

Wonderful.

"I don't care," Mal informs him right back, and shoves her purse, which is tiny and lilac and stuffed to the brim with all the chocolate she could fit, into his hands. "I need this princess shit off my body yesterday. I am not cut out for valentine's day, that's what I've learned, and also Ben's going to dump me and I don't care."

"Woah. Uh. Maybe you should care--"

Mal spins around to glare at him, and Carlos immediately throws his hands up. "I MEAN, your judgement is impeccable and we all hate Ben now!"

Ugh.

"I don't hate him," Mal snaps, yanking her earrings out and throwing them sort of in the direction of somebody's dresser. There's still enough empty space on the top for her to recognize it as a dresser, so signs point to it belonging to Carlos. "I hate love. And valentine's day. And dating."

"You said you hated froot loops yesterday." Carlos points out. "Because I took the last of them. So like, I'm gonna take this with a spoonful of salt here. Did your date not go well?"

Mal rips the pins out of her hair with so much force that one of them flies into the mirror. It doesn’t shatter, which is a fucking shame. She would have liked to make an awful mess. "I hate love, and I'm going to die alone surrounded by the bones of my enemies. No, it did not "go well,”” She stops ripping out pins long enough to add air quotes, which are essential to the dramatic effect of it all. "He asked if I love him back, and I told him, again, that I don't know how to love people, and he made this horrible face and was so kind about the whole thing, and just-- ugh!"

Carlos is hovering. "I’m…sorry?"

"I'm sorry we ever came here." Mal spits, yanking her other shoe off and throwing it somewhere in the direction of Jay's shoe pile. "I don't-- I can't be a princess. I hate that I just-- I don't know how to do anything, and I hate when people look at me like I'm supposed to know what I'm doing, and there were all these cameras, and--augh!"

"Jay's in the shower," Carlos offers. "If you want to bother him about it."

"I want to hit something," Mal admits. It's not a perfect solution, but she's already feeling a little bit less like her skin is on too tight now that she's got her hair loose and wild around her shoulders and her earrings and stupid, uncomfortable, impractical shoes off. "I think-- d'you want to spar with us?"

"Can't. Homework." Carlos gestures to the textbooks he's got spread out on the neater one of the boys’ beds. "I've got a test tomorrow and if I fail I'll have to retake the class."

Mal leans over so she can see the textbooks. It looks like history, maybe. Something with a lot of dense text and no visible math problems. "I can't imagine you failing any test, furball." she says, meaning it. How well they thrived on the isle of the lost isn't a perfect gauge for how well they're doing in Auradon, but school is school no matter where they are, and Mal can't remember her little nerd ever failing a test.

Carlos goes even tenser at her attempt at reassurance. "First time for everything."

"Still, you failing?" Mal scoffs. "We're in Auradon, not Wonderland. Not everything is upside down and inside out and topsy-turvy. Or whatever Allie’s sayings are.. You'll be fine."

"I'll be better if I study. Sorry. No sparring for me tonight."

Ugh. Mal rips another pin out of her hair and throws it towards the mirror with the others. "Suit yourself. I'm going to go bother Jay into letting me beat the shit out of him."

Carlos flashes her a little half smile. "Have fun."

“Oh, I will,” Mal assures him, and spins around to go invade the sanctity of the boy’s showers.

The short, barefoot walk down the hallway to the boy's bathrooms gives Mal critical time to think about her plan of attack. She's wicked and awful, naturally, but she's also not especially interested in getting shouted at by a teacher for being out of bed and in the boy's showers tonight. She's had enough of being shouted at by adults who think they know better than her. She's not some Auradon girl to be controlled, so she's simply not going to get caught.

Which means she's going back to the boys room.

At least she'll remember to grab some different shoes this time.

"Fuck off, Mal," Carlos calls through the door when she knocks a second time. "You can't steal my shoes."

"I can steal whatever I want, actually," Mal corrects him, opening the door and barging in, as is her right as their fearless leader. She is Mal of the Isle, and she's not a prize to be won or a princess to be wooed. She's going to steal whatever shoes she likes. "Jay's shoes don't fit me right."

Carlos throws a pen at her. "Neither do mine, you're just delusional about the size of your own feet. At least take my sneakers if you're going sparring. I hate when we have to dig out the poison kit after hours."

Mal sticks her tongue out at him. Her shoes are all perfect, and she's also perfectly aware of the size of her feet, which are currently half a shoe size smaller than the one Carlos wears. As such, their shared approximate size gives her the right to steal his shoes whenever the princess ones she's been dressed in are too much for her to manage, physically or mentally. . "I'm taking the ones with spikes."

"Are not."

"Are so," Mal says, diving under the bed to where he keeps all four pairs of his shoes lined up. "I'm going to add more spikes while you're not looking. Poison-tipped ones. Razor-sharp."

"Use porcupine quills, they're barbed." Carlos says helpfully, making absolutely no motion to get up and defend his shoes.

Mal shoves aside the fallen textbook, grabs the hoodie shoved under the bed for later, and ah. There’s her prize. Boots (with spikes), dress shoes, cleats (more spikes), and there at the end, sneakers.

"Fishhooks," Mal suggests. "The giant ones that rip holes when they come out. And I'll dip them in bleach powder so it burns the whole time they're inside."

Carlos shudders. "Gross."

"You're gross," Mal rips her dress over her head, and does not wince at the popping noise the shoulder seam makes. Evie can fix it again later, or they can burn it. Whichever. "I'm taking your clothes too."

"Wash the bloodstains out before you put them back."

Shirt. Pants. Hoodie. Sneakers.

Ill-gotten disguise on, Mal flashes him a thumbs up on her way back out the door.

“Hey,” Mal calls out, keeping her voice intentionally low. She’s got the hood of Carlos’s stolen hoodie pulled up over her hair, and she’s relying on the sight of a familiar size-shape-color-scheme to deter anyone from looking too closely at her. Not that there’s many students around the boy’s bathroom at 9pm on Valentine’s night, but still. She’s not exactly looking to get caught. “Jaybird?”

There’s no noise in the bathroom except for the irregular drip of a shower head that hasn’t been turned off quite hard enough. All the money in the world, and Auradon Prep still doesn’t have showers that actually work how they’re supposed to.

It’s ridiculous. If Mal were in charge of the school budget she’d be putting all the money into showers. A hot shower and a fireplace in every dorm, so that none of the students have to feel cold if they don’t want. That’s the budget priorities Mal would have. Warmth, and then food. The dining hall could stand to leave leftovers out longer after meals.

…princesses don’t think about food. She’s been around Evie long enough to know that one. Princesses are tiny and perfect without even trying. Princesses eat salad and fruit and don’t order fries with anything. Princesses are the sort of people the king is supposed to be dating, and Mal is never, ever going to become that sort of person.

“Mal?”

Mal does not jump. She just— startles. Just a little. “Hey.”

There’s a smile playing at the corner of Jay’s mouth. “Hey yourself. I thought you’d be out with Ben still.”

“You know price charming,” Mal waves a hand. “Had to have me home by midnight or else he was afraid I’d turn into a pumpkin.”

“It’s nine thirty.”

“Localized curse. The younger you are, the earlier it thinks you should be home. We picked nine, just to be safe.”

“You can just say you had a bad date, killer,” Jay says. “I’ll be your alibi. You need a shovel?”

Mal snorts. “It didn’t go that badly, give me some credit. I just freaked out when he started talking about love. While we were on a date to talk about love.”

Fuck.

A lot more of the evening makes sense when she frames it that way. None of the bullshit they’ve found online talks about dating the king of the entire country, but there’s a lot of website with mind-numbing names like psychology today and buzzbees news that make it very clear how important Auradon brats think nonverbal communication is.

She went on a date. On Valentine’s Day.

With Ben.

“…Killer?”

Focus.

“Fuck off.” Mal snaps reflexively. “I’m fine. Just. Plotting.”

Jay dodges around her for a pile of fabric, which reveals itself to be his Auradon-blue team hoodie. “You wanna plot somewhere a little better?”

“What I want is to go home, but I’m not going to get that,” Mal says thoughtfully. “I was going to ask you to spar with me, but if you’ve got any better ideas I’m open to hearing them.”

“Breaking and entering.” Jay says immediately. “We should blow this place. There’s that all-ages club in town—”

“If I have to touch another human being I’m going to scream.”

Jay touches her arm deliberately, a sustained pressure that doesn’t even read as touch, just comfort. Mal drinks it in like he’s pouring the comfort directly onto all the jagged, awful pieces of her soul. “I’m not a human being?”

“Shut up. You’re mine, it’s different.”

“You’re mine, then.”

There’s a piece of her heart that fits perfectly again the broken edges of his. Mal couldn’t let go of Jay if she tried, not for anything in the world. Not for her mother breathing fire at them, not for Fairy Godmother insisting that it’ll be good for them to make other friends, and not for a stupid holiday that says she’s only supposed to be tied to one person, and not even the one holding on to her right now.

“Sure.” Mal agrees, because she can’t put words to the enormity of feelings she’s experiencing. Villains don’t have feelings, but she’s reformed now, and it’s harder to describe the feelings with words than it is to have them. “We can sneak out, see what trouble we can find.”

“You’re all the trouble I need, killer.” Jay says, too honest. “I’ll take you out of here whenever you need. Wherever you want.”

“Sap.”

“Princess.”

“Do I look like a princess to you?” Mal leans back to gesture at herself. The sweatshirt she stole isn’t Auradon-blue like Jay’s. It’s an old one, ratty in the way that all their old isle stuff is, and nearly transparent at the elbows. The seams are held together with Evie’s neat machine stitching, but the thread is three different shades of red and grey all mashed together, and there’s a hole in the edge of the hood that’s exposing the soft inside of it. Her sneakers are a size too big, and laced tight to compensate. Her hair is still a mess from the violent undoing that she’d subjected it to, and she can’t be bothered to try and tame it, not when her chest is bursting with feelings that don’t have any place to go except for out of her body, in tears or screams or whatever violence she’s able to inflict that will drive the awful right feeling out.

“The prettiest princess in all the land,” Jay says, and jumps back before the words are even out of his mouth, out of the range of Mal’s swipe. “C’mon, killer. You’re the fiercest baby dragon I know. Come out with me. We can find trouble somewhere better than this.”

"You're trouble already," Mal grumbles, but there's no bite to the words. She wants, wholly and completely, to be somewhere else. "The gates are locked for the night, you know."

"No problem. Besides, you can just say you're on an important errand for the king and get through all the school security."

"I could," Mal agrees. It's not like she's afraid of a little misplaced power when she can wield it. "But it's more fun to sneak out."

Jay's grin is a bright flash in the darkness. "Hey, I've got a stupid idea."

Mal grunts. "Shoot."

"I could toss you over the fence."

"The twenty foot fence."

Jay shrugs. "It's more like twelve feet. At least according to the build specs."

"Which you came across..."

"Totally legally. They're in the library, if you know where to look for 'em."

"You're impossible," Mal sighs. "Okay, once you toss me how are we getting you over?"

"I'll jump."

Over the twelve foot fence. "Sure, and when you break your leg falling back down?"

"You'll magic me back together again. Humpty-dumpty this shit."

"I don't think you actually know that rhyme."

"I know your rhymes," Jay shoots back. "You've got magic for levitation in the spellbook, yeah?"

"I don't have the spellbook with me, wise guy." Mal points out. "I'm not even wearing my own shoes right now, what makes you think I memorized magic that'll get us over the fence?"

Jay's eyes are too bright. She's going to have to use a spell just to hide him, and the magic will burn her out, and they'll get stuck on the wrong side of the fence, and-- that's what she would think, if she were Jane, or someone will less awesome magic powers. She's Mal of the Isle, and she's got this shit under control.

"Dragon magic," Jay says cheerfully, like it's not late and they're not doing something totally against all of the rules they're supposed to be learning by sneaking out to the city. "I trust you, killer."

"I could kill you," Mal grumbles, but she raises her hands and lets the magic gather there, blue-green sparks catching on her fingertips as she pulls the spell out from her mind. "Make this boy as light as air, hop the fence without a care."

The magic falls over Jay in a net of shimmering sparks. They absorb in after a second, but the look suits him. Mal spares a thought for her sketchbook, which is tucked away in her locker with the rest of the books she hasn't had the time to touch in weeks, and the drawing her fingers are itching to make. "You can hop it now. You'll be light enough to jump over the fence with a regular leap."

"Sweet!" Jay turns and drops to a knee. "Hop on."

"Piggyback? Seriously?"

"No better way to hop it together. Unless you'd rather I throw you over."

It's dangerous, and not just physically. Mal's been doing a pretty fucking good job at squashing down the feelings she's not supposed to have for her best friends, but this...

She's emotionally illiterate, but Jay's offer to take her out tonight is like a picture book. Or one of those furniture instructions that doesn't even have language, just pictures to follow.

He cares about you, Mal's traitorous brain whispers. More than your boyfriend does.

Ugh.

"Don't do anything stupid," Mal says, even as she's the one climbing on. "The spell should be good for a few leaps, but--"

"Can't hear you, too busy blowing this place!" Jay grunts, pushing them both upright. "Let's fuckin' go--"

"Don't--"

"Hup!"

Well. At least they're on the other side of the fence now, even if they crashed directly into the school holly bush on the landing.

"Oww," Jay groans. "Might need a little more practice on that spell. I think there's something wrong with your magic assist on the landing."

Mal yanks a leaf out of her arm. "There is no magic assist, dumbass. I tried to tell you, but somebody decided to go full steam ahead without listening to my warning. We're over now, and that's what matters."

Jay mumbles something unintelligible. She can only assume it's rude, given the circumstances. Ugh, holly leaves are not the hot new accessory of the season, not even when they're doing a levitation act and sticking with a single thorn into her nose.

"Speak up or shut up, jaybird."

"I said--" It's impossible to tell in the darkness, but it looks like he might be blushing. The school grounds are supposed to have automatic lights, but a little wire cutting took care of that for them, and they're sneaking out under cover of darkness tonight. Mal's good at knowing her crew, but she can't be sure. "I, uh, you're important. To me."

"Don't get mushy on me."

"I'd never. Just. We're sneaking out together, and I wanted you to know, I'd never commit crimes and misdemeanors with anyone else."

"Liar."

Jay flashes her a smile, but he's doing the thing where he's got a hand tangled up in his hair, and it makes him look heart-wrenchingly sincere. "Yeah, but not to you."

Oh, gods. "Don't go having feelings on me," Mal says, swallowing down the wobble that wants to creep into her voice. "I can't handle it. Not tonight, please."

Just like that, Jay's posture melts into something different. Not quite his usual confidence, but something closer to normal. "Sure. No feelings. I can do that."

"I don't--" Mal scrubs a hand over her eyes. "I didn't mean that you can't have feelings, just. I can't be the one to handle them tonight. I'll do whatever you want tomorrow, just-- can we just go be somewhere else tonight? I can't handle all this lovey stuff."

Jay's shoulders melt even further. Mal can't look him in the eye, she can't, she won't--

He's smiling. His hand is so, so warm in hers. "Killer."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugs. "Whatever. You're allowed to have a bad night. I'll take you out, we can forget this ever happened tomorrow. Easy."

"You should have someone better," Mal cries, and the horrible realization that she's crying sets in. "I don't want feelings for you!"

"shit," Jay whispers, so quietly that Mal is sure she wasn't supposed to hear it at all. "Dragon, we don't have to do feelings like the Auradon brats. You can just be mine, and I can be yours, and we don't have to do any of the mushy shit that's freaking you out. We can just run away."

"Together."

"Yeah. Unless you spelled somebody else over the fence while I was distracted."

Mal wipes the sleeve of her stolen hoodie across her nose. "Ugh, no. I don't use magic for just anybody."

"See, there you go. I'm honored to be worthy of your magic, your royal evil-ness."

“Fuck off,” Mal groans, and then before she can lose her nerve she steps close enough to cup his face in her hands. There’s no magic this time, but Jay’s skin is hot and soft under her palms, and it feels like there should be magic between them. “I’m the worst girlfriend in the world, so I won’t ever put you through that. I’m selfish, and I’m flaky, and I can’t say that I love you, and I can’t ever promise that I’ll be able to say it.”

Jay’s face is a thundercloud. “Did Ben say you needed to say it back?”

“No, but— Ben’s not here right now. That’s the point. He’s not the person I run to when everything in the world is too much for me to handle. Ben’s sweet and all, but he’s not who I want to be with when I’m upset. Can you imagine what he’d say if I suggested running away from the grounds?”

“What ho good chap, let me summon a car to escort you from the venerable grounds of our fine institution,” Jay picks up her thread, mocking. “And yeah, I guess when you put it that way, it’s pretty silly to think about Ben taking care of you.”

Mal sucks in a breath. “Exactly. He’s sweet, but I don’t know how to deal with sweet, and it feels like the pressure of it is killing me. You know how to push back when I’m being a monster, and I don’t know how to fit that into one of the relationship boxes I’m supposed to use here.”

Jay tips his head into her hands. “We could make our own box.”

“We could.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to be my girlfriend.”

Mal leans in. “I know,” she tells the space between Jay’s parted lips. “I know.”

#my fic #descendants #descendants fic #mal bertha #Jay son of Jafar #carlos de vil #look I have a lot of feelings but they’re all tied up in the complicated nature of being a new student who’s terrified #of being sent back to the isle #and like. I WANT Jal to be cute together #but I think they have to wade through a lot of feelings before they can acknowledge each other and I love them #but they are soooo emotionally incompetent #anyway I am sorry this isn’t the cute Jalentines fic I was trying to write for today #but it’s written and it’s something!#and the name of the game today is writing all the ficlets #quantity not quality babey

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tw-inkl-e-tit-s · 1 year

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Vance Hopper Masterlist

"Are you ready for some fun!" Gwen yelled jumping up and down. I laughed at her, "yeah I am let's gooo!" I yelled back matching her energy. "Hey, Y/n," Robin and Finn said. "Hey, guys." We all walked down from my porch and started our walk to the drive-in. "Do you guys wanna get some snacks before we go?" Finn asked. "Do even have to ask that dude," Robin said causing us all to laugh. We walked to the local grab n' go. Talking the whole time about random things. "I hope they have Twix because they didn't have them last time." Gwen spoke up opening the door to the shop. "the delivery truck was here yesterday day so they should have them." Finney replied walking in after Robin. We all went our separate ways. I walked over to the freezer section to grab a coke.

As I was scanning the freezers I heard a loud bang and a string of cusswords let out beside me. I smiled already knowing who it was, I looked up to see him putting another courter in the machine. I would go over and say something to him, but everyone knows not to mess with Vance Hopper, especially when he's playing pinball. "Stop staring it's creepy." Robin laughed coming up behind me, "I wasn't staring, shut up." I rolled my eyes grabbing a coke out of the freezer beside me. "I don't know what you see in him," he cringed walking away to the chip Isle.

"Hey, that's not very nice Robin." I said running after him, he laughed grabbing a bag of barbecue chips, "I didn't mean for it to sound that mean," I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I turned to see Wesley smiling at me. "Hey Wes," I said smiling back, "Hello y/n I-I Was wondering if you would like to go out S-sometime?" He stuttered out, pushing up his glasses. I didn't know what to say, I would say no but I would feel bad, and if I say yes then- Wait does he mean on a date? "Um Hello y/n?" He said drawing out my name at the end, "Oh Sorry Wes, Are you asking me out on a date?" He shuffled awkwardly in his spot, gripping his backpack tighter.

"Well if you would like to go on a date with me… then yes." before I could respond to him Gwen yelled after me, "Y/n stop talking to your boyfriend, and let's gooo!" All people including Vance snapped their necks in my and Wesley's direction, I grabbed a couple more things and walked to the checkout. "So is that a yes or no on the date?" Wesley asked me "Sure we can go out." He smiled big "Does tomorrow sound good?" I Grabbed my stuff off of the counter and shot a quick glance at Vance who was already staring back at me. "Uh- I can't tomorrow, I'm kinda busy with something," Vance turned back towards his game popping another quarter in, I swear I saw him smile a little. "Oh okay will Saturday be fine?" I smiled and nodded my head. "Bye Wesley," I said walking out the door, "Bye y/n." He said dreamily."Bye Y/n," Robin mocked in a girly voice, batting his eyelashes.

"Stop ugh" I laughed. "I thought you liked Vance" Gwen spoke hitting my shoulder, "I do, but the chances of Vance liking me back are slim to none." Gwen sighed shaking her head, "You just need to write him a Love letter Anonymously, That way he knows how you feel." She smiled, "But he wouldn't know she wrote the letter," Finney replied. "That's the point." Me Gwen and robin all said at the same time. Finney threw his hands up in defeat, "Okay, My bad…Geez." Should I write a note to Vance, Does he even feel the same way? "I'll think about it," I informed "What about Wesley?" Robin asked, "He's just using me to get to my friend sage, I heard him talking to his friends in the hallway the other day, too bad sage doesn't like him back." I smirked walking up to the drive-in ticket booth, "Damnnn!" Robin and fin yelled causing me and Gwen to giggle. We paid for our tickets and found a spot close to the screen. We would have snuck in here but if we got caught Finney and Gwen's dad would be pissed.

♡♡♡

"Look all I'm saying is Dr pepper is the best soda to ever exist" Robin Said, "Yeah no dude, Pepsi cola is the best soda end of discussion," Finney argued back. Somehow on the way back to our houses we ended up arguing about which soda is better, Finney and Robin took it a little too seriously. "I swear to god-" Robin got cut off by Gwen jumping up and down and running towards the neighborhood playground. "Y/n push me!" She yelled running and sitting on the rusted swingset. "Last one to the monkey bars momma suck di-" "My mom is dead Robin." Finney deadpanned. "Right, There are a lot of attractive men in heaven," Robin said before speed-running to the monkey bars, Finney right behind him.

We ended up going to Bruster's shake shack and getting dinner and walking to Robin's house, we played a few games and joked around, we even prank-called the neighbors. Unfortunately, I had to get home before it got too late. we all said our goodbyes and walked our separate ways, luckily we all lived on the same street. I locked my front door and walked up to my room, I changed and got in bed and my cat curled up beside me and I fell asleep with Vance on my mind.

Tag list: @vancehopperenthusiast @vancehoppergirl @bradyhepner

@masonthameslvr @theblackphone-incorrectquotes @theblackphonesposts @deadghosy @finneysbaseball @brokenphonewires @luckypinballmachine

#vance hopper x reader #pinball vance hopper #vance hopper x fem!reader #pinball vance #vance the black phone #vance x reader #tbp vance #⊱ ⤻☁💌Love Letters ‧₊˚ : ♡

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gdbatbitch · 8 months

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Surgery happened on Tuesday! So my thyroid is now gone, along with some suspicious looking lymph nodes. The surgeon, Dr Lawrence Shirley at Baptist Health, was wonderful and has genuine concern for my progress. He told me that what was removed will be examined/tested by a pathologist to see if there may be any other issues, but hopefully this will be all I need to start healing. Hopefully. I'm not saying anything for certain.

The surgery itself was pretty easy on me. The only other time I've had major surgery like this was almost 24 years ago, when my twin daughters were born. That was a much different experience, but I have strong memories of the hospital staff at University of Kentucky hospital, and most of those memories are not positive. I'll just leave it at that. Baptist has been great so far. Everyone I've interacted with has been kind and made me feel like I was being genuinely cared for. Especially the nurse I was assigned Wednesday morning, Cody. He and I had a few conversations about the economy and comic books and movies, and that really helped me stay positive even though I was in pain.

I am still in a lot of pain. Swallowing hurts, as well as turning my head, leaning, bending over, or sitting up in bed. I tried a couple of times this morning before just rolling myself over to the side so I had more leverage to stand. I also apparently talked way too much yesterday because by the end of the day, my voice was all hoarse and that was causing pain as well. So I think today is going to be a quieter day.

I'm also going to be able to take off the bandage on my incision today and see how that goes. I'm kind of dreading that, even though I am curious to see what it looks like. I'm not afraid of having a scar, I have several as it is. It's just I have this weird fear of the incision opening up on its own. That comes from when I was recovering from the C-section and a staple that was holding the incision closed popped. It didn't really cause any problems, but I had nightmares that my guts could just fall out at any moment. Logically I know that's not going to happen, but the gremlins that control my anxiety levels are having a blast making me paranoid.

At this point, I'm at just around a third of the way toward my goal. I've already had to use what I've raised so far to keep the bills paid and pay for part of the surgery. The hospital has put me on an installment plan that will have me paying about $300 a month for 18 months. That is so far outside my budget, so I'm going to be pushing this fundraiser more, and I'd really love it if those of you that have already donated to share this page and encourage your friends to do the same. The more eyes we get on this, the better.

Right now my bank account is looking sad and since I'm missing time from work, my next paycheck is going to be just a little over half of what I usually bring home. It's only the 19th now, but I'm already nervous about being able to make November's rent. And I know things are tight for everyone, so even the smallest donations can make a big difference to me. A $5 donation is just as good as a $500 donation, and I'm grateful for all of them.

I'm grateful for all of you, for all you've done for me, whether it's a donation or words of support or a phone call, all of it. I usually feel like I'm taking on the world all by my lonesome, but I do feel very much supported and cared for thanks to all of you.

Please enjoy my post-op selfie and the grippy socks I absolutely took home with me. I'm wearing them now and I love them. I'm going to be doing nothing but resting today, since I overdid a little yesterday. Later taters.

#surgery #thyroid cancer #fuck cancer #grippy socks #gofundme #fundraiser #help please #reblog the shit out of this

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themultifandomgal · 1 year

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Tommy Shelby- Didn’t Have To Learn To Love Pt1

I've been watching way to much Call the Midwife and one of the episodes inspired this imagine.

Pt2

Marriage. A union between two families. Usually because of love. Not for me though. I married because I got pregnant

"How are you feeling love?" Polly asks walking into the room

"Fine. Would be better if Tommy could even look at me. For fuck sake I wasn't the only one to get us in this position. He didn't have to marry me"

"You know he did. Now..." before Polly continues there's a knock on the door "I'll get it. You put your feet up" Polly walks over to the front of the house "hello? can I help you?"

"Hello. I'm Alice I'm YNs midwife" hearing this makes me get up knowing that Polly will push the midwife away

"Midwife? no you must have the wrong YN and address. I will be..."

"Polly let the poor woman in would you. She'll catch herself a cold stood out in this rain"

"You can't be serious YN, your having a midwife to come. You've got me and Esme to help"

"Polly I love you and Esme. I really do. But I want a midwife to deliver the baby, just in case anything goes wrong"

"Please your daughter needs to rest and stay calm"

"She's actually my husband's aunt" I chuckle waddling over to the sofa

"Polly would you make us all a cup of tea?" I ask. Polly scowls but makes her way to the kitchen "sorry about her. Most ladies have a overbearing mother in-law, me? It's a crazy aunt in-law" I laugh but feel a twinge

"You ok?" Alice asks

"Yeah just a little pain"

"Have you been having these a lot?"

"They started yesterday, but Polly said that it's my body getting ready for the birth"

"And she's right, but how about we check what baby is up to?" I lay down on the sofa letting the midwife check me over as Polly comes in with a Pot of tea and some cups.

She checks my blood pressure, the heartbeat and where the baby is positioned "everything's in order Mrs Shelby and dare I say baby will be here in a day or two"

"I guess I will be staying over then" Polly smiles

"Yay" the door opens again and closed

"Pol? YN?"

"In here Tom" I call out. Tommy walks into the living room wearing a suit, looking so good might I add "Alice, this is my husband Thomas. Tommy. Tom this is my midwife Alice"

"It's nice to meet you Tommy"

"Yeah. I'm going to my office" I give him a weak smile, but Alice seems to notice

"Polly could I trouble you for some biscuits?" Alice asks and again Polly walks out, this time muttering something to herself "Mrs Shelby, is everything ok with you and Mr Shelby?"

"Oh yeah don't worry"

"Are you sure? because baby needs a steady safe environment"

"Of course. Tommy and I didn't fall in love, get married then have a baby. When we met I wasn't like I am now, the war messed us up and we found comfort in one another. We were friends, then an accident happened between us and here we are. No love, but we make do" Polly walks back into the room and places a plate of biscuits in front of me "thank you Polly"

"Ok I just need to check the home if that's ok. To make sure it's ready for a home birth"

"That's fine. Mary?" I call out and immediately Mary pops her head through the door "would you take Alice around the house for her checks"

"Of course Mrs Shelby"

"Are you coming back to bed or are you doing to pace a hole in the floor" Tommy asks not even looking at me as I walk back and forth

"Sorry, can't sleep. I've had this pain all day and it's just getting worse"

"Come back to bed and..." I then feel wet down my legs

"Tommy phone the midwife" I tell him while pain shoots all throughout my stomach. Tommy quickly leaves the bedroom and downstairs to his office where the phone is. He also wakes Polly up in the process who comes into the bedroom

"Ok lets get you on the bed YN and I'll check..."

"Sorry Polly but I want to wait for the midwife"

"Midwife" she scoffs "never used to have such things"

"I know but please Polly, it's not that new of a concept. They've been around for near 30 years now. They're trained they know stuff you might not"

"Midwife will be here in 10 minutes. What can I do Polly?"

"You can leave the room and wait got the midwife to arrive downstairs" Polly pushes Tommy out of the room

20 minutes later I have my knees up and I'm pushing

"I can't do this" I cry feeling tired and weak

"You can YN, because once you have the baby in your arms this will all be worth it" Polly takes my hand in hers and gives it a squeeze

"Ok YN I can see the head. Your next contraction your going to push as hard as you can ok?"

"You can do this YN" I nod my head pushing when the pain hits me

"That is heads out. Now just one more little push then your done" I push once more then the cries of my newborn fill the room

"Congratulations Mrs Shelby, you have a healthy baby boy"

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders reader

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starryeyedadmirer · 1 year

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Noah Centineo: Baby Fat

-Noah x Reader-

!!CW!! — Body image TW

Synopsis (There’s not much to this one): You’re at the gym with Noah, as a kind of moral support — helping him work off the spare tire that he’s put on since giving birth to his son. Though you’ve grown quite bored of seeing him get down on himself, and constantly feel as though he’s got to change, you provide him with a few words of encouragement… in your own, not so sweet way.

Words: 1,000

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"Woo! Fuck." Noah groans, taking another kick at the freestanding punching bag that's propped up in front of him. "I forgot how hard this was, man! How could I do this so easy before? I haven't lifted my legs this high since... since..."

"Since the nurses put 'em up in those stirrups, right?" You interrupt — watching from your seat, as he gives the bag another pathetic kick.

"Yeah... I think so."

"Man, I remember that shit like it was yesterday. Aiden's birth. Your feet were almost to the ceiling by the time they let me in the room. They had 'em jacked up so fucking high! You were miserable." You can hardly contain your laughter as the memory of Noah in his hospital bed flashes back into your mind.

He was laid back on the mattress, like a big starfish, with his feet dangling in the air, and a dozen nurses working on him. It was like he was some sort of alien, with all of the weird-looking machines, the bright lights shining on his crotch, the folks in blue scrubs, and the way that they were monitoring him... the atmosphere and urgency in the room, didn't give you any impression that he had gone into a normal, human labor at all. It seemed that he was giving birth to some bizarre creature... something out of this world. His face and neck were both as red as a clown's nose, and his hair was a scraggly mess. You could tell that he hadn't had a proper chance to groom himself before his water broke... it was more than evident, and not just by his looks. There was a strong, familiar musk persisting in the air... the stench of Noah's natural body odor... and another, odd scent, that you couldn't quite place at the time — something sour, and metallic. As if his looks weren't offensive enough, he was screaming at everyone like a crazed lunatic — demanding that someone go get him something cold to drink... but, rightfully so, none of his nurses did as he said. It was hysterical, watching him yell that way, to no response from anyone else. You couldn't laugh at him back then... he probably would've killed you if you had... but now that it's been a few months, you can finally let loose.

"Yeah, I was." He takes another kick, this time lowering his leg a bit. "I'm telling you, those labor pains were no joke, man. Aiden's head was so big, I thought I was gonna tear open."

"Looked like you were too. Ya know, I managed to get a peak at you while you were yelling, and... um... it wasn't pretty. Felt like I was staring at a big ass, busted banana, and a jelly filled donut... one that'd gushed open, and gotten all messy. It was... quite the sight!"

"Well, hey, laugh all you want, but those few hours of discomfort and pain were worth it. I love coming home and seeing his little face, smiling up at me like I'm the most important thing in the world. There's nothing like it, man. You'll learn someday."

"No. No I won't. And anyway, it ain't been that long since you popped him out, Noah. This should be a piece of cake. I know for a fact that childbirth was a lot harder than kicking a punching bag on a stand."

"You would think so, huh? You don't know half the story... you only saw Aiden's birth. I was bedridden for four weeks, after spending 17 long hours trying to squeeze him out of my ass. Even after that, I could barely walk for a month, my ass was sore for ages, and my dick couldn't get hard if it tried... not to mention all the weight I've put on. My legs are weaker than they've ever been in my life, man... and I can only kick so high with this gut weighing me down." He gives the bag one last go, mustering up all the strength that he can, and falls to his knees — visibly in pain. "I'm disgusting, fat, and fucking weak, man... just look at me."

"No you're not, Noah." You get up from your seat and place your hand on his shoulder, unmoved by his plight. "You're not disgusting at all, you're just having that... um... postpartum stuff."

You wish you could feel bad for him, that you could give him the level of sympathy and understanding that someone in his situation deserves, but it's hard. He's been crying the same tears for weeks now, whining about being out of shape and shaming himself at every opportunity. You've heard him call himself so many disparaging names... tell himself that he's repulsive and disgusting more times than you can count... and although you know that it stems from something deeper... something that's not so superficial... you're tired of hearing it.

"Carrying a little extra weight after having a baby is normal, Noah. You birthed an entire person, man... think you should cut yourself some slack?"

"Yeah... I guess so." He gets back up on his feet, leaning on you for support. He's heavy on your side, feeling every bit as hefty as he looks... a warm, comforting feeling... aside from all of the sweat. "Like I said, I haven't really been able to... do this. Don't know how I could've worked this thing off without coming back to the gym."

"There you go, man. And anyway, it doesn't look bad on you. Ya know, I always thought you'd look better with a little pot belly, and God, did you look good pregnant." You give his belly a rub, soft and tender like you've always wanted, and slap him on the ass. He's drenched in sweat — a good sign. That weight will be off before he knows it... then he can finally stop complaining. "Now c'mon, you've got some more kicking to do... burn off that extra weight you hate so much."

_________________________________

Thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️!!!

#starry eyes #noah centineo #noah centineo belly/tummy #mpreg fic #noah centineo mpreg #mpreg celeb

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missbabyjay · 1 year

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New Beginnings - Bill Hader x f Reader

Part 2

Warnings - alcohol, language, fluff

Word Count: 2.6 k

I want to take things slow with this story. Again, HE IS NOT MARRIED IN THIS DIMENSION LMAO

Part 1

MASTERLIST

. . .

You woke up to the mind-numbing sound of your alarm clock. You quickly turned to your side to hit the "OFF" button, rubbed your eyes, and continued to lay in bed - enjoying the silence while you could. You stared at the red, bold, electric numbers that read "7:00 a.m". You continued laying there... dreading to get up until your morning grog began to fade and you remembered the night you had before.

Suddenly you got butterflies in your stomach and felt excitement that you had not felt in many years. The adrenaline that rushed through your body as you remembered spending time with Bill last night was enough energy for you to pull yourself out of bed and prepare for the long awaited Tuesday at the studio.

You knew today was going to be an extremely long day but instead of looking at it in a stressful manner, you were excited to spend hours on end with Bill. He made you feel giddy like a teenager again. He made you feel as though love wasn't an unnerving thing anymore. But you had to snap yourself out of a daydream - this was only your second day working at SNL and you didn't want the quick feelings of lust to get in the way of your success and professionalism.

. . .

You quickly showered, made your coffee, packed your book bag and made your way to the studio. Unlike yesterday, when you were met with the chaos after exiting the elevator, you didn't feel the same. Sure, you were still slightly overwhelmed but you knew where to head. You made your way to John's office and lightly knocked before opening the door. As you walk in John and Bill were sitting beside each other messing around while filling the room with laughter.

When they noticed you had entered the room they both lit up even more, "Y/N!" Bill exclaimed with a wide smile shining across his face. He quickly got up and did a little jog over to you followed by a big, warm embrace. Oh my god. You really felt like you belonged with these two which made this job even more unimaginable. John gave you a playful look after Bill set you down, "Well hello there Y/N, excited for your first day of writing?".

The three of you worked together throughout the day, picking away at details in the sketch while making sure you explored any possible joke for the piece. Stefon had already be on air a handful of times so the story line was quite developed before you joined. The three of you decided that this episode would be Valentines Day related as the 14th of February was coming up on Monday.

You managed to come up with a bit where Bill would do an impression of a coked up gremlin. You weren't sure where it really came from; maybe it was from watching Pulp Fiction recently? Bill and John absolutely loved it though, and you finally became comfortable with the writing process at SNL.

The day lasted as long as you had expected. You were introduced to Fred when he popped in and offered to pick up dinner for the three of you. You finalized the writing and headed home for the night. Bill pulled you to the side just before you left the office, "Y/N, would you uh- mind maybe giving me your uh- number? Just in case, ya know?" he said in a nervous tone while rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, of course." you gave bill a gentle smile while you took his phone and entered your number. He sent you a text to make sure everything was right,

bill: this is william! ;)

You giggled and said goodbye to Bill. On your way home you received yet another text from him,

bill: it was really awesome working with you today. I can't wait for rehearsals. I have some anxiety when it comes to being on live TV so i'm hoping you being there will help ;)

Yet again you got goosebumps across your whole body. This man had a fucking hold on you like no other person. You were trying so hard to not let this interfere with work, but you were unsure of how long you could hold you feelings back. And little did you know, Bill felt the same way.

. . .

Saturday night quickly crept up behind you and sooner than later you were prepping for your first live show. The anxiety that had left you throughout the week reappeared in your mind; slowly picking away at your every thought. You couldn't comprehend how the actors were feeling in that moment; being on live TV seemed terrifying to you and you just hoped no one would ever pitch the idea of you taking part in a sketch. Sweat was beginning to accumulate on your temple, and your eyes darted around the room. You were hopeful for the Stefon appearance tonight - you, Bill and John seemed really confident that it would get a good laugh from the crowd.

As you watched the crew assemble the opening set you caught Bill walking up to you out of the corner of your eye, "Well hey there Hader! Excited?" you said as you glanced at him with a cheerful look. But to your surprise you could tell Bill was not in his usual state. His eyes shone a worried look and his face showed he was in distress.

"Y/N, I'm freaking out. I thought I was going to have my anxiety under control tonight but I'm so nervous. I mean... you're watching, and I feel so much pressure when I do Stefon, and I've just got a lot on my mind tonight-", Bill kept rambling on when you stopped him, "Bill, why are you nervous that i'm here?", quickly Bills worried look turned into a flustered look as his cheeks became rosy, "I-uh, I just want to make sure I do a good job in front of you, ya know? and make sure I tell the awesome jokes you wrote the best I can.."

You reached up and softly touched Bills shoulder, "don't worry Hader, you're going to do great and I'm going to be right here cheering you on". The tenseness in Bills body relaxed and he took a deep breath, "Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate you" he said and leaned in to give you a loving hug.

Keep your shit together Y/N. Keep your cool!

. . .

You proudly watched Bill while you stood with John. You could hear John almost deviously laughing as you glanced over to him; he was changing the upcoming cue card spontaneously, "John? What the hell are you doing?" You said with concern, as you knew Bill was already feeling anxious. John let you know that sometimes he would change the cue cards last minute to make Hader break. And to your amazement Bill broke in the most perfect way; the crowd fell into a fit of laughter.

As soon as Bill was finished on stage he ran right to you and engulfed you in his arms, "Seeing you laugh throughout the sketch made me get through it" he whispered into your ear. At first you body stiffened, but when you heard those words come out of Bill's mouth you felt your body melt and you became comfortable in his arms. You tightened your grip around bills waist, "I am so glad, Hader". The two of you stood like that until you noticed the crew were giving you looks, so Bill went on his way to get out of costume.

I literally cannot hold back these feelings anymore. I would be crazy to not tell him how I feel. That hug? What he said? There's no way he doesn't feel the same... Valentine's day is coming up, would it be too corny for me to tell him?

. . .

As the ending credits were rolling, you watched the cast wave goodbye on the stage. In the past few days you had managed to make friends with more of the cast. Someone you had an instant connection with was Kristen. She approached you right after the end of the show, "So we're all going out to the bar afterwards," but she was cut off by Bill and John walking up to the two of you. "Well I guess you two can be invited tonight also; we're all gonna go out for some drinks at that one bar around the corner."

You noticed John nudged Bill and the two of them look at each other for a second, "Yeah i'll join!" said John, "I think i'm going to pass tonight, just feeling a bit tired", Bill followed with. You were disappointed but you couldn't show your feelings. You said goodbye to Bill and made your way out of the building with Kristen.

What does that mean?

. . .

The bar was far nicer than any bar you had gone to before, even the ones you had performed stand up in. You were excited to spend some time with the team outside of the studio. Things were always so overwhelming and time crunched at work that it truly didn't allow you to get to know each other better. Kristen proceeded to order the group a round of shots and you ordered your favourite drink.

You were genuinely looking forward to celebrating tonight; you were surrounded by people who wanted the same thing out of life as yourself, people who were loving, people who were supportive. "You've already been such a great addition to the team, Y/N!" exclaimed Kristen, "Cheers!". The group of you took your shots and you began to celebrate the night.

After a possible few to many drinks, you checked your phone; the clock read "2:43 am". Oh my god, how is it so late already? You looked around the table at your team members... John was chatting with Fred and Seth about something that happened backstage earlier, while Kristen, Andy and Keanan had their own conversation going as well. You had your head propped on your hand as you leaned on the table. The bar was still surprisingly loud for the time it was. You were unsure of whether or not you wanted to stay.

When suddenly an idea popped into your head. Maybe not a great idea, but it was something your drunken mind was wanting to do; you took out your phone and pulled up Bill's contact...

Y/N: hey hader, I don't know if you're up still but could you come grab me from the bar?

You sat nervously waiting for his response. In the meantime you got your bill and paid for your drinks. Kristen noticed you gathering your things, "You heading out soon hun?" You smiled at her, "Yeah, i'm pretty tired and I want to take advantage of the day off tomorrow". You gave a few of your castmates a hug goodbye and made your way to the exit.

As you were nearing the door you felt a vibration in your pocket. When you pulled out your phone you saw that Bill was calling you,

"Y/N, where are you at right now? Are you ok?"

You could tell he was concerned.

"Everything is fine Bill, I was just hoping you could maybe pick me up from the bar? I don't want to walk home and I didn't really get the chance to talk to you after the show today. I know it's late and this might be really stupid but oh well! I am already on the phone with you.."

There was a nervousness to your voice, but you didn't hold back.

"I'll be there in 15"

. . .

You waited anxiously outside. You didn't want to go back into the bar, fearing that everyone would be confused as to why you were coming back. All of a sudden you saw a car pull up; the passenger window rolled down and you were met with Bill's handsome face, "C'mon get in! You look freezing!". He was right - the rigid temperature of the New York winter was slicing against your skin. You were looking forward to the warmth of Bill's car, and his presence.

The second you sat down in Bill's car the words starting rushing out of your mouth, "Bill, I like you. I like you more than friends. I know we barely know each other but I feel so connected to you already. And the hug you gave me after you got off stage just felt so right. I know you probably think i'm crazy but I had to get this off my chest," you said switching between looking forward and looking at him.

Bill sat there in shock without saying anything, which made you worried about being so honest with him. Finally he snapped out of his daze, "I- I like you too, Y/N. Right from the moment I met you. The way your eyes sparkle, the way you laugh at every joke I make even if it sounds stupid. You are everything I could ask for."

You leaned in to kiss Bill and as your lips connected you felt you world explode. His hands slowly made their way to your face, gently cupping your cheeks while tracing patterns. The both of you soaked in the moment. Bill pulled away keeping his one had on your face, "Would you like me to drop you off at home? Or would you maybe want to come stay at mine?"

You had to think for a second, but at this point you just wanted to be wrapped in his arms underneath a warm blanket, "I'd love to come stay at yours".

The two of you made your way to Bills. He kept his arm wrapped around you as you made your way to his apartment door. You sat down your book bag as you entered, already feeling comfortable. "Make yourself at home." Bill said to you with a warm smile, "Follow me". He lead you to his bedroom where he grabbed a t-shirt of his as well as some sweatpants.

You sat on the bed rubbing your temples; the alcohol was beginning to catch up to you and you felt a migraine coming on. Bill noticed, "Let me grab you some water and some advil. Here, put these on and get comfortable in bed." He left the room and came back a few minutes later with a cup of cold water and some advil.

Bill's heart fluttered when he saw you bundled up in his clothes, sat on his bed with your knees pulled to your chest. She's so beautiful. He knew from the second that you called him earlier that something would happen tonight. He wasn't quite sure what, but he was so thankful his phone woke him up. His love was already growing for you and he was glad he could take care of you.

You took the advil and drank some water while Bill undressed himself and got comfortable. He turned the TV on and crawled into bed next to you. He extended his arm towards you - motioning for you to cuddle into him. And there you were, laying in Bill Hader's arms. You could hear his heartbeat and feel his warmth, "Thanks Hader" you said as you kissed him on the cheek. Before you could say anything else your body became heavy and you quickly drifted off to sleep.

Bill looked down to see you gracefully asleep on his chest. He smiled and placed a kiss on the top of your head. He continued to watch TV until he drifted off to sleep as well.

#bill hader #bill hader fanfic #bill hader imagine #bill hader one shot #bill hader x reader #bill hader fic #bill hader snl #i love bill hader #bill hader is a top

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pico-digital-studios · 1 month

Text

Into, Across and Beyond! Scripting: The Help We Need

In More than One Universe, in the wake of OMT!Sally's death, OMT!Tails's five remaining allies were getting worried for him.

OMT!Mina: *sigh* I'm gonna set off the device.

OMT!Amy: Huh? But why are-?

OMT!Mina: I know he told us to wait, but... I'm starting to get worried.

OMT!Knuckles: Urgh. I just wish I could see him again!

Knuckles moved his arm up, which caused a portal to slightly flicker before vanishing.

OMT!Cream: Huh? Was that another portal?

Mini Sonic: Try that again.

OMT!Knuckles: Alright. I just wish I could see him!

He did it again, and the portal got slightly bigger before vanishing again.

OMT!Knuckles: Okay, I've got it. I want to see Tails!

The portal opened fully this time, showing Tails in a daytime variant of Green Hill.

OMT!Amy: Is that him?

OMT!Mina: Did it work…? I think that’s him… I-It has to be!

Two other hedgehogs were visible as well.

OMT!Knuckles: Tails! Over here!

OMT!Amy: Come on, Tails!

??!Tails: Huh? Guys, are you seeing this?

The other Tails jumped through the portal to greet those on the other side.

??!Tails: Are you all okay?

One of Dr. Robotnik’s robots nearby reacted hysterically.

Metal Sonic Clone: Oh no... Oh no! Multiversal trespasser is here! Run! Run! Run! Run!

??!Tails: Woah woah! Calm down! I don't mean any harm! *sigh* Okay. (calling through the portal) Guys! We're all good!

OMT!Mina: W-Wait…

??!Tails: Huh?

OMT!Mina: You’re… not from this world… Are you?

??!Tails: You're right. I'm the Tails from my world. Though yesterday, some strange portals popped up, and the source of them seemed to be… here.

OMT!Mina: Okay, so… there’s your Sonic there, and… who’s the yellow one?

??!Tails: Oh, his name is Nitro. A friend of ours. (through the portal) Right, we're ready, guys!

??!Sonic: On the way, buddy!

OMT!Knuckles: This must be because of that device.

OMT!Mina: It must be.

EV!Sonic and Nitro came through themselves.

OMT!Mina: So... even MORE worlds, huh?

Nitro: Yep.

EV!Sonic: To be fair with you, I feel we're here for a reason.

Mina: What is it?

EV!Tails: Whatever caused all the damage it did and wherever your Tails is at… I feel we need to help in some way.

OMT!Mina: C-Can you… help us find him?

Nitro: It's best if we do. Even after that, we're staying to help you fix whatever problem's hit this world.

EV!Tails: Maybe try what you did to get us here. It may help us reach him.

OMT!Amy: Knuckles, you’re the one with the ray.

OMT!Knuckles: Alright.

Knuckles fired it again, creating another portal. It wasn't the exact area they were looking for, but another similar Sonic world. An older Sonic came through, alongside a younger blue hedgehog.

EV!Sonic: Ooh, boy. Another version of me.

??!Sonic: Hello? I hope it's okay. Me and Sonia just came through this...

The portal disappeared behind them.

??!Sonic: Oh. It just closed.

OMT!Mina: Another Sonic, huh?

??!Sonic: Yeah. I'm... Sonic the Hedgehog. I... I saw you guys…

EV!Sonic stepped forward.

??!Sonic: Wait, he's... he's not your friend.

Sonia, CU!Sonic's daughter, quietly stepped out of the way. The two Sonics exchanged glances for a moment, and then blows against one another.

EV!Sonic: Woah, I…

OMT!Amy: You're a hero, too. Why didn't you simply say that?

CU!Sonic: At the moment, I don't generally go around advertising my heroic roles.

OMT!Mina: That’s understandable.

As EV!Sonic got to cleaning up a small mess accidentally caused by the small clash, CU!Sonic spoke up.

CU!Sonic: Erm, this may sound kinda weird, but… I’ve been trying to find your Tails since I got here. I just have this feeling that… that he needs my help.

CU!Sonia: Our help.

OMT!Mina: He… He does.

Mini Sonic: We don’t know where he is.

OMT!Amy: And, in all honesty... we're the only people he has left by his side.

Nitro: Well… is there some place he might go… which has meaning to him? Like a place where he’d go to just…

CU!Sonic: …get away from everything? From what I remember… It was at the top of one of Central City’s skyscrapers, close to the office tower.

OMT!Mina: Y-Yeah. I… I think I know exactly where that would be.

After OMT!Tails had gotten back from the Mobiverse, he sat on that rooftop on his own, holding Sally’s jacket as the only remaining memoir of her. OMT!Mina and Mini Sonic, as the first to get up there, hugged him.

OMT!Tails: T-Thanks, guys…

OMT!Mina: There’s someone who wants to see you.

Tails noticed the others, not only his friends, but those from other worlds.

OMT!Tails: Woah, w-what?

And it happened that EV!Sonic and Nitro brought extra company with them from other worlds in their universe.

Nitro: Tails… we're sorry about what happened.

CU!Sonic: He's right. I know you have some understanding you want us to-

OMT!Tails: N-No… Please don't tell me you know what I'm going through…

EV!Sonic: Y-Yeah, we do.

OMT!Tails: S-Sally's gone… and it's all my fault. I didn't save her in time. I'm… not even fit to be a hero. I'm gonna do what I should've done from the start.

Nitro: Tails, no. It's not right.

OMT!Tails: None of you apart from my friends here actually belong here. I'm gonna send you back home. You're still heroes of your own worlds, aren't you? So just stay out of this. This isn't even your fight, or mine anymore. I'm sorry you all got dragged into this… Goodbye…

OMT!Tails tried to start up another device to send them home, but was stopped as Nitro put his hand on his shoulder.

Nitro: Long ago... I lost most of my family and assumed they were all dead. Back then, I wanted the guy behind it all to suffer in pain for what he did, and it took me five months to understand he had suffered too. I don’t want you to fall down the same path, Tails.

Tails lowered his head in response as CU!Sonic also approached.

CU!Sonic: I can relate to what he just said. I lost Amy a while back when we had Sonia as a daughter. She was my Mina… It took me a while to move on from then and cope as a single father. Ever since, I kept trying to be the carefree hero she saw me as, but it became tough as time went on. Sonia was all I had left to call family. You shouldn’t experience that same darkness.

He sighed for a moment, venting out his anger towards Richard.

Tails: I just wanna kill him... tear him apart… make him suffer and beg for what he did to Sally! I... I can still hear it all in my mind… *sobbing* Even in her last breath, S-Sally didn't want me to give up… She said to…

Tails and Asriel (in unison, unknowingly): …to “enjoy the future for her”.

Tails: Huh?

Asriel: Yeah. A certain skeleton told me that before… something happened.

Chara: ...Maybe her death wasn't for nothing, Tails. Maybe she gave what she had so that you could fight on.

Asriel: Our arrival was clearly for a reason, and we’re ready to help you with everything we’ve got.

OMT!Tails: You… You're really sure you can help put this all right?

OMT!Mina: We’ll have your back through it all, Tails… I promise.

OMT!Tails: T-Thank you… all of you.

The Errorverse counterpart of Sally stepped forward, gently hugging Tails.

EV!Sally: For the time that I and the others are here, I’ll help look after you as much as I can, okay?

OMT!Tails: O-Okay.

He hugged her back, feeling a little bit better since he still had a Sally to be around for now.

Grace: So, considering what's happening, is there any place we can use as a base to help put things right?

OMT!Tails: Y-Yeah. Another counterpart of myself and a friend I made before already went ahead there. I'll show you the way if you'd like.

He got back up, putting Sally's jacket on as a memoir.

EV!Sonic: So should we get moving?

Frisk: Yeah, good call.

OMT!Tails: Alright. Follow me!

They headed out, though Nitro, Lilac, Frisk and Benjamin hanged back for a moment, taking note of the changes to the evening sky.

Frisk: You think there's going to be more people coming here than we'd once expect?

Lilac: I imagine so. Hopefully a lot of them are on the good side of things.

Benjamin: Yeah. And NOT too many of those that were confined to endless torture.

Nitro: Yeah... God, I hate those alternate timelines.

Lilac: We should get moving.

Frisk: Right!

Benjamin: Right!

They headed off.

Comic covers for the Errorverse AND ChaosIIUniverse/Next Dimension came down onto the growing pile to introduce our next two Blur Gang stars.

"Well, you probably know the drill by this point, so let's do it one last time. Or... is it the SECOND last time? Eh, never mind."

A shot of Nitro trying his shoes on for the first time is shown.

"My name is Christopher Smith, and for a couple of years, I've been the one and only... Nitro the Hedgehog. I doubt you know the rest, so I'll sum it up; I fled from my old home into Mobius, helped in the war against Eggman, and even saved the multiverse from possible destruction at the hands of Toxinfect."

As part of the summary, Chris as his human self is shown fleeing into a portal, not daring to look back, then of him as Nitro using the Burst Wispon against Eggman's robots, and then finally him utilising the power of the Sacred Ring to fight Toxinfect.

"That said, with all the times I've been knocked down, I haven't always been able to keep on moving. In an older timeline I came from, I suffered from long-term depression that I hid from everyone. At least, until a mini "Smol" version of myself revealed it, by which point I got some much-needed therapy."

As he said that, a shot is shown of his "Smol" counterpart, Smol Nitro, discovering a hidden note under Chris's bed, showing he was secretly suicidal at the time.

"But of course, there have been positives. I saved a newer friend from the clutches of a corrupt corporate boss, met amazing friends across the multiverse, and even got girlfriends out of my Amy and Mina."

Shots are shown of him offering Wade (Evo's boyfriend in the present day) his hand, him alongside the Mario, Lilac, Mega Man and Frisk of his multiverse, and him sharing a first kiss with Amy and his reunion with his Mina.

"Just today, of course, something weird happened. A portal opened under my feet, and I had to go to the hospital for a bit after some creatures gnawed at my legs. We waited a little bit, and then we saw that portal open into OMT!Tails's house. Wanna see what comes next now? Same! But before we do..."

The focus then shifts over to the Next Dimension comic cover.

CU!Sonic: ...It's time for us to do this-

CU!Sonia: -one last time!

CU!Sonic: Heh, knew you'd get the drill, mini-blue!

Shots are shown of CU!Sonia and CU!Sonic respectively preparing for battle.

CU!Sonic: So anyway, I'm Sonic, and this is my little daughter, Sonia. For a while, I've been the hero of my world. Pretty sure you know the rest! I got together with Amy, we had Sonia, and I've continued saving the world countless times. We did get into some tough love at times, but we always sorted it out!

CU!Sonia: Ah, erm... You gonna mention what happened with... mom?

CU!Sonic: Oh, er... I'm... not really sure if I can muster up the courage myself...

CU!Sonia: Come to think of it, I don't really remember what happened, but... she's no longer with us. Ever since, dad's been raising me on his own.

A shot of the two paying their tributes over their Amy's grave is shown, with CU!Sonic looking somber about it.

CU!Sonic: Right. Sonia's really the only family I have left, so while looking after her (and a mix of her keeping me right, of course), I've also been helping keep my home safe from criminal organisations trying to take advantage of things.

A shot of Sonia pilfering CU!Sonic's chilli dog out of possible jealousy that he was planning on dating someone else is shown.

CU!Sonic: Hey! My chilli dog!

CU!Sonia: If you're planning to swap out your poor daughter with another woman, you aren't worthy of this chilli dog.

CU!Sonic (annoyed): Darn it, Sonia! You're just like your mom, always trying to control everything!

CU!Sonic: One day, however, something weird happened.

CU!Sonia: We saw a portal just open up in front of us during our walk, and we met other friends on the other side!

A shot of them discovering the opened portal from their perspective is shown.

CU!Sonic: Sure you wanna know what happens next as much as me, so let's cut it here.

#sonic exe #sonic the hedgehog #spider verse #sth #sonic #sonic fandom #sonic au #sth au #spider man #friday night funkin #undertale au #freedom planet

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